Surgery Day

Today I'm thankful for...

Lulu's medical team

Having the choice to get Lulu's treatment done where we choose

Doris (Lulu's sister) to be here to help in this difficult time

Lori (my sister) for sitting with Lourdes

Today was a huge day for Lulu in her fight again this terrible disease. We were to arrive at 6 AM at the UCSF (Mt Zions) hospital for pre-op check-in, so we got a very early start. As Lulu, Doris, and I drove the 20 or so blocks to the hospital, I couldn't help but think about how strong Lulu was facing this daily climb of fighting breast cancer. She was only concentrating on the getting better outcomes and what she was going to do in the next weeks to recover from the surgery. I haven't heard any negativity about why she was the one to spawn this cancer, and she seems to believe that all this was meant to help her be a better person, and show her a new life. We arrived to a very desolate hospital at 5:45 AM. I think that the only staff were the security guards from the night shift? We had been shown the routine the previous day, so the checking-in for the surgery was quite smooth.

We were in for a treat this early morning. The pre-op nurse was a happy sole, and she made the whole hour long experience for all of us entertaining (little did we know that she would make the rest of the hospital team that we came into contact with flat and uninterested impaired to her). This nurse we had found out was originally from New York City (The Bronx) but that she had a Chicago accent. It turns out that when she was a young girl she had some difficulty with speaking and needed a tutor to help her in the classroom, and her parents could only afford to have the neighbor lady help her learn to speak better. As she continues her story, as she busily prepping Lulu for the upcoming surgery, she now understands that the neighbor lady was a Chicagoan and had the thick Italian Chicago access to go along with her thick Italian figure. So, this animated nurse was proficient in her job, and at the same time enjoying the interaction with the people that she was caring for. However, I don't think that she realized that she wasn't only taking care of a beautiful cancer patient, but she was making her family feel just a little better the impending surgery. I was left to wonder why we can't all find our happy point, and just like her brighten the days of everyone that we come into contact with?

Next the breast surgeon and the plastic surgeon arrived to answer any questions that we all might have before to disappear to finalize the details of the next 7 or 8 hours. I wanted to ask, "are you really sure that she has breast cancer before you start," but I thought better of it (this was Lulu's time to get her questions answered, not a time for lame comments from the husband). I think one of the hardest parts of all this for me is not being able to handle my stress with quick humor as I normally would. I have found that I respond better to life be cracking one liners, or just trying to make people laugh any way that I can. Though all of these last 5 months I have been cautious with my humor and in the process have lost some of my spontaneity. After biting on my tongue, to keep those comments from flying out, we watched as the surgeon left and the surgical team entered.

I think that Lulu got a little nervous when she found herself being questions and watched by 10 various medical personnel? Being a teaching institution there were resident and attending surgeons, resident and attending anesthesiologists, head OR nurse, and then many other support staff for Lulu. All of them have a specific duty to preform and some were getting educated along the way? I could see some of the repeated questions were wearing on Lulu's nerves, and I think that she was just ready to, "Let's, Get It On, " as the famous attorney Mills Lane used to say. At last they were ready to wheel the gurney back to the operating room and make the cancer disappear. I was very hopeful that the whole surgery was go as planned and the next time I see my best friend, she would be cancer free and past one more of the huge hurtles in her recovery? We kissed and hugged on last time, and then she passed through the automatic doors of the operation room. I felt a rush of emotion fall upon me, and I had to turn from Doris to wipe away the streaming tears that caressed by cheeks. I couldn't help but be angered by the thoughts of, Why Lulu. What has she ever done to deserve this fate? The next 9 hours were to be agonizingly long!

Doris stayed in the family surgery lounge, while I walked back to the flat that we were staying in for the week. I needed to walk off the stress of the unknown. I didn't really enjoy the walk as I'm sure that on any other day I would. How can't you absorb the wonders of a scenic view of the Golden Gate bridge, and all the beautiful Victorian houses that fill the Pacific Heights neighborhood that I passed through. All I could think about is how Lulu was enduring getting her body cut up as the surgeons try to save her life. I really didn't care if the passersby saw my tears or not. I just concentrated on not tripping over my feet as I absently made my way the two miles back. When I finally arrived I saw that Lourdes was giving my sister Lori a hand full, and I helped her with a feeding and a diaper change, before I was to return to the hospital. I surgeon had informed us that she expected to be done by 12 noon, so I wanted to get back a little early so not to miss the doctor's news about her success with Lulu's surgery? I got back to UCSF at 11 o'clock (plenty of time earlier then the doctor said that she might be done, just in case). Doris was catnapping when I walked into the surgery family waiting area, so I quietly slipped into the waiting room chair next to her, and began reading form my iPhone.

We patiently waited for some information on the outcome of Lulu's surgery. 12 noon came and when with no sign of the surgeon. Doris and I talked about Lulu and how stubborn and strong that she is. We re-hashed how far she had come from the first diagnosis and what she still needed to do to recover. We discussed, but couldn't discover, why someone like Lulu gets cancer and others like ourselves don't? How might all this effect the kids, and what I should be doing to help them through this? We were praying that the all the cancer would be done post surgery and Lulu would have a quick, uneventful recovery. Mostly we just reminisced how get a sister Lulu was and how I couldn't ask for a better wife and mother for the children. Before we knew it the time had slipped past 1 PM and still we had heard anything yet. With every passing minute we got increasingly more worried, and each time someone would enter the waiting area's door we both would leap out of our chairs thinking that this was the news we had been waiting for? Finally, around 1:20 PM we got word that the surgeon was finishing up Lulu's surgery and would be in to talk to us in about 15 minutes. 45 minutes later the lady doctor walked in, and my heart leaped out of my chest. I wasn't sure that I could get to my feet and follow her out into the hall for a report? Somehow I got my balance and made it out the door and into the hall where the surgeon was waiting to deliver the news. All I could think was with all this waiting, we better get a complete report on Lulu's status and her diagnosis? I felt mind was detached from my body, and I couldn't tell my legs to function properly. It seemed to take me a hour to get out the receive the surgeon's report, but I eventually took a position next to Doris and a crossed from the doctor.

The surgeon seemed calm and positive as she began to speak about her last 7 hours of work. Was this a look of success, or that well practiced doctor's ability to deliver the gloomy news expressively? She began (as they always do with the positive news first) with how great Lulu had done with not losing as much blood as they anticipated, and that her heart really handled the 7 hour surgery well. Both breasts were removed without much difficultly, and that not much muscle was damaged during the process. Also, they biopsies the left breast tissue, and found no cancer contained within the tissues. Wow, I was really gaining my strength with this news, but then came the less positive news of the surgery. The surgeon spoke of finding cancer in a number of lymph nodes in the right axilla and that they had to remove at least 20 presumably cancerous nodes there. She informed us that they will be doing a complete biopsy on these nodes in the following weeks and that once that's finished, she could give us a better idea of what's next for Lulu? For sure she will need a aggressive radiation therapy treatment and possibly more chemotherapy or surgery at some point in the future. I was just happy to hear that she made it through the surgery and I was to be able to see you soon. All the other information could wait. I wanted to concentrate on one positive thing at a time.

We wanted for another 2.5 hours for the surgery to wrap up and Lulu to pass though the recovery portion of the hospital. We weren't allowed to be with her in the recovery phase, so Doris and I both got a bite to eat (since it had been since breakfast at around 8 AM the last time we had eaten) and caught small catnaps while waiting for Lulu to wake enough to be sent to a room for her 3 day recovery. Finally, at 5:30 PM Doris and I were summonsed by a nurse that we could escort Lulu to hear room on the 4th floor. When I set my eyes on her I immediately felt the tension fall away from my body and I was so happy that she looked alive with relief (but she was very pale, almost ghostly in her appearance). Lulu was quite drugged up and sleeping for the rest of the evening, so I left to return to Lourdes and give my sister a break after the 10 hours day she endured with little Lourdes. I was looking forward to the first really good night of rest that I would have for the last week!