THE JOURNEY BEGINS

THE DIAGNOSIS

Ernie has been fortunate.  Other than suffering a broken leg at age eight and having his wisdom teeth removed as a teenager, his health has been good.  Our initial trip to the emergency room occurred because he had developed tightness in his chest and he thought he might be having a heart attack.  After an initial cat scan, an enormous cyst was discovered on his liver and because it was so large, he was referred to the medical center in downtown Houston.  The date was set for the surgery to remove the cyst.

The day before the surgery we drove downtown, "Eye of the Tiger" (theme song from "Rocky") blasting on the radio.  But what began as surgery to remove a large cyst quickly became much more.   The liver cancer was discovered after the cyst was removed.  The cat scan could not see through the cyst, so the cancer had not been identified.  Shock doesn't even begin to cover the range of emotions that swept over me and our daughter.  After the nurse came out during the surgery and told us what had been discovered, I felt as if I was in a kind of out of body experience, only partially hearing and understanding.

Whatever words are used to break the news, it's a life changing event.  I look back today and realize that at that particular moment our life forever changed.  I remember the fear, frustration, confusion and the questions.  What would happen now?  How would Ernie cope with the news?  What could I do?  How would Laurie cope with the news?  Wrapped up so tightly in layers of fear that just keep building, I could barely breathe or move.

I bounced between the past and the distant future for quite a while after the diagnosis, asking those questions that have no answers until exhaustion took over from all the mental gyrations.  Foreign to my thinking were any ideas of pausing, breathing, living in the day, focusing on positive thoughts - things I have learned to do that give meaning to life today.  Hindsight is a great tool and today I understand how I was focused and stuck in the drama of the situation and see clearly how detrimental it was for me and for Ernie.  But that's another thing I have learned.  If my reason for looking back is to learn, then I can give myself permission to do that occasionally.  But if my purpose for looking back is to punish myself  or feel guilty, then I don't go there, realizing I did the best I could at the time with the tools I had then.

Ernie began his journey that day, and I joined him.