When he awoke, he said he'd been up the river a distance, in the arms of a beautiful woman, a mother, a Madonna, in trees overlooking the peaceful water.
He said he'd been on a train, a train that took him from one place to another, miles apart, that people came to see him on motorcycles, that there was a lot of commotion around, mob scenes.
In his dream he was someone very important who had an important task to be done, someone who commanded great respect. It didn't matter that it wasn't logical. It was inside the dream.
People came and went. And sometimes, he floated. Long before he woke up he lost a kidney. He can tell you what the surgeon was wearing that day, what they said in the operating room. He knew long before he was told that the kidney was gone, though others took great pains not to mention it. He knew.
It was the long dream, and it's all he really remembers of a journey that began six years ago.
Six years ago, we got the diagnosis. Tumor on the head of the pancreas, presumed to be malignant.
Six years ago, we went for a second opinion rather than opt for surgery in our local community hospital, where only two Whipple surgeries are done a year, and the national mortality rate is 20%.
Six years ago, we were at Mayo getting that second opinion, repeat enhanced abdominal CT, needle aspiration biopsy. Presumptive Islet cell.
Six years ago, we thought we had only six months. If that.
Six years ago.
He went into the dream on August 3rd and didn't really come out until eight months later, when we left the long journey on March 15th. And began another one.
All he remembers now is the dream.
See also: The Great White Hunter - Open Salon
TIP:
Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Ted Frier
Cleverley
J. P. Major
ohsillyme
Lauren B. Davis
Rochelle Skaar
Salon.com
Comments
If you do not have faith you have nothing.
rated with hugs
An endless array of hope.
Love to you.
(((R)))
Writer to the Stars, We had those less than a day occasions, day two when he arrested in the hospital bleeding to death and was a full resuscitate, three weeks in when he popped an artery due to infection and spewed 9 units of blood like a geyser as fast as they would go in, all five bleeds, actually. At least seven times we thought we were saying goodbye.
Weird thing with us was, if we hadn't gone to Mayo, we'd have thought he had regular pancreatic carcinoma and planned on six months or less--but if he'd had that surgery locally, he'd likely have died.
As it was, islet cell gave us several years, if that's what it was.
When they went in to remove it in surgery on August 3rd, the tumor was gone. The pancreas fell apart on day two, and Larry was bleeding to death.
That's our story. No cancer. Post-surgical complications. Now missing pancreas, spleen, half stomach, half bowel, and kidney, four months 24 hour dialysis, ventilator 3 months. Couldn't walk at the end. Told we could only go to a nursing home.
Surgeon said it was the most complicated patient he's ever had and the biggest miracle he's ever seen.
But what if we'd never had the surgery at all? We'd be waiting on death.
Dr. Steve, so can Fentanyl, ventilators and coma, even medically induced post-surgical ones.
Thanks all of you for dropping as I reflected.