Chapter Eleven: One Foot in Front of the Other

Thursday, January 22



Sometimes it's discouraging to keep going, when nothing seems to happen and the news isn't what you'd hoped for. Dad couldn't get his colon going on a regular basis. Worse, he'd insisted on the pathology report being delivered to him personally, and the surgical intern, David, brought it to his room Thursday night, after Mom, Gary, and I had left. He called Gary to get his take on the report.



It was good, and it was bad. There were 28 lymph nodes tested from Dad's surgery. One had a tumor. With any cancer, lymph involvement isn't good. But it was only one out of 28 and located near the originally-discovered tumor. Both had been removed. There was no perineural invasion, also a good sign. The grade of the cancer was moderate, rather than aggressive, meaning a slower-growing cancer.

Dad and I took our customary tour of the floor, right after Dad swallowed his pain meds. With perfect timing, after about 20 minutes of walking, Dad followed the delivery of his lunch tray into 1009.

Lunch was a production, because Dad's blended vegetable soup was, as he put it, "blended spices with too much pepper and tumeric." He discussed this at length with Leith, Dr. Galloway's P.A. They talked about consulting with a dietician (not necessarily about the soup!) and a medical oncologist.

After Dad's "mediocre" lunch, he wanted a bath. Laura the nurse would switch his IV from right arm to left but leave it out until his bath was finished. He was glad to take his first shower since before surgery. The orderly then showed up to take Dad for an x-ray.

While Dad was out of the room, Mom told me she had read the path report and talked to Gary. He felt the one lymph node was significant. It upset him, because he had talked with an oncologist friend who works all over Atlanta, and she did not give him encouragement about survival with pancreatic cancer.

I know statistically things don't look great. But individual lives and God's plans often foil statistics. I'm praying for people to work for Dad during recovery and chemotherapy, so he can keep doing what he loves, stay positive, and feel like he's making a contribution.