It’s hard to believe this was me one year ago. I’d had an amazing time with friends over lunch, and we had planned to meet again one year later (today) to celebrate being cancer free and enjoying the good life again. BUT I’m not celebrating, I’m laying in a hospital bed trying to accept that the surgeons removed my inner cheek, jawbone and skin on the right side because that side of the face had been completely overtaken by cancer. Instead of enjoying lunch with friends, I spent the day crying.
It’s hard to explain what this is like 10 days after surgery. I am happy that I have been able to persevere and hold hope that the future is filled with better days ahead, but I also am in an enormous amount of pain and although some things are going well, others are not. The scariest issue is that my “flap” (tissue, bone and artery used to replace the part of the face they removed) is not healing as it should. For the past week my moods have been up and down as the various Head and Neck Surgeons and their team of other medical professions poke, prod, and analyze the flap. It’s gone from “looks good” to “should be fine” to “we’ll keep monitoring and we will likely have to do some remedial work later”.
Waiting to find out if the final pathology will show clear margins, worrying about the flap and trying to rein down the fear of the cancer returning a third time is overwhelming. (The first cancer didn’t really “fit” my lifestyle but I thought, “well any kind of cancer can grow in any kind of person”, but it is illogical that I would have a recurrence within a year, and the extreme aggressiveness this time is bewildering.)
It is also difficult to adjust to the “more than expected” facial disfigurement. In the months to come the swelling will come down, and the flap should shrink and I am fortunate to have had access to an exceptional counsellor here to help me navigate this. It’s one thing to intellectually know that my friends and family won’t let this alter our relationships, but it is emotionally and psychologically very distressing in these early days.
Our healthcare system has a lot of issues and can be frustrating, but I am incredibly fortunate to have a team of three extraordinary surgeons (and dozens of others) who have the expertise and knowledge to deal with the extent of the cancer. As one said today, we were working to save your life and to ensure you can speak and eat. The extent and size of the “flap” is to ensure the newly constructed jawbone will do well. It takes a lot of time for things to “settle”, but have reassured me that small procedures or further surgery can address these issues in time. (They had to remove several molars on the top and bottom to ensure they wouldn’t leave even a speck of cancer cell behind.)
BUT:
- I am doing remarkably well in many other aspects of healing
- I know that my life and all its days are holy and blessed
- I am already becoming more anchored in my belief that although I may not be the same Karen I was before, this new amended version will find contentment and joy in the future
AND:
As I observe others going through their various surgeries, it is abundantly clear how blessed I am to be surrounded and cared for by my wonderful community of friends and family. (I think people want to hover near my hospital door to be encouraged themselves by the messages relayed to me through Amy, Brenda and Dad. I’ve always known I have great sisters, but I will never be able to adequately thank them for the days they have spent holding my hands as they watch me weep, hide my head, cry in pain and question what life will be like, in addition to keeping track of who is who in my care team, what needs to be checked, ask questions and ensure I get the care I need. And although dad (Ted) can’t be here in Edmonton, he is relentlessly praying for me, and daily reminds me that “weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning”). I think we all admit we’re not the perfect Rockwell family, but I am anchored by their love. I hope those who know them will reach out to encourage and support them as well.
I’ll be in the hospital a couple of more days as decisions are made, and arrangements are made for follow-up care in North Battleford and my return appointments in Edmonton, but I expect that I’ll be back home soon. (Unfortunately I can’t see myself being in a position to see many people, but please know that I am aware of all the messages and love you have been sending. I am eagerly looking forward to slowly reconnecting with you all in the healthier days ahead.)