I don't make any promises, but I need a place to put all my feelings. To create a personal diary. A log of what's been happening so I don't overload the feeds of many of our friends. I hate that there have been so many downs than ups. So, where do I start? The beginning is as good as any.
On February 18th, our lives changed forever. My husband, Scott, had been having bad headaches and got pretty sick to his stomach over the weekend. On Monday the 17th, he went to the doctor's office and was given antibiotics and flonase for a sinus infection. However, on the 18th, things took a turn for the worst. He texted me from home saying his headache was still pretty bad and he was throwing up. The worrisome text came when he said he fell. He partially blacked out or got light headed while throwing up in the bathroom. He was too scared to drive and pick up the kids from school. That's when I offered to go get our son. He called his friend to pick up his children (Scott picked up our friend's kids four times a week and watched them in the evenings). I clock out and lock my computer, thinking, I'll be back. Just taking a lunch break to get our son. But when I got home, I was taken aback by how weak my husband had gotten, sitting on the bathroom floor, constantly throwing up what little bile was left in his stomach. Our daughter, age 5, had gotten into a bunch of Valentine's Day candy. She had free reign of the house. I had no choice but to call the nurse's line. I described his symptoms and she immediately recommended the ER. He would become severely dehydrated if he can't keep liquids down. That's when he fell over again. He was so weak, he couldn't get up. The nurse recommended that I call 911. Scott freaked out and forced himself up and onto our bed. I called our friend over and between the two of us, managed to get Scott to his truck. Our friend took him to the ER while I stayed home with the kids. Once my mother-in-law was home and the kids were fed dinner, I headed to hospital.
The had given him meds for pain nausea, but both were clearly not working. They had just finished a CT scan before I arrived. Now it was wait and see. I was thinking meningitis. I've had it before and my symptoms were identical. What I didn't expect to hear when the ER doctor came back was "a mass in his brain." It looked like a tumor in his frontal lobe. My heart sank. "It may be cancerous." My heart was just crushed. What? A tumor? What does this mean? The ER doctor had to consult with a neurologist. He'd let us know what he'd find out.
Tears already started to fall before the doctor walked out. I saw an initial look of shock on Scott's face, then a calm came over him. I was panicking inside and out. Seeing that Scott looked calm and tired, I told him I had calls to make. His mom. My dad. My boss. Some of my friends. Each time, I am crying and shaking. I don't know what to do.
An hour later, the ER doctor came back. He spoke with the neurologist and was told it looks like glioblastoma, brain cancer. An MRI will need to be done to confirm this. Surgery will likely happen within a few days. They would need to start Scott on a steroid to get the swelling down. The will also transfer him to Memorial Central, since that is where the surgeon is at.
I became overwhelmed at that moment. So much information to process. Cancer? Surgery?
Scott continued to look calm. He told me of a few folks he wanted me to call. Out in the hallway, I sobbed as I made all the hard calls. My brother. Scott's work. Our friends. My mother-in-law again. My dad again. A stranger passing by, saw me crying and offered a hug. I sobbed in that woman's arms. I didn't know her, but she knew exactly what I needed at that moment. I felt so alone in that hallway just moments before. Scott was in shock. I knew he was. So, he couldn't reciprocate my feelings. So, I cried in a stranger's arms. So, to that stranger, if you happen to ever chance upon this, thank you very much.
We waited for them to take Scott away in an ambulance. I had to drive home, pick up some pajamas and other things for Scott to have at the hospital. I said good-bye to him and after they wheeled him away, the ER doctor came to me and gave me hug. He told me to be strong and wished us luck.
Just a few steps out the front door of the ER and I could feel like I couldn't go any longer. No one was around to see me in my moment of weakness. I sobbed so hard, I wailed. The tears came and didn't stop. I could barely see in front of me. My arms held tight around my mid-section. I felt like I could wretch. My stomach churned. My head swam. Yet somehow, I put one foot in front of the other and made it to my car. I went home to cry even more with my mother-in-law. I gathered Scott's things and headed for the other hospital.
He was resting when I got there. They put him on stronger medication to ease the nausea and pain. I stayed with him for a bit. He changed into pajama bottoms and made himself comfortable. We talked for a bit, but he avoided talking about cancer. He was fairly certain he'd be back to himself in no time and ready to interview for the Sheriff's position (he had just passed the written test that weekend and was scheduled to interview on Friday). He was tired, so when he was ready to sleep, I headed home.
Panic set in once again. What am I going to tell the kids? How are they going to react? What am I going to do with daycare and everything else? What about work?
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