I haven’t cried that much in the last week, I’ve wanted too. Oh yeah I’ve wanted to just let all the emotion out, but it hurts right now. Like physically. Why you ask? Because two days after my CT scan last week I woke up to this throbbing pain in my neck. The tumor under my jaw, not the golf ball to grape tumor, but the other one, was about twice as big as it had been the previous day. It blew up like a balloon. Swollen and firm, painful, and large this tumor decided to make it’s appearance. I mean this sucker even robbed me of my sleep! Every time I’d roll over on my right side I’d wake up.
Fast forward to this Tuesday in Seattle. I had a follow-up with Dr. Nghiem and I showed him my new balloon tumor. He always almost laughs when I come in because there’s always something new, something he’s never seen, something he doesn’t understand, he’s always baffled. I’ll spare you the medical details and the ins and outs of that appointment and skip to the important part, I have to get surgery.
Surgery, again. As I write this I get this chest flutter, like that feeling you get right before you cry. Kind of a flutter in your stomach and chest and then that tingling in your eyes and nose. But then you try to keep the floodgates shut so you almost get a stomach ache, you know that feeling? If it didn’t hurt I’d be bawling all over my keyboard as I tell you that I have to have surgery. When they told me that it didn’t really hit home. I mean I figured it would be in a few weeks, until yesterday I got a call which confirmed my surgery for next friday.
Next friday, a week, I have a week to prepare to get cut open again. Awe man, here they come, the tears, I can’t help it. Ow.
I’m not afraid of the pain to come, I’m afraid of what I’m going to lose this time. The other half of my smile? My spit? My neck mobility? My taste? What scars will there be? How will I look different? There are so many what ifs in surgery. And it never goes exactly as planned. Like the first surgery being 11 hours not 4, or the second surgery resulting in dead tissue and a gaping hole in my face, what will it be this time?
I’m afraid, I’m frustrated, I’m tired, I need your prayers.
February 24th I will have surgery in Seattle. February 24th I will wake up in a hazy anesthesia fog again and gaze into the mirror seeing someone I don’t recognize.