It is another new day. I would like to continue where I left off yesterday.
     Those first days of cancer, were definitely scary ones.  I was thinking of my time left here on earth.  What would happen to my family?  What would happen to Dan?  I wasn't sure of anything, and most of all, if I could fight this fight that was ahead of me.  I had been through so much already.  
     In 1997, I experienced a centrally herniated disc.  L4-L5, the disc level, which at the time I knew nothing about.  All I did know that, having been a very active mother of 3 small children, I was experiencing pain like none I had before.  My right leg was numb and painful at the same time.  I couldn't stand, I couldn't sit, even sleeping became elusive.  When I had exhausted the PT my doctor had recommended, before being diagnosed, and not knowing about the disc herniation, he had told me that many, many people have herniated disc and that physical therapy usually helps.  Only a very small percentage ever need surgery.  "A very small percentage".  A phrase I would come to know very well.
     A centrally herniated disc, in my case, meant that the disc was bulging against my spinal cord.  I would need surgery or eventually I might lose the use of my legs.  It was a terrifying statement.  I would need surgery.  Major surgery.
     While waiting for that date to approach, my gallbladder decided to stop working.  I lost 20 lbs in a very short span of time, and had my first ever surgery.  It was an overnight stay at our local hospital, Brooks Memorial.  I remember being in quite a it of pain and being sent home with a heavy dose of pain medication.  It was late afternoon when I arrived home.  My mom had made a nice meatloaf dinner.  I was nicely snuggled on the sofa with a tray of food, and had taken the first pill I had ever had for pain.  I remember falling asleep with the fork in my hand.  It seemed powerful stuff then.  Such would not be the case as my life went on.
      As I prepared for this major back surgery, I fretted over my children.  My 3 year old Daniel was just a baby.  Jenna and Ben were enrolled at Northern Chautauqua Catholic School.  What a blessing that turned out to be, as our school family came to our aid, with offers of babysitting, meals, errand running, and the much needed moral support.  It would be a long recovery.  At least 3 to 6 months in a brace which meant no driving or lifting.  I was afraid.  I would no longer be able to lift my 3 year old child.  And the car pooling would end.  6 months seemed like an awfully long time.  It would later prove to be much longer than 6 months.
     The method the doctor decided to use was to use an incision below my belly, a general surgeon would perform this part, removing my internal organs, like a bag of groceries, he said.  Then the neurosurgeon would remove the damaged disc and insert 2 titanium cages in the space with cadaver bone.  The bone was suppose to fuse the two vertebra together.  Suppose to.
     As they wheeled me into surgery, I told my husband I loved him, and I had a terrifying moment when I thought I might not wake up.  "Hug the children for me", I cried and if I didn't make it, or something went wrong....Dan looked at me and said, Where is this coming from all of a sudden?"  Evidently, I had never relayed my fears to him, or he had not heard my fear.  To say I was terrified was an understatement.  I had never experienced anything like this before and I wanted to crawl off the bed, or scream, or.... I just cannot explain it.  If only that feeling were the worst I would ever experience.  It wouldn't, of course.  It paled in comparison to the day I was told I had cancer.  The one thing that finally calmed me down, was in the pre-op area.  I was at St. Joesph's Hospital.  When I looked up from my bed, there was a crucifix on the wall.  It immediately calmed me, as did the medicine the anaesthesiologist injected into my IV.
     The surgery, over and done with, I was up the next morning with a nurse trying to get me to walk.  I don't think I have ever had that kind of pain since that first surgery.  I could only take a few steps.  
     It did get better.  After 5 days at the hospital I was sent home in the offending plastic brace.  I do not remember a lot about those first days after surgery.  I think I have blocked it out.  The things I do remember about it was the wonderful help I received from many friends and family.  I know I had to go through PT again sometime after the surgery.  But I didn't see any improvement in my leg and back pain.

There is so much more for me to write about. Tears, frustration, depression.  Writing about this first surgery, when I think back on it, seems a lifetime ago.  So much changed after that first surgery.  My life as a mother was forever changed.  There would be no going back to a normal, active life.  It was the beginning of a nightmare of failed surgeries, a fight with pain leading to many medications, a serious and ongoing depression that would stop me cold.  All these things now, compared to the diagnosis of cancer, seemed to perhaps be a preparation for it.  I have always said that God had a plan for us, we just don't know what it is, or why we must suffer.  I believed that God had given me this cross to bear and I would carry it.  That is not to say there were times when I questioned God.  Oh for insight to see just a bit into that mind of God to see what is store for us.
Enough for today.  This is a very long story and if you choose to follow it, please bear with me as I may wander a bit now and then, as the journey between the physical ailments that are not life threatening and the cancer diagnosis are vast.  
I pray you peace.