St. Luke's Diagnosis! - April 8, 2010

Diagnosis Day is comparable to Sentence Day. I've been waiting since last Friday, and the more my pain increased and my sleep patterns were skewed, the more anxious I was to know what the tumor was all about. It's hard to know the latter is inside of me and that its toxic cells are working, so days seemed like weeks when my desire is to remove it and be done with it!

My brother and I were up very early. My nurse usually comes in the room at 6am and is required to draw blood. I found it funny that all I had to say was "No thank you, Im not giving blood this morning" because the nurses on the floor heard about what had happened to me the first night, when they tried to put the IV in my hand. I had some sort of power when it came to this. I declined blood-drawing 3 mornings in a row :)

I could be wrong about this, but it appears as though the hospitals in the US require 6-24 tubes of blood in one sitting so that the blood could be sold to other patients needing that type of blood through transfusion for example; obviously the blood would have to be disease-free and of good quality. They once took 24 tubes from my mom in one sitting....ridiculous. When compared to Lebanon, one tube is usually enough to study ALL the aspects of the blood. Here in the US, they need one tube for HIV, one for Hemoglobine, one for Hepatitis etc.....Why can't they check the same blood for different things? Good blood is surely recycled and used.

Anyways, this is really hors-sujet (out of the scope of this blog). lol

More St. Luke's employees kept storming through our room...Trust me, this is so annoying. But as the time neared 10am, we were more and more impatient to talk to the Oncologist team. My parents and sister arrived around 9am, and that gave us some time to ponder as a family before the verdict was announced.

The Oncologist team came by at 11:00am. They were on time the past few days, and therefore coming an hour late on Diagnosis Day was not a good sign, but we didn't want to over-analyze every little detail, so we let it go.

I was in my bed, my parents were on the couch, and my brother and sister were on individual chairs. I glanced at my family and they were all ears. The moment was here...I was looking at my mom hoping she can do something to prevent the Oncologist team from speaking negative news...I then quickly shared a look with the second Oncologist doctor, and he immediately gave me a sympathetic face but looked away...He wasn't interested in connecting or feeling with me. Believe it or not, before the main Oncologist had spoken her words, I knew what the verdict was. Besides, it took them over 72 hours to come up with a diagnosis. Benign tumors wouldn't be so complex and could be figured out in about 24 hours...

As forecasted, the main Oncologist confirmed I had a malignant tumor. To mark her words verbatim, she said "Daniel, you have a rare, aggressive and complicated Cancer." Even though St. Luke's was to spend additional time studying the biopsy, they were still unsure of the type of Cancer. They were able to also confirm it was a Sarcoma breed Cancer. She wanted to write us a referral to MD Anderson because St. Luke's was not equipped to treat me. There are many Sarcoma's out there, but my case was among the rare ones and they were not ready to assume such a responsibility when they are not even able to come up with Final Diagnosis...

The terrible part about all this is that the doctor didn't show any emotions and didn't even apologize about sharing such drastic news. As if trained to brutally convey death sentences. It was harsh. She was harsh. She made it all the worse, while also communicating to us that she was in a rush to go see other patients. I don't think I can ever forget her face...
Maybe she's used to transmitting negative news on a daily basis and has become callous? Who knows and who cares, but people can choose to be loving and kind everyday. People are where their decisions have lead them, and their personalities are a reflection of who they want to be and who they're comfortable being. That says a lot. I don't think it would cost my Oncologist anything to feel for me and console me during these initial minutes. Heck, I didn't even know what a Sarcoma was until after. We had initially thought I had a Lymphoma Cancer. Regardless her situation or her 'abusive childhood' or whatever other excuse she might give, it does not entitle her to be so dry and heartless with others.

Facts are facts and today's fact of the day was that I have a serious illness that I will have to fight. My momentum had been building over the week, and I was ready to face the giant with God's help and His peace in my life.

My family and I spent dark minutes together shortly thereafter. It was tough for each one of us. My father, resemblance of strength and head of the family also collapsed. I wasn't used to this but was used to solidarity and love among our family members. We weren't a family blessed with 10 children, so each person's role is always so vital. Couple the love we have for each other with God's grace and God's love for us, we were to be as ready as we could be. Bring it on!

My admitting doctor was also my discharging doctor who told us we were free to go home. He also got us the paperwork to transfer us to MD Anderson, signed and authorized by the St. Luke's Oncology and Pathology teams. That was good news, as MD Anderson is #1 in the world for treating Sarcomas.

Now comes the 2nd most awaited moment: the removal of the IV from my hand. It was buried under heavy duty tape which will come off along with all the hairs in that area. My under-arm was so sensitive to any hand or skin movement. I was dreading removing it although I hated every second it was on my hand. I literally had to keep my arm in one position for 4 days. When I lifted my arm, a monkey could notice that it was wrongly installed.
I called for the nurse and asked her to bring me small scissors. I wanted to cut the tape around the wires and remove the tape, piece by piece before taking out the IV. It was so painful to even touch the tape. You might think this is a useless paragraph Im writing, but the IV's removal was so intense that it cannot escape my mind, and I would like it to be part of my 'memories' repertoire.

After 30 minutes, I finally removed it and my under-arm was so very RED!! You could see the needle hole in my arm a couple feet away. The area around it was also affected. None of us had ever seen such an IV, including the nurse who freaked out when she saw my arm. It was ridiculous.

Later on that afternoon, we get some visitors who stay with us till the hospital discharges me.

At one point the nurse walks into my room and sees 3 persons on my bed and is overwhelmed by the number of people in my room...It was a full house. She walks into the room dazed and confused....A few seconds later, I raise my arm and tell her "I am the patient"...She walks towards me and we all share a laugh, including the nurse. I told her I was blessed with people who love me and care for me.

I wasn't going to miss the hospital, but I knew I'd miss the morphine they were injecting in my arm, not cause Im a drug addict, but because I knew I would have tough pain days and sleepless nights ahead of me...However, MDA was around the corner.

Sleeping time: 4 hours.