Freedom!

Free, free, I’m free at last! Thank God Almighty, I’m free at last!

I am speaking of my feed tube that was removed last Thursday. I can’t tell you how thankful I am to have that all behind me. I’ve been eating normally for about 3 weeks now, and doing quite well. I have lost some additional weight, but am working very hard at eating and staying healthy. Without normal functioning taste buds, it is sometimes difficult to decide what I’m hungry for, and when I do eat, I have to chew my food to smithereens before swallowing. It takes some effort to convince myself to eat tasteless food and lots of chewing time. Patience, patience, My child.

But…before I forget…I feel the need to share my tube removal experience with all of you. This is pure fact…no embellishing whatsoever. Okay, maybe a little for your amusement only. Hey, I’m a people pleaser and love a good smile on a great face.

It was Monday, January 6, 2014 when I called the doctor’s office. I’d had enough of this dangling feeding tube protruding from my upper mid-section. After all, we’d been together for 6 months. It had done its job well, but clearly, it was time to move on to the next phase. The appointment was set for the following Thursday morning.

I was excited, and I’m not going to lie, a wee bit anxious. When they inserted the tube I was put under for the surgery. I had no clue of what went on during the procedure. But with the removal, it would be different. No drugs, no numbing, no dimmed lights with music. I would be fully alert with only a nurse’s hand to hold. With a quick tug of the tube—out it pops! “It’s not painful and will just take a few seconds. If anyone can do this, you can.” So they assured me.

Thursday came and I was ready. When they called my name to come back, I asked the nurse, “Now, are you sure this isn’t going to hurt? I’m a little nervous.” Without answering my question, she quickly ushered me into the patient room and said, “The doctor will explain everything.” Okay, it was obvious she had skirted around my question and the nerves began to stir a little. Soon after, in came the doctor. They had me lay on the exam table as he began to explain procedure.

“I’m going to tug on your tube. It may be a little uncomfortable, but you will do fine. In very rare cases, the tube will not come out properly. If that were to happen, we will have to remove it surgically—much like the surgery you had when it was inserted. But that hasn’t happened in quite some time. Okay, you tell me when you’re ready.”

There was no backing out now. I felt the nurse gently take hold of my hand…yes, she really did. My heart skipped a beat, and suddenly I realized I hadn’t prayed about any of this. I silently and quickly condensed a 5 minute prayer into 5 words. Oh Lord, help me, please! Then I heard myself say, “Okay, I’m ready.”

No words could’ve prepared me for what happened next. After I gave the go ahead, the doctor took my tube in both hands and began this enormous tug of war—not once, not twice, but three times, practically lifting my helpless body in the air, while stretching my stomach upwards like a volcano. If I had closed my eyes, I would sworn the doctor had placed one foot on the exam table while tugging with all his might. Thankfully, in less than five seconds, there was a snap—no crackle—and a loud pop, and it was all over.

After the stars faded from my eyes, I looked down expecting to see both of my kidneys and my right foot lying by my side. But fortunately, all that was left was a dangling tube in the doctor’s proud hands. Through it all I didn’t say a word, but the nurse said my eyes widened…unnaturally. No kidding.

Now with all due respect, the doctor was right. It was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. I got through the procedure just fine and was very grateful to have it over. I thought for sure they’d stitch me up a little. After all, I’d had a hole in my stomach for six months. But the doctor assured me it wasn’t necessary and I would heal completely in a couple of days. So all I had to brag about was an attractive pile of gauze taped to my mid-section disguised as an extra belly button.

As they sat me up on the exam table, the nurse said, “Are you okay? Do you want to sit awhile before you leave?” I remember mumbling, “I think I’m okay, thanks.” as I pushed myself off the table and mindlessly meandered down the hallway. A part of me couldn’t believe what had just happened in an appointment that took less than five minutes, tops. And the other part felt freedom and hoped I’d never have to go through that again. When I took the bandage off the next day, I was amazed that the hole was already beginning to close on its own. Good thing…I’d just eaten oatmeal for breakfast. Okay, sorry for that visual.

So, that’s my “Freedom” story. One more phase of this journey complete.

Several people have asked me, “Now that you’re finished with treatments, what’s next?” Well, since this is a reoccurrence, I have follow up doctor appointments scheduled with my ENT beginning next week. He will continue to monitor me closely each month for…well, for whenever he gives me the boot. And a PET scan is scheduled in March to determine if the cancer has spread. If it has, (appreciate your prayers that it hasn’t) there will be more chemotherapy scheduled.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that at the very beginning of my journey God said, “Trust Me.” So I am. Whether I’m in a treatment chair receiving drugs, having a tube unnaturally jerked from my stomach, or even when the sun is shining and the birds are singing; basically, every moment of every day, I am to trust Him. Tis so sweet, really. Join me, won’t you?