Goodbye My Friend

Tonight is my last night with my bag. It’s strange - I feel almost sad.

I can’t believe that it has been 8 whole months since they put it on me. When I woke up from surgery on July 28, I’ll never forget how distressed that I was that it was there. I begged them to take it off quickly. Although they could have done so after 2 months, I was talked into waiting so that we could get a lot of chemo into my body. (You have to take a 3 month break around surgery to avoid some pretty scary complications.)

As I prepare for tomorrow’s surgery, I keep reflecting on the past 8 months. I thought that the bag would slow me down, but it didn’t. I have had adventures, worked full time, actively promoted cold cap therapy to help other cancer patients save their hair during chemo and have enjoyed my children thoroughly.

So here we are. The night before I say goodbye to my bag. Having this attached to my body has been a constant reminder of the battle that I am waging. It protected my colon for the last 8 months, allowing it to heal and grow stronger. It has been good to me, but now I am ready for it to go.

Tomorrow, at the crack of dawn, Pat and I will head down to Stanford for my 7th stomach surgery in 7 years, the 5th one that has been associated with cancer. I plan to have this be my last surgery (except for my facelift when I hit 70).

At 9:30 am PST, I will be under the knife once more. The surgery is scheduled to last until 11. Please send up a little prayer or positive thought that the surgeon won’t find any cancer and that the bag will be gone…forever.