Author’s note: This is a recollection of my events from a year ago. There is no need to panic.
It is my third day in the hospital (fourth, if you count the Saturday night that I was admitted). I get around to telling my ex-girlfriend what has been happening to me. Many friends wonder why I still speak to her. In American we are supposed to vilify our ex’es. I am different in that I still care very deeply about her and none of that has ever faded. I tell her everything that has happened and she is concerned. I promise that I will keep her updated.
It is early in the evening when the doctor comes to my room. Despite the light still outside my room faces the south casting a gloom over everything. Kelly is there with me. The doctor asks if it is okay to speak with Kelly present and I let him know that it is. He explains that I have stage 2 endocrine pancreatic cancer with metastasis in the liver. I know nothing about cancer so I accept the diagnosis as is. Several months from now I will do my own research and realize that any sort of metastasis is usually indicative of stage 4. The doctor further explains that the type of cancer I have is rare. It’s the one that Steve Job’s had for several years. Jobs had tried holistic remedies as part of treatment as well as a liver transplant. That’s what that Apple money will get you. The more common form of pancreatic cancer is exocrine, which is what Patrick Swayze had. It burned through him in a matter of months. They will prescribe blood thinners to me which I will administer as shots into my belly. The blood thinners will help break the clot in the pancreas. On Friday a surgical consult has been scheduled. They want to see if they could cut the cancer out of the liver.
As soon as the doctor leaves Kelly starts to cry.
I smile and say, “It will be okay. I promise.” My first thought is to always reassure her. I don’t want anyone to worry and this is an initial diagnosis. There is always hope.
My birthday is tomorrow and I hope that I am discharged. The thought of spending my birthday in a hospital room is depressing. There is not much more they can do for me here. I am anxious to use my own shower and sleep in my own bed.