Please read the installments in the correct order to best understand the story. See here.
In February I had another ultrasound. The baby continued to grow perfectly. Towards the end of the ultrasound the tech kept looking at two other spots outside of my uterus. She asked me if the other ulstrasound had shown cysts on the other ovary. I said no and she continued to look at the monitor very intently. She left the room and came back with the perinatologist who looked at two spots outside of the uterus in addition to the 10 cm cyst. My fear started to grow knowing that any unknown growths outside the uterus could mean metastatic cancer. Tears seeped out the corners of my eyes as the perinatologist tried to get a good look at the spots and determine if they were growths or bowel. He told me he couldn’t tell for sure and suggested an MRI for better visualization. The fear grew inside me as I considered the implications. The doctor apologized for scaring me and explained that he was trying to understand what he was seeing. He suggested I call somebody to drive me home since he could see I was becoming emotional. I considered calling Jeremy but dismissed the thought as I knew he was sleeping after having worked the night shift. I pulled myself together as I left the office.
I cried the whole way home thinking about what it would mean if I had metastatic cancer. I woke Jeremy and told him what they saw in the ultrasound and that I might have cancer. He shrugged it off. He said there is no way it can be cancer with the way we’ve been eating and living our lives. It is impossible. I still couldn’t get rid of the feeling that it could be cancer. With the pains I had been having I had a growing sense of uneasiness that something just wasn’t right about this pregnancy.
My OB called me the next day concerned about the results of the ultrasound. He ordered an MRI of the abdomen and pelvis and referred me to a gynecological oncologist for further evaluation of the masses. He seemed to shrug it off too trying to ease my concerns by telling me that it was probably bowel and we needed better visualization from the MRI.
I had the MRI the next day. It wasn’t my favorite experience ever. I was already uncomfortable at 30 weeks pregnant with a persistent dull ache in my abdomen. I had to lie flat on the table and was eased into a tube where I had to lie still for 30 minutes for the pelvic scan. I almost started to panic after being in a tight space for so long. I was able to get up and walk around to lessen the pain and shake out the muscles before lying back on the table to be sent deeper into the claustrophobic tube to lay there for another 30 minutes. In order to hold the panic at bay I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was anywhere but in a small tube with loud banging noises around me. It was such a relief when it was over.
I had to wait 4 more days until my visit with Dr. Wingo, my oncologist, to find out the results of the MRI. I liked her instantly with her kind smile and as she listened to my list of questions without demeaning me or trying to shrug off the concern that I was feeling. I visited with her for about an hour talking about the results of the MRI and the implications of the findings as well as possible treatment options. The results were actually very optimistic. It showed that the ovarian cyst was only about 5 cm and the rest of the size that was attributed to it in the ultrasound was actually bowel. The MRI didn’t show any other masses that were suspected by the recent ultrasound. I was so relieved to hear this. We decided to do another ultrasound at 34 weeks and then see if it had grown and possibly do a c-section and cystectomy then or see if we could wait longer and let the baby mature further. I wanted to let the baby grow as much as possible to reduce the chances of having a NICU baby. The last thing I wanted was a fragile baby hooked up to monitors in an incubator while I was recovering from major surgery. I knew I couldn’t deal with two big whammies at once. We also discussed the possibility of it being ovarian cancer which is a very aggressive cancer in which case it would need to be operated on and removed sooner rather than later. I wanted to be prepared for all scenarios and to be realistic about the outcomes. One thing I love about Dr. Wingo is that she was very frank with me and didn’t try to water down the scary truth of what could happen. She also wasn’t afraid to tell me when she didn’t know the answer. It gave me a deep level of trust in her. But based on all the information we had and all the possible scenarios, I wanted to hold out as long as I could before having the baby. This pregnancy became a waiting game of growth of the baby vs growth of the mass.
My ultrasound at 35 weeks showed the same 10 cm mass that had been seen on the 2 previous ultrasounds with no other masses noted. The perinatologist recommended going all the way to 39 weeks since the mass wasn’t growing. It was very good news. At my next visit with Dr. Wingo we scheduled my surgery. Everything was looking good. I would have a baby and the painful Chucky removed within a couple of hours and then I could go back to normal life.
About 2 weeks later I was having a typical day. I picked up the kids from school and was working on getting dinner ready so Jeremy would have something to eat before going to a HOA meeting that night. I had been feeling pretty worn down by that point and decided to make something a little bit easier. But I am a bit of a neat freak and can’t start cooking until the kitchen is clean. So I unloaded the dishwashers and then started loading up all of the dirty dishes that littered the sink and counters. And then I could start making the fettuccine alfredo. By the time dinner was made I just was pooped. After eating my right side started to hurt like it had done a few times before. I had to just lay down on the couch and not move so as to not make the pain worse. Jeremy cleaned up a little and promised me as he was running out the door that he would be home soon and ordered me to not try to do anything. He called a neighbor to come over and put the kids to bed for me because moving was impossible. I knew from previous painful episodes that it would go away in a few hours. I just had to mentally wait for it to pass.
The pain would come in waves and it was getting so bad that I started to feel nauseated. I made Matthew grab me an old ice cream bucket kept for such occasions. Luckily, my kids were very helpful during this time and could pretty much put themselves and the almost two-year old to bed without my help. My friend came and got the kids to bed and then stayed with me until Jeremy came home. I pride myself on having an iron stomach and had only thrown up once in all my 5 pregnancies. But the pain was so great that I couldn’t hold it back any longer. And once I started vomiting, I couldn’t stop. I tried moving in different positions. I tried taking a warm bath. Jeremy even asked another friend over to help give me a priesthood blessing. I tried going to bed in the hopes that it would slowly go away like it had in the past. I kept throwing up all night and was so dehydrated, exhausted, and in so much pain that by 4 am I woke Jeremy and made him take me to the ER. That was the longest drive of my life–even longer than the drive to the hospital when I was in labor with Masen. And it seemed to take forever to go through admissions before I could be taken into the labor and delivery triage. There was no comfortable position. Sitting seemed to put pressure on the painful spot. Standing made me ache all over. I couldn’t focus on anything but trying to get rid of that pain. Once in a bed I was writhing from side to side trying to find relief. It was awful. Fortunately, my OB was on call at the hospital that night and came to see me right away. He ordered an ultrasound and pain medications in that order. It took all I had to hold still during the procedure. The ultrasound tech asked me if I could hold still so she could get a good picture. While logically I understood why she said that, I really just wanted to punch her in the face. The OB looked at the ultrasound and said that the cyst hadn’t grown or moved and suspected that maybe it had twisted which would explain the pain. I was admitted to the hospital overnight for pain control.
The oddest part about the hospital admission was that I didn’t worry about my kids hardly at all. I remember that as soon as the pain medication started working, I fell asleep. I was exhausted from the tension and stress of the pain and vomiting and it was such a relief to have it gone. I think I slept most of that admission. It seemed that 24 hours was up too quickly and I was sent home. Luckily, the pain had mostly eased up and I was given a prescription of Percocet to get me through the intermittent pain of the next few weeks until the scheduled surgery.
Read the next installment here.