It's Just a Flesh Wound...

Any Monty Python fans out there?  Let's get into a nice jovial mood, then!

And so I've been away for the past few days, very far from my comfort zone, my home and my wonderful wife Jennifer. If you have been reading along, you'll know that the time had come for me to travel to the Big Apple. New York City. Manhattan. Lower East Side. Specifically, to the Veterans Administration hospital on East 23rd Street. It was time to take care of this melanoma that was previously discovered, down in Orlando FL, on my left shoulder. I am just now realizing that I was extremely naive about this little brown spot - I seemed to be the only one who had no clue as to how serious this was.

It had never really bothered me, aside from some mild itching at times. The first doctor to look at it simply popped out his handy-dandy can of liquid nitrogen and tried to freeze it off. When that didn't seem to have the desired results, I ended up seeing a dermatologist, who did a biopsy and determined that it was a malignant cancer, a melanoma. Which would require surgery to remove. So far, so good. But the ultimate chain of events would stretch across several months and a thousand miles.

Dr. Talley, in the Orlando VA hospital, does the initial tissue removal from the center of the picture you see above. In two weeks we are scheduled to leave for PA. He stitches me up and makes an appointment for the following week, to remove the sutures and possibly give me the biopsy report. During the next visit, I am told that the biopsy results needed further study, and that I should come in again in a week. No can do, doc. We'll be on the road to PA. The doctor takes our new address info down and promises to mail the results as soon as they come in.

Things go into high gear at this point, and looking back at what has happened, I give it all to God, for the miracles He worked and the speed at which it all happened. We're in our new home for only  few days when the report arrives: melanoma - malignant. So many mils deep. Recommend immediate attention when you arrive in PA. The doctor wants  me to see someone ASAP when I check in with the local VA. I call what should be my CBOC (Community-based outpatient clinic) in Allentown, and find out the earliest they can fit me in is August 27th. We're in the 2nd week of July. Not going to work, so I ask them for an alternative. I am given an appointment for the VA hospital in Wilkes-Barre (W-B) for July 26th. Okay, I'll take that.

Now this appointment has nothing to do with the cancer report - it's supposed to be an intake meeting to establish my new residence in PA.  Wilkes-Barre is about 45 miles away, but it'll work. Jen and I drive over, and I finally get to see a doctor in PA. After all of the requisite Q&A, he pulls up my records and finds the melanoma report from Orlando. Looks like there will be another appointment in Wilkes-Barre (W-B from now on) for the dermatologist, to discuss this further. It will be in a week, they'll call me.

And they do, and it's back on the road to W-B. Only this time, I really sense an urgency that hasn't been there before. The dermatologist calls in an oncologist - they have the Orlando report, with details about how wide and deep the cells are. After a consult, it is determined that a whole lot of my shoulder needs to be excised. Probably about 4" across and 1/8th" deep. And because of the scope of this removal, plastic surgery will be necessary to repair the area. Oh, great! I've got this little brown spot on my skin, and they're going to remove half my shoulder. I'm not liking the conversation up to this point, but what comes next is worse: "Mr. Barth, we can't perform this kind of surgery here in W-B, so you'll have to go to either Philadelphia or New York City for the procedure. We'll contact the proper doctors and let you know when we have all of the arrangements made." Philly? NYC?? Whoa, Nellie! How about right here? Nope! Ain't gonna happen, so I say, "Let's make it Philly, since we're in PA right now. NYC is just too flippin' far away!" "We'll do what we can, Mr. Barth. We'll be in touch."

Distance time! Philadelphia is about 70 miles from our home. As far as I'm concerned, even that distance is too far away. It's just me and Jen. We have 2 dogs that need to be walked several times a day. We only have one car, a little Escort. How am I going to get back and forth? Will I have to stay in the hospital? Schedules? On and on... My wonderful wife is nothing but comforting assurance, something that I am supposed to be but am failing at miserably right now. It is times like thins when we have to turn to Him for that assurance, but I am too panicky to be sensible right now. Jen just says, "Let's just wait and see what happens, honey." And I slowly turn down the panic mode. Prayer is a wonderful thing, and right now, we're remembering Philippians 4: 6-7 -  Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. It is precisely times like this when leaning on God is just the right medicine.

Jen is asking me for about the 3rd time, "when are they going to call you about the appointment?" when the phone rings.  W-B VA has made all of the arrangements, and I will be going to the Manhattan VA Medical Center to consult with a plastic surgeon. "Why not Philly?" Sorry, but only the NY center has the doctors that do this work. Oh, great! The hospital is 103 miles from our house, as Mapquest flies. I start doing calculations: I am scheduled for the initial consultation in a week. And then who knows how many more times before this thing is done. Three times? Four? Will I be hospitalized? For how long? And the best part - how in blazes do I get to Manhattan for all of this? On top of all this, I HATE New York City! Send me anywhere but New York City! We have just moved from Florida to Pennsylvania, and we aren't even settled in, and now I have to go to NYC!?!

I get back with W-B, and they have a way to get me there and back. Oh, yes, they do. They just happen to run a shuttle bus to Manhattan for these kinds of things. It leaves at oh-dark-thirty, 4 AM (so they can miss the morning rush hour), and returns after the last veteran's appointment. My appointment is for 1 PM. So - I will leave my home at 2 AM, drive the 45 miles to W-B, take the shuttle bus at 4 AM, get into the city around 6:30, wait around until my 1 PM appointment, wait until the last appointment of the day, ride back to W-B, and then drive back home, probably after dark. And this is just for the consultation. I have no idea what will happen after that.

But God loves to work His miracles, and what would happen from this point on is a testament to His Glory! 

(to be continued...)

God @ Work

Jen deals a lot with on-line buying and selling. If it's not Craig's List, it's Amazon, or QVC, or e-Bay...what I'm trying to say is that she knows her way around the Web. Before we left Central Florida, we sold just about everything we had through one of the above, including my Ranger pick-up, our washer and dryer and a brand-new refrigerator. And most of our furniture. Get the picture?

And so, when we got ourselves situated in our new digs here in Palmerton, we started looking to re-stock with new stuff. Well, not "new" new, but replacements for what we had left behind. We went looking for a new living room set first - we were sitting on a rocking chair and a small easy-chair, the only things we had. And they were getting really tiring. So Jen went looking on-line, and we found a small recliner sofa at Ashley's. Went to look at it, and although it was a bit over our budget, we ordered it. Had to put a 50% deposit on it, but it was due in a week. We had to pay a $125 delivery fee, although the warehouse it was coming from was in our immediate area.

The very next day, Jen found a sofa/love seat/chair set through Craig's List. Three pieces instead of one, and $200 less. No recliners, but we're not picky. We went to look at the set and it was beautiful - well-kept, clean. And the guy selling it was affable and generous - when we decided we would take it, he offered to deliver it to our home the same day, free of charge. Not only that, but Jen asked him if he could do some pick-up/delivery for us (paid, of course) for other things we were shopping for but couldn't transport in our little Escort. And he gave us a very low fee and his phone number.

We got back home and cancelled our Ashley order, cleaned out the living room, and within a few hours, we had our new furniture. We had felt a bit rushed and anxious to buy something at Ashley's, and it just didn't feel right. You know that nagging doubt that you have when you make some decision that isn't quite "there." We were feeling rushed, not relaxed, about the purchase, and when we settled down and acted on our faith (of course we were praying about all of this), it all fell right into place. Thank you, Lord.

Now, that may not seem too "miraculous," but the next situation is a bit more interesting. Now Jen is looking for a small kitchen table. We have a small galley kitchen, with no room for a full-sized table and chairs, so she was looking for a smaller round table with fold-down ears and matching chairs, Had to be off-white to match the rest of the kitchen, with maybe a nice wood grain top. So it was off to Craig's List and shopping. She found several sets that were very attractively priced, and started sending replies to the 2-3 sellers - do you still have the furniture, and if so, we can pick it up immediately. Sure sale, right? She got zero answers, so she re-sent the requests...again, no replies. Now this isn't an hourly thing - she waited several days, with no results. And in one instance, the seller re-listed the table she was trying to buy. Jen re-applied and no one responded. We started investigating whether or not our e-mails were being blocked, and tried other addresses - no joy! We even asked someone else to send an offer. Nope! What was Jen doing wrong? She knew how the system worked, but it wasn't working now.

And then, as she was looking for another table, an offer popped up that was only about an hour or so old. Jen sent an offer, and got an immediate reply. Hmmmmm...  She called the lady, and found out that the table was indeed still available. Not only that, but the location was a very short drive from our home. Jen made arrangements to pick up the set the next day, and we were off to get the new stuff. We drove through a little town called Slatington, which looked like it had been there since colonial times (sights like this make me sure that I have made the right choice in moving to PA), and when we arrived, the lady had the table dis-assembled and ready to load into the car. Jen got to talking with her, and told her about our move from Florida, and found out that she had also moved "back home" to PA from FL about 15 years ago. She had lived on the west coast, in Central FL and knew where we had come from. And unlike most of the locals who usually question why I would ever move from FL to PA, this woman told me about the wonders of Fall and Spring, and even the nice things about winter. We immediately bonded!

As we loaded the pieces, I noticed that everything was quality grade. This wasn't a cheap table - it was well-built and sturdy. The color was just what Jen had wanted. And it was way under-priced! Now, Jen had looked at several other sets, some priced at around $40-$60, and that probably were the standard Wal-Mart grade. But no matter how hard she had tried to buy any of them, no one had bothered to respond to her offer. But when she saw this set, and sent her e-mail request, she got an immediate reply.

And here it sits in our little kitchen. It is perfect! The price was way below what it was worth. The lady that sold it to us gave us a further break on the price. She was also a Pennsylvania ex-pat who moved back from Central Florida. Now, anyone can call all of this coincidence, luck, whatever, but Jen and I know what happened here, and what happened with our living room furniture. We ended up with the best outcome of all because we know Who is watching over us. And we put all of our trust in Him. And He delivers! He always does.

And here is the clincher - if you have been following my situation with the VA and my cancer, you will know that I have been to the VA hospital in Manhattan for the initial consultation with the plastic surgeon. Initially, I was going to have to come back to NYC for yet another consultation with the surgeons who would do the excision and lymph node work. But my plastic surgeon managed to get 3 doctors to see me before I left, something that even she didn't think she could do. Then, surgery was arranged for the 28th, two weeks distant, but I was going to have to come back a week earlier for what they call a "pre-bed" check-up - blood work, possible EKG and stress test, talk with the anesthesiologist, etc. I talked with her and told her that I lived 100 miles from the hospital and that it was next to impossible to keep coming back for these things - could I possibly get the pre-bed done in Wilkes-Barre or Allentown? She didn't think so, but told me to call the department responsible for this schedule and ask them. When I left Manhattan, I was set for surgery on the 28th, the real possibility of having to be there on the afternoon of the 27th, and a good chance of having to stay in the hospital for 2-3 days of observation.

The plastic surgeon called me yesterday to ask me to contact her after I had talked to the pre-bed team, and tell her what they had said. The number she had given me led to voice mail, and I left a message to call me back. I was hoping that I could get over to Wilkes-Barre, do the pre-bed testing, and then I'd only have to go to Manhattan the day before the surgery. I had even talked the main surgeons into letting me go home the day of the surgery, as an out-patient. I didn't want to stay in the hospital unless absolutely necessary. So now I'm sitting here at home waiting for a phone call from someone, anyone, giving me further instructions.

And this morning, my cell-phone rings - it's one of the main surgeons who will do the removal surgery and the lymph node thing. It seems that they have decided to do the surgery a week earlier, on the 23rd. What about the pre-bed? I'm trying to get it done in Wilkes-Barre instead of NYC. "Well, I'm going over your health charts and you seem to be fairly healthy - no heart attacks or other medical problems - so I think we can do the pre-bed the day prior to your surgery. If you can get over here on the 22nd, we can do all of the initial work then, schedule you for the nuclear test (putting radio-active dye in the melanoma and tracing it to the lymph nodes) first thing in the morning, then we'll do the surgery to remove the melanoma around 11 - 11:30, check on the lymph nodes, and then turn you over to Dr. Zampell to close up the hole in your shoulder. We'd like to have you spend the night, and you can go home on Saturday."

I thank him several times for being so willing to work with my distance issues, and hang up the phone. And then I give God a bigger thank-you...Jen and I have been praying ever since this thing on my shoulder was diagnosed, and in one instance after another, doors have opened up, schedules have changed, and more than ever, the VA, which is generally not known for expediency, has been on top of this from the get-go. I am not anyone special, not a celebrity, not some big war hero, just a little guy in the system. But the system has taken care of me more than I ever could have imagined. I have experienced God at work over and over again, and this situation has His finger-prints all over it. And although it seems redundant, I have to repeat His promise to me, to us: "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

I know that I have quite a future ahead of me - I am with Jen's family, now my family, too. I have two wonderful daughters, two sons-in-law, and 7 beautiful grand-children in my life. That's why I moved to Pennsylvania - it was Jen's home, and now it's mine, too. And God is with us! I have absolutely no doubt about that. He is in everything we do, and I give Him all the glory!

Gary vs. Manhattan

So today was the day I was to be in Manhattan for my consultation with the plastic surgeon. "Plastic surgeon" because to remove the melanoma on my left shoulder, they have to remove a patch of skin about 3" in diameter, and about 1/8th" deep. And that ain't something they can throw a few stitches at. But let's get to the whole story.

The VA hospital in Wilkes-Barre made the appointment in, and arranged transportation to, the Manhattan center. It's located on the lower East Side, just off FDR Drive. Now to anyone who lives in the area, that's just another address. But to me, that was another planet. The Big Apple! New. York. City. Jen wanted to go with me, and we went so far as to MapQuest the route - straight drive from PA to Jersey, and then a nightmare of turns and loops that made me dizzy just looking at the route. I ain't going! Well, yes I was, but... If you have been following the story, I had resigned myself to leaving for Wilkes-Barre at 2 AM, taking their shuttle at 4, getting to Manhattan around 7, sitting around until my appointment at 1 PM, and then reversing the trip sometime in the late afternoon. I'm thinking I'll get home probably around 7 or 8 PM if I'm lucky. And this is just a consultation - after that I'll have to go back for the surgery. So at least two exhausting all-day trips. I'm not a happy camper.

But my daughter and her husband graciously offer to take me to NYC! Bless you, my children! A huge worry is lifted from my shoulders. Of course, this is only one of at least 2 trips, but I'm not going to worry about anything but this one. God says not to worry about the future, because it does no good. And I agree. And so this morning, Jen takes me over to our daughter's house, where I will leave with Dave for you-know-where. We hit the road about 10 AM, and it doesn't take much time to get to Jersey. The fun starts when we hit the Newark airport and turn north. Oh, boy! I do not like driving in heavy traffic, and this is (in my humble opinion) heavy! If you aren't in the correct lane at the right time, you're going someplace you didn't plan on. But Dave weaves his way in and out of the mess, and we only make one mistake - we miss the exit from I-95 to the Lincoln Tunnel, which would have routed us almost directly across Manhattan to East 23 Street, and end up taking the George Washington Bridge over to the north end of the city, and then follow FDR Drive along the East River to the VA Hospital. It was a bit out of the way, but the traffic wasn't very bad (according to Dave...it was "white-knuckes" to me the whole way) and soon we were at our destination.

Now the "New York Experience" begins. Well, it actually began when I found out it cost $13 just to drive across the George Washington Bridge! What??? But that paled in comparison when we look for parking. There is none at the hospital - they actually warn you on their Web site that you can forget parking there, unless you have a handicapped sticker. So Dave drives up the block a-ways and spots a PARKING sign - oh, great! Until he pulls in and the attendant tells us that the SUV is too big. "So where do we find parking?" "Down at the other end of the street", he points. And so we turn around. Have you ever tried a 3-point turn on a NYC street? We're gonna die! But Dave pulls it off, and we head back past the hospital.

And there at the end, very close to the hospital entrance, is another public parking garage. When we pull up, a guy rushes out, and I'm thinking, "Sorry, but we're full," or "No SUVs!" But the dude walks over and says that we can park there, no problems. How long will we be? "Oh, about 2 hours." Guy writes something down, looks like he's copying our tag number, and comes back.."That will be $40!" WHAT??? Dave sees a sign that says something like $29 and change, and says, "So you're charging us an extra $10?" "Oh, that's because you're in an SUV!" Right! Bull-hockey, but it's now 12:30, and no time to argue with the flim-flam garage man, so Dave pays him and we're told we can park anywhere from the 2nd level up. There ain't NO special parking spaces, no over-sized spots, no "reserved for SUV" signs, but we have just paid $40 for 120 minutes of parking space. Welcome to the Big Apple!

We walk about a half block to the hospital entrance, and go inside. This is a hospital, but the security seems like the TSA should be running the show. Empty your pockets, put everything in a tray, walk through a metal detector... I have never passed through one of these things wiothout setting off the bells and whistles, and this time is no different. Spread my arms, while the guy with the wand goes over the body. Bzzzzzzzz! Oh, dang, what did I forget? Whoops! I still had a pocket full of loose change, and now half of it is on the floor. Why me, Lord? The guard, I am so glad to say, was not a TSA-type, and smiling, he lets me pass. Dave gets wanded, too, but now we are both looking for Plastic Surgery. A VA policemen graciously calls on his radio and gets us immediate help. I am beginning to like the atmosphere in here - everyone seems to be so helpful. We are directed to the elevators and the 5th floor, and soon I am checked in and we settle down to wait. I am still a few minutes early - how the heck did we manage that???

Now the serious stuff begins - I see a doctor, a plastic surgeon whom I assume will be taking care of that phase of my treatment. But the complications start - she will do the reconstructive surgery, but first, several other events have to happen: before the removal of the malignant tissue, there will be a radio-active dye injected into the region. Which will then be traced to any lymph node(s) that may be draining the tissues. Once that is established, another surgeon will remove a single lymph node for biopsy. Only then will they remove the melanoma, and then the plastic surgeon will do her thing and close the wound. Okay, fine so far. BUT - I need to come back to Manhattan for a consult with the surgeon who will do the lymph node/melanoma removal. A consult, mind you...we're still not talking about actual surgery.

And I'm about ready to flip out here. I live over 100 miles away, and everyone is talking like I can just drive over and do this stuff. I can't, and I tell the plastic surgeon that. I explain about the Wilkes-Barre routine - 4 AM to Manhattan, all day in NYC, back to Wilkes-Barre and back home. I am just not accepting this scenario. And then (God is always there, and I sense it now), she totally understands, and tells me that she will make a phone call and see if I can be seen by the other surgeon before I leave. Thank you, ma'am!!  A few minutes later, she tells me that it will take a few hours, but we can do it. Whoops! I can't make my son-in-law sit in that waiting room for 2-34 more hours while we do this, and I express my concerns. "Well, I don't know if I can find the doctor - he's probably not available right now, or even today, but let me see what I can do!" And about 10 minutes later, I have 3 doctors standing in front of me, asking me questions and telling me, in great detail, what they will be doing. God is good! 

Before I am released, I already have a tentative appointment for surgery, in two weeks. The plastic surgeon has even re-arranged her schedule to fit me in, and the other surgeons have done likewise. Now comes the other news - I will have to spend about 3 days in the hospital so the doctors can be sure everything went okay.  I know, I know...I am being very difficult now, but there is no way I'm going to stay in a NYC hospital for 3 days. This is strange to me. Most hospitals like to kick you out the door as soon as you come out of anesthesia. I ask all of them a question: can this be done as an out-patient? And all of them seem to think that, if I want to go home the same day, it will be okay. Alright! Now we're talking turkey. With one very small exception - they want me in the hospital the night before the surgery. Okay, I guess I can do that. My main concern in all of this is to try to make this trip the next and last trip I will ever make to NYC. It is extremely difficult to get from Palmerton PA to Manhattan at all, let alone multiple times. And I will do everything in my power to go to the VA hospital there only once more, to have this surgery.

There is more - the hospital, and the surgeons, want me to go through what they call a "pre-bed" preparation - blood work, seeing the anesthesiologist, getting an EKG (?), etc. Again, I am being asked to come back to the hospital prior to the surgery date for this procedure. I ask them, pleadingly, if there is ANY way I can get this done in Wilkes-Barre, or even Allentown. And I'm told that it might be possible - I have to talk to the department that handles this and find out if they will allow it. So now, I am released, with a message that I will be contacted after I get home and will have to follow up at that time. And I am finally walking out of the hospital, 2 hours later, with no idea what's going to happen next.

I'm ready to get back in the car and hit the road, and I thought Dave would feel the same way, but his first thought is to go down the street and get some lunch. That's fine with me, as I haven't had anything since I left the house this morning. We walk over to a street vendor, and get a hot dog and a gyro, ands stand there watching the world go by. If there is one interesting thing about NYC, it's the people. In the 20 minutes or so we stand there eating our lunch, I see a microcosm of the world in motion. Bankers, students, a delivery truck using a very inventive way of parking, a guy walking his dog, who is begging us for a bite. One of those bicycle delivery guys, weaving in and out of the gawd-awful traffic like a lunatic. Constant commotion, never stopping, an ocean of humanity flowing around us as we stand there, taking it all in.

But I can't wait to get back on the road. I am a coward when it comes to the big city, and I want to get back to little Palmerton and my love. We head back out into the city, and manage to leave the exact way we entered, along the FDR Drive, over the George Washington Bridge, and off down I-95. Ah! We're headed home, and I'm feeling okay. The day wasn't as bad as I had imagined, and in a few hours, we'd be back in PA.

Anyway, that was the way it was supposed to work. We got through the Jersey traffic and headed out I-78 headed west. It was more or less a straight shot the rest of the way. It was about 4 PM when we saw the first electronic highway sign, warning us that there was a truck fire around Exit 13, and that all lanes were closed - expect long delays. Okay, but we were a long way from Exit 13, and maybe we could exit I-78 before the jam and take an alternate. That was the plan, but as we cruised along, we kept ignoring the warnings and the alternate exit routes. It could always be the "next exit"...until we ended up right in the middle of that traffic jam, around Exit 24. Now, exits are mile markers, so we  are in a parking lot approximately 11 miles from the accident. As far as the eye can see, west-bound traffic is dead! Dave and I compare estimates, and we both guess that there are probably 300-500 semis in the road that we can see. The GPS in the SUV says our ETA at home is 5:03 PM when we enter the jam.

As we continue to inch along, the ETA changes - 5:30, 5:45, 6:00, 6:30, 7:00. I call Jen and tell her that we are going to be very late getting in, and ask her to call Annie, our daughter and Dave's wife, and relay the news, because Dave's I-Phone has died. When we finally passed the scene of the accident, we had been in that traffic jam for over 3 hours! I had never seen something that bad, and neither had Dave. He had been willing to take me back to Palmerton, but after everything that had gone down trying to get home, I told him to go home and called Jen, asking her to come and get me there.

After what seems like 3 days, we are back home, and I have never been so relieved. The dogs are going nuts...they have been looking for me all day, and now they are very happy, almost as happy as I am to see them! My first trip to the Big Apple has been a real experience, but truthfully, I do not want to go back. My surgery has been scheduled for August 28th, and they want me there on the 27th. They also want me there on the 21st, for that "pre-bed" thing,, which I will be trying my hardest to avoid by getting it done in Wilkes-Barre. I still have to deal with them on that, but I'm optimistic - every time I have faced a problem like this, it has been dealt with in my favor. And I give that to God, who keeps watching over me. So far, in every situation I have faced, a solution has been reached that has been in my favor. I give Him the credit for everything. The Bible tells us: "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." - Philippians 4:6. And I can tell you personally that He has proven that to me time and time again. And so I continue, and there will be more to come.

 

After 66 Years in Florida...(and proof that miracles DO happen!)

...I am diagnosed with a melanoma. Me, the kid who lived in the sun most of my life, who lived at the beach as a kid, who worked outside half my life. Me, the guy who mowed the lawn bare-chested, whose wife admonished him to wear a hat and a shirt.

I went to a local doctor in Deltona who decided to freeze the growth off my left shoulder, and said that would take care of it.  But probably about 6 months later it started itching, and Jen begged me to go to the VA clinic and have it looked at. Which I finally did, about 6 months ago. And after putting the initial appointment off, I finally made it in to see a dermatologist.

Now the VA is not the fastest shop in town...I sat in their waiting room once for 4 hours waiting to see someone. But after the doctor at the VA hospital in Orlando looked at this, he asked me to come back in a week to have it biopsied. That was a record turn-around, but I made it back in the following week, and the doctor removed the core of the growth, and again asked me to come back in a week to have the stitches removed and to go over the biopsy. Too bad - we were leaving town before I could get back, so he made arrangements to see me on an off day just before our trip.

Although the doctor was not available that visit, his nurse told me while removing the stitches that the report had come back positive, and to make sure they had my new address so the doctor could contact me. Within a week of arriving in PA, I got the report that I had tested positive for a malignant melanoma, and that I should get in touch with the local VA ASAP.

And now this has kicked off the most interesting chain of events I have witnessed since the VA took over my health care. It seems that when cancer is involved, at least in my case, the VA gets going fast. I had the report from Orlando stating that the doctor recommended urgent care, as soon as I got to PA. When I finally arrived up here, I called the Allentown out-patient clinic (closest to my home here in Palmerton), and asked for an appointment, mainly to change my address and start my visits here. The first they could see me was August 28th (we arrived here on the 7th of July). I told them I had to get all of my records situated in PA, and that my meds would run out before that happened, and they made a new appointment at the end of July in Wilkes-Barre, about a 45-mile drive. But at least I got in.

When i got to the Wilkes-Barre hospital, I was seen by a doctor who went over everything, and looked at my records. Then he looked at my shoulder. Uh-oh! "We have to look at this closer, and right away!" They would contact me shortly and let me know my new appointment. I was hardly back home when I was called - there was a new appointment the following Monday, in Wilkes-Barre, with an oncologist. My head was spinning - the VA does NOT work this fast!  So it's back to the hospital, where a cancer specialist takes a closer look. And calls in two other doctors for a 2nd opinion. Turns out the melanoma excised in Orlando was fairly deep, and according to some medical formula, to remove what's left will require them to remove a piece of my shoulder about 3 inches in diameter and about 1/8th of an inch deep.

Okay! And ouch! But that's not all. This wound will require plastic surgery to close, something that the Wilkes-Barre hospital isn't prepared to do. Not only that, but the doctors want to check the adjacent lymph nodes to make sure they were not compromised by the cancer. This will require the injection of some dye into the area and "nuclear medicine" to scope it all out. Again, not in the Wilkes-Barre venue.

Next thing I know, I have an appointment with the VA hospital in Lower Manhattan, over 100 miles away, to see their oncologists and plastic surgeons. For a consult! And just how in blazes am I going to get to the Manhattan hospital? Funny I should ask...there is transportation from the Wilkes-Barre facility to the Manhattan location. Okay, that's good. But it leaves at 4 AM. That's bad! My appointment is for 1 PM on August 12. I will have to leave my home in Palmerton at around 2 AM to get to Wilkes-Barre in time to catch the bus. The ride takes about 3 hours (they pick up some others on the way), and I will get to the VA in Manhattan around 7 AM. That gives me roughly 6 hours of sitting in the hospital before I see the doctors. And as the bus waits for everyone to "take care of business" before returning, I have no idea how long it will be before I get back to Wilkes-Barre for the 45-mile drive back home.

I am overwhelmed by this news! Remember, this is only for a consultation - when they decide what to do, this whole scenario will need to be repeated. Only this time, I will be in bandages recovering from the excising of a melanoma and the resulting skin graft (of skin from who-knows-where). And I confess right here and now - I am weak when I think of this. I have no fear of pain - I have rather severe atrhritis and I'm in pain most of the time anyway - so it's not that. But I will be by myself, driving a lot of miles through strange territory, a lot of that in darkness. Then I will be taken to New York City, WAY out of my comfort zone, to see some doctors about removing cancer from my body, and then I will have to reverse the procedure, again alone, to get home. And I know that Jen will be worried sick about me from the minute I drive away until I return. It will be an all-day trip, and this time, not an "adventure."

And I will have to do this at least twice - when they decide what to do, I will have to go back and get it done, again all by myself. Frankly, I am scared. More by the whole trip than by the cancer itself. If Jen could only go...  And so we look into driving into NYC ourselves. The logistics begin: dogs will probably need to be kenneled for the day. Mapquest shows a trip of 103 miles. Getting out of PA is a snap...it's when we get into New Jersey that the obstacles begin - tolls, multiple on- and off-ramps, traffic concerns. And then we get to the hospital itself. I guess I am naive, but I just thought that hospitals had parking. Not in NYC! We might find parking blocks away in some public facility, but no guarantees. The hospital recommends public transportation. Jen can't walk "blocks", so the trip is shot down at that point. We talk about it, and the only logical solution is my trip to Wilkes-Barre at oh-dark-thirty, the ride to Manhattan and back in the shuttle, and the long drive home. We pray about this (we pray about everything, and it always gives me peace of mind knowing that He is in control), and I resign myself to the trip. (I am writing this right now on Saturday, August 10th, and my appointment is on Monday)

The miracle I mentioned?  I preface the remainder of this story by reminding all that we moved here to be with our family. I took Jen away over 15 years ago, and both she and our daughters have wanted her (us) to return. And so, we now see our kids (our daughters are Jen's children by birth - I am their step-father - but I think of them as my daughters) frequently, and with the new arrival of our newest grand-daughter Penny, things are even more special.

Anyhow, our oldest, Annie, dropped by for a visit yesterday, and Jen got to tell her the story of my travails with the VA and my cancer. Bless her, she looked at a trip to NYC as just another outing, as she and her family have been there often enough to be very familiar with the city. She souldn't understand my trepidations about the trip until we told her about the Wilkes-Barre to Manhattan portion, and thought that was a bit much. I left her and her Mom to talk, and she had to return to her job after her lunch break. She had also told us about a vehicle auction her company was having, and recommended we bid on a Jeep Grand Cherokee, since we need another vehicle, preferably one with all-wheel drive for the winter months. She even went and took pictures of several cars that we might like to bid on. Sweet!

I was waiting for a call from the VA concerning the trip, and it came yesterday, so I started mentally preparing myself. As we sat in the living room watching TV, Jen got a text message from Annie. The message read something like: "Dave will take Gary to Manhattan on Monday." Very short, but it spoke volumes to me. Our son-in-law, Annie's husband, would drive me to NYC, to the VA hospital. I cannot describe the elation I felt, knowing that our family was offering to take me 100 miles to (what might as well be) a foreign city for my appointment. And that, my friends, is a miracle! I had accepted the alternative and prayed about it with Jen, and was ready and willing to do this thing all alone, by myself, in an geographic location where I had absolutely NO experience. Apprehensive but accepting, I had no idea that Annie and Dave would do this for me.

And that is what family is all about. I have been a distant step-father for over 15 years, and have only known Jen's family through infrequent trips between PA and FL. Her daughters seemed to accept me then. Now I am a very integral part of Jen's family, but I had no expectations when we arrived. I am so proud that Annie and her husband stepped in and offered this trip to me. Amanda and her husband JT have been just as receptive, and I continue to thank God for leading me up here. I say "me" because Jen would have accepted any decision I might have made concerning moving - she was ready to stay in Florida, had the Lord made that apparent to us. I really feel acceptance by her children now, and I know that the relationships within this family will continue to prosper and grow. Jen has a favorite verse from the Bible that is even inscribed in her wedding band, and it is quickly becoming mine, too:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

Might I conclude by stating that I have never seen the VA work this quickly or stay the course like they have on my case. Apparently, they view this melanoma as a very serious threat to my health, and want to "fix" it as soon as possible. In the past, I may have pooh-poohed them because of their less-than-speedy service in other areas. But they have nothing but my respect and admiration for their attention to my health right now.

(This trip will be for a consultation only, and I have absolutely no idea when I will have to return to Manhattan for the actual surgery, and perhaps any follow-ups that may be needed. But the Bible also tells us that we shouldn't worry about anything but today, so I am putting all of this in His hands, and will take the future as it comes.)