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.)