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.
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