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...)
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