Home!
Everyone has been calling and texting and emailing asking for an update. Sorry I haven’t communicated quite as much, but my days have been busy with the commute to Philadelphia hospital each day – taking care of the boys – keeping the house together and taking care of Lori.
We found out Thursday night that Lori’s surgery was scheduled for 5:45 the next morning (sigh), so we loaded the car, drove to PHL and stayed at the hotel that connects to the hospital. The next morning as Lori sat in her gown waiting to be transported to surgery, we got a text that our nephew and wife had a beautiful baby boy. I’m sure Lori went under anesthesia with a smile, and I had tears of joy and noted anxiety to manage as I kissed Lori goodbye.
Thanks for the flowers Eugene and Annebeth
The surgery went well. The doctor used the word “excellent.” I was in the waiting corral (word used intentionally to indicate how I feel about the PHL hospital experience) from 6:45 am to 2:30 pm during which time I got two calls from her doctors saying everything went fine. (At LGH they come to see you and look you in the eye to convey this info).
I met Lori back at her room on Friday and she was really out of it – but pleasant when she was awake. On Saturday Lori’s parents braved the snow and visited her in the morning, and I brought the boys down after lunch and we did 2nd shift. We set up a projector in the room and watched Netflix as a family – it was fun. Lori clicked on her morphine pump every 10 minutes and enjoyed the movie with us.
The room smelled great from the fresh flowers we received including this bouquet from our dear friends in the Netherlands, Annebeth and Eugene Reesink. The card said “congratulations” which isn’t what you normally hear after a mastectomy. (We had a good laugh about that!) Note to self, if you send flowers overseas, manage the message carefully.
Sunday morning Lori woke up feeling pretty punk and said to herself, there is NO way she’ll be able to come home that day. But like Lori, she made an almost miraculous recovery around mid-day and climbed out of bed and said, “I’m feeling so much better now.” They took off her IV and got her on oral painkillers – loaded her on a wheelchair and sent her on her way.
Lori had lots of help to come home
She is so very glad to be home, the dogs are thrilled and won’t leave her side.
For all of you who posted, please know that she read your comments again and again and it was a huge encouragement to her. Thanks SO much for all the love and encouragement we have received through this ordeal.
Another Round
Some things get easier the more you do them, but some things get much harder. I think surgery and medical procedures are in the latter category, at least that’s the case with Lori and what she’ll be facing tomorrow.
I’m really proud of her for doing her research and selecting a top-notch surgeon in Philadelphia to conduct her surgery. The purpose of this many hour procedure will be to remove all tissue that is at high risk for breast cancer re-occurrence (for those obtuse guys reading this, it means basically “everything in front of the rib cage that bounces when you ride a horse”). The surgeon will then pull skin from around the left side of her back and anywhere else they can stretch it from Lori’s skinny body to prepare her for reconstruction.
God willing, Lori will come home Sunday night or Monday with three drains, two on the left side and one on the right. I guess she’ll sleep standing up for the first two weeks.
Lori attacked her first surgery last Thanksgiving, plowed through her chemo better than anyone could have, endured her radiation better than the average patient, then blew through her hysterectomy better than I endure a head-cold. But this surgery has her backed down. I think even Lori is emotionally tired and is worried about the long painful recovery that others have described.
SO…
I’m calling on everyone for another round of support for Lori. No prayers for her and our family will be turned away.
Thanks everyone for you love and ongoing care!
Steve
D-Day: One Year Later
(Note: This blog entry authored by Lori)
WOW D – day (diagnosis day), one year later! How your life can change in a year! For the better? Absolutely! I remember walking out of the hospital Nov. 9th 2010 in a daze after getting the “cancer” diagnosis and telling Steve “ this will not take me down”! Has it? No way – thanks to my family and friends! I admit to many low points along the way but the outpouring of love shown to me and my family picked me right back up!
Thank you all so much for all the prayers, gifts, acts of kindness, meals, encouraging words and support along the way! My heart is so full from the generosity of everyone this past year! I could not have made it without you!
God has taught me many things along the way – especially how precious each day is and not to take a moment for granted (in this hectic paced life is not easy to slow down and savor the moment-but I am learning!) He continues to show me what a wonderful and special family I have (the best there is!!) and what amazing friends I have! Words cannot describe how grateful I am for all of you!
So, I have made it to the one year mark – considered ‘disease free’ at this point! Time to celebrate! As triple negative breast cancer is a very aggressive cancer this is indeed a reason to celebrate!
I am looking forward to a great Christmas with my family! In the beginning of January, Steve and I are going to California for a couple of days to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary!
January 20th I am scheduled for my final surgery (There are fewer and fewer body part left of me to remove) – a second mastectomy with reconstruction. This will be my toughest procedures as it will be over four to six months, during which time I’ll have two surgeries and many trips to the doctor’s office at The University Of Pennsylvania (two hrs away) if all goes well. Part of me is dreading it and part of me is ready to attack this final stage!
I am ready to get back in the saddle again (literally) and hoping that by next summer there will be a special horse for me to ride!
Thank you all again for supporting me on this journey! I am truly blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life!
Thanks For Loving Us Through It
It’s a snowy October morning (did I just say that?) and I just found this video (because it was shared by one of Lori’s “cancer friends.”) I can’t think of any way to express how we feel about how much we’ve been loved through our journey in the last year.
Short summary – we are post surgery and treatment, but still have some more surgeries to go this winter. No signs of cancer – YEAH! As Lori’s type of cancer is quite aggressive, reaching the one year mark is significant and brings hope.
This year has changed us permanently. I would say that we’re much better people with scars. Our view of our community of friends will never be the same. It was the most humbling experience – ever – to be overwhelmed with every type of kindness in such great measure. At our one year anniversary month – also breast cancer awareness month – we’d like to tell everyone, “thanks for loving us through it.”
(Warning – tissues needed to watch this)
Been a long time
Apologies to everyone for not blogging after we got a loyal following. The complaints have been pouring in!
So, how are we doing. Well, Lori’s got a smart hairdo. She gets compliments everywhere she goes. Last week she went to Phoenix with me on a business trip. Walking through the airport a traveler randomly walked up to us and said to Lori, “I love your hair. My wife wears her hair like that.” It was fun.
What’s next? As many of you know, it’s been a tough year. Jan , Feb, March, April was chemo time. May and June were radiation months. July included another major surgery removing other organs that are at high risk for cancer because of Lori’s genetic testing. Starting August we starting working on our new normal.
What’s a new normal? Lori is starting to do some more teaching again. She’s growing hair. She’s taking time to fix up the house. She’s taking care of everyone that took care of her. She’s working at YDOP more and more (I’m liking that!). And she’s living with the new perspective that cancer gives you: to live each day as though it is important, because each day is a gift.
Lori “Cancer Free” Wolgemuth
We got some great news today. It was the result of a biopsy, post-surgery. Now, it’s not that we’re not interested in the details, but the doctors words “everything looked good” was perhaps the best news we’ve heard in a long time. Had they found any trace of cancer cells in Lori’s ovaries or uterus, it would have meant more treatments and at best a hope for remission. The word cure wouldn’t have been used. As it stands, we are standing on “best we’ve heard yet” odds that Lori is beating breast cancer. YEAH!
Coming Home
Don’t faint – two blogs back to back after a long period of silence. First, I want all of you who took the time to post on the last blog – it meant so much to Lori. She carefully reads and re-reads and re-re-reads the comments and finds tremendous encouragement from them.
The doctor told me yesterday that the surgery went well. In fact, it only took 2 hours and was supposed to take 3 1/2 hours. All tissue removed showed no visible indication of disease. While Lori was potentially going to be in the hospital until tomorrow (fri), the doctor released her this morning! Yeah! I’ll be leaving shortly to pick her up.
Prior to surgery yesterday, a friend from my childhood came in the room, knelt between Lori and me, took our hands and said, “I requested to be your nurse for today’s procedure.” She assured Lori that “the best nurse on the floor” would be assisting them as well, the nurse that she had used for her own C-section years back. She went on to tell us about each team member giving care to Lori and how each one was absolutely the best. We had orchestrated none of this. This wonderful friend had done this for us. It was a huge encouragement to Lori just before beginning her procedure.
Lori is in good spirits and misses her home, family and of course the dogs! We could really feel the prayers of friends and family through this. Thank you everyone!
Big Update
So many blogs start out with a bang and then end up with posts apologizing for not posting more frequently. I’ll spare you the same ol’, same ol’ boring shame-speak and tell you why you haven’t heard from me. During the heat of crisis, I was in hero mode. I was able to report on our status and on how we felt about our status. But more recently, it has been harder and harder to stay in touch with our feelings, and certainly to express them.
Last week Lori rang the bell, a celebration ritual performed at the radiation center at Lancaster General when patients are finished with their treatment. After six weeks, Lori won’t miss making that trip but I’m sure the friends that she made at the center will miss her. We were warned that her burnt skin will only get worse through this week and they were right. Imagine your worst sunburn on your chest and armpit, and you’ll understand. All in all she didn’t suffer the fatigue and other symptoms that often go along with radiation therapy, and we attribute that to an aggressive nutritional and wellness regime along with many the prayers of friends and family.
But, on the heels of that drama, Lori goes in for another important surgery tomorrow (Wed), one which she doesn’t feel quite ready for physically or emotionally. She asked me to update this blog to solicit any support I can for her during this time. Admittedly, these are hard times for us.This is another life-changer type surgery, done as a preventative/survival strategy in response to Lori’s genetic mutation/risk for cancers to target her ovaries and uterus.
And, this is the part of the blog where I’m supposed to say how we’re doing well, that our faith is strong and that we’re grateful for all the support we have received. While these things are true, honestly – we feel uncomfortable with all the charity we’ve received (we’re working of getting over that), our faith is more of a “hangin’ on” status (is that the same as “waiting on the Lord?), and we don’t know how we’re doing. That part has gotten too complicated – like balancing an old check book.
I’ll be at the hospital the next two days with Lori and we’d appreciate your thoughts and prayers as we continue down this long road to recovery. These are hard times. Thanks for your love everyone!
The Pink Glove Dance
It started at Providence, St Vincent Hospital when the staff made this “pink glove” video to bring awareness for breast cancer – a devastating disease that now hits one in eight women in the United States.
As this video began spreading, other hospitals and breast cancer survivors put on the gloves and put off their inhibitions to raise awareness for breast cancer. How many more families will suffer before we find a real cure? (Chemo is not a cure). Check out this entertaining sequel and be sure to see the end where they host cancer survivors from various parts of the country shaking it for the cause.
If you’re feelin’ it – please share it! Let’s help this go viral to raise awareness for breast cancer.
We need to see Lancaster General Hospital be doing the Pink Glove Dance, right?
Blessing and Torment
Today, when Lori and I had a business meeting with a recent acquaintance, he learned that Lori went under anesthesia yesterday to have her port removed. With a certain alarm he remarked, “I couldn’t believe you wanted to meet today after you just had that procedure yesterday.” He doesn’t know us.
Deep down, we’re horse people. We’ve learned to live with pain. We’ve ridden with new riding boots that made blisters the size of quarters, taught in the baking sun or freezing cold for hours, taken riding lessons where our knees were bleeding, gotten in a bathtub with open sitting bone sores, jumped off a horse in winter with feet that are really cold (it feels like your feet explode when you land), had horses step on our feet in the winter (words can’t describe), been head butted in the face with a horse going after a fly (would make Billy Graham swear), and of course have accidentally done a groin crush onto the front of the saddle (words can’t describe). Lori has ridden in competitions with food poisoning and I rode a Grand Prix at Dressage at Devon in Hurricane Andrew (while sane people were listening to advisories “don’t leave your home unless it is absolutely necessary.”) Dressage riders pay good money to be publicly humiliated in formal settings (aka horse shows) and Lori and I have our share of stories. But we kept going.
And, we’re not just horse people, we’re horse people with three boys, and we’ve known the pain of parenthood. I’ve had my eye poked by 3-month old David, blinding me for a week. I’ve had my chest hair grabbed by demon possessed infants. Lori has been kept from sleeping for six months consecutively. We’ve had kids turn into poop machines at restaurants, weddings, even prestigious Dressage at Devon forcing us to flee. We’ve been puked on, peed on, pooped on and slobbered on…but we’re still here.
And we’re not just horse people with kids, we are self employed horse people with kids AND own rental properties. We’ve been cheated, stolen from, lied to and provided housing for people who move every year instead of cleaning. OK, I’ll stop before I talk about being an employer.
I’m not sure why we’ve had so many experiences, but I do think that Lori and I have lived an unusual life mix of blessing and torment. Our journey to the land of cancer has been the deepest dive into self discovery however. Our past experiences have made us stronger for parts of this, but nothing could have prepared us for the many emotions and longevity of this unique experience.
We’ve discovered new courage and the power to stop caring too much about temporary problems. We’ve discovered who our friends truly are, and the depth of their affection for us. We’ve learned how and why to care for others in pain; what to say and what to listen for in their answers.
Facebook Group
Converse with others in the We Care for Lori Facebook group.