While Nick was finishing up his last year at Temple University and Joe was living the hockey dream in Bradford, Ontario, I was contemplating life without Dr. Dave. My annual appointment to check my blood counts was coming up and I would be heading downtown for what was going to be my last appointment, most likely, with the man that saved my life. The situation at Hahnemann Hospital was tenuous at best. Their parent company, Tenet Healthcare, was in negotiation to sell the site and the hospital would likely be no more. A sad situation, not only for the multitude of employees, but the neighborhood too. Dr. Dave would be heading to the Cancer Centers of America hospital across the city with his partner Dr. Pam Crilly. They would be opening their own Bone Marrow Transplant center at that location. Unfortunately, CCA doesn’t take many insurance plans, including mine. It would be a sad day after so much had transpired between us to have to say goodbye. The appointment was uneventful though as I went through the usual blood draws, exam by the Oncology Residents and rehash of the past year with the nurses. KEENAN!! Dr. Dave’s usual entrance shout pierced the hallway as he entered the exam room. We reminisced about our journey and talked about the present, the boys, Lori and my work. I was sure going to miss him. He told me to call his new office for any reason and gave me the number. Twenty one years, side by side, we conquered the beast called CML. He would call the next week to let me know the good news. “All clear bud”, “Don’t be a stranger”. “Thanks Doc”….”For Everything”.
I cruised into the summer working hard and spending some time down at the shore. Lori would head down to LBI for extended periods of time and I would join her on the weekends. My dad used to do the same thing back in the day. A big problem with being on Chemo drugs for any extended period of time though are the lingering side effects. After taking Gleevec for so long, I had my share. Fatigue, water weight gain, bone pain and GI issues. One of the worst recurring problems that I had since I began taking the drug was… Hemorrhoids. Sometimes they were there and sometimes not. At this moment it was terrible. A Tuesday night in August, I was home alone and the pain was excruciating. By three AM, I couldn’t bear it anymore. Barely able to sit, I drove myself to Doylestown Hospital, about a ten minute ride from the house. The nurses at the front triage desk could see the amount of distress that I was in and expedited my admission sending me straight back to a room. When the doctor finally came in and examined me, the swelling inside my rectum had gotten so extreme that he needed to handle it immediately. There were two internal hemorrhoids that needed to be relieved, lanced, to alleviate the pressure. Huge blood filled vessels, like balloons waiting to be popped. This wasn’t my first trip for this issue. Two other times, external hemorrhoids had taken me to Doylestown Hospital for relief and lancing. They didn’t even come close to the situation at hand. The ER doctor grabbed his scalpel and went in to handle the problem. It didn’t go well. The hemorrhoids bled uncontrollablly. The doctor and nurses tried unsuccessfuly to pack the area with gauze and whatever else they could to stem the red tide. As the blood pooled under my body and up to my chest. I thought that I was in real danger once again. The doctor seemed to be panicking as the nurses feverishly worked to stem the bleeding. Finally, the GI surgeon on call flew in and handled the situation. Thank God! He then had me admitted to a room and told me that he would have to operate and remove the hemorrhoids. If not, they would return worse in the near future.
It was now around seven AM Wednesday morning and I was just settling in to my hospital room. Pain meds coursed through the IV in my arm, leaving me loopy, and Lor was on her way. The surgery would be on Friday morning with an additional overnight stay. It was not a fun surgery, as I was told by the nurses taking care of me. “No shit”. Literally.
Next Up: Under the Knife