A Place of Desert

A Place of Desert… (Almost) 4 Years Cancer-Free

So, I was trying to think of what I should call this blog, which talks about my experiences both with having colon cancer and with living cancer-free. I read Our Daily Bread (ourdailybread.org) every morning for inspiration and to get me through whatever challenges may come my way. On Saturday, July 11, I read a scripture called “Desert Places.” This post spoke to me, as it summed up my own reality when it said, “But the point of going through a desert, whether literally or figuratively, is to remind us that we are dependent on God to sustain us—a lesson we need to remember even when we’re living in a place of plenty.”

My “place of desert” happened almost four years ago, in August 2011, when I found myself lying in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital cap, gown, and footies, and waiting for surgery to remove cancer from my colon.

Smiling pre-surgery because somehow I knew that, ultimately, I was going to make it through.

I had not spent any time in a hospital bed during my then 49 years of life, other than when I was born and when I was two and had spinal meningitis, which my mother told me about and which I have no recollection of. So, you can only imagine my surprise…

I had been having stomach issues off and on for about eight or nine months before that day. My stomach has always been weak and problematic, so I didn’t pay much attention to it. I would share my stomach issues with a co-worker who had gastrointestinal issues herself and could relate. When I continued to talk about them, she told me to go ahead and get them checked out. This was around May 2011.

As is standard protocol, I first went to see my primary care physician (PCP), who then referred me to a gastrointestinal, or GI, doctor. The GI doctor my PCP referred me to misdiagnosed me, saying after examining me that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I was okay, and that I could go home. I was flabbergasted because the pain I was experiencing at that point was real and becoming more and more severe.

I told my co-worker Janice what had happened, and she gave me the name and phone number of her GI doctor and the GI group she belonged to. When I described my symptoms to the receptionist over the phone at this new group, she immediately secured an appointment for me that very same week with a physician assistant (PA).

The PA conducted a thorough, two-hour consultation with me, asking about my background, my medical history, how I was feeling in general, and so on. Her very first recommendation was that I get a colonoscopy. I have to admit that I was a little nervous about getting a colonoscopy, as I had heard horror stories, mainly about the prep. However, I agreed to it because it felt like I was finally on the right track to getting my health back.

The colonoscopy was scheduled for June 2011, and my father, Jonie B. Hollis, or Jonie B., as we affectionately call him, came with me to act not only as the driver, which is mandatory, but also as a source of support. I followed all the preoperative instructions and cleaned out my “system” the day before with the icky prep, so I felt nauseous and light-headed that morning.

I recall very little of that day. Mostly, I remember the hot liquid burning through my body and counting down from 100. The next thing I knew, I was awake and wondering what all the fuss was about. I imagined being asleep for 30 minutes at most, so I was surprised to find out that I had been under for more than four hours.

After I got dressed in my street clothes, the GI doctor, Dr. Chan, called me into his office and told me that there had been complications and that it appeared I might have colorectal cancer. I was still out of it from the anesthesia, so I did not quite comprehend what he was saying.

When Jonie B. and I got back in the car, I told him what the GI doctor had said, and he seemed not to fully comprehend what I was saying, either. I think he might have been in shock…

The next morning, I called Dr. Chan and asked him if what I had heard the day before was true. He said yes, but that I would need to be scheduled for a CAT scan, which would tell them more. I had the CAT scan a week later, and, just as my GI doctor had suspected, the test came back positive.

My “desert place” had begun…

My immediate thought was, Oh my God, I’m gonna die! Then I thought, Maybe this is all happening for a reason. Maybe I am supposed to go through this so that I can help someone. I clung to that thought because it was more comforting than the first…

It was now July 2011, and I scheduled a presurgery meeting with my surgeon, Dr. Robert Schlessel, who came highly recommended. I told Dr. Schlessel about my vacation plans to take my great-niece, three great-nephews, and niece in a rented minivan to a condo I had rented in Hilton Head, South Carolina, for 10 days. I asked him if he thought it was wise to drive 16 hours one way, considering my diagnosis.

He said, “Absolutely! Go! And when you return, we head straight to surgery!”

I took his advice and, aside from feeling extremely lethargic every single night, had the time of my life in Hilton Head, South Carolina.

Me and my great niece and 3 great nephews on the beach

Enjoying the beautiful beach in Hilton Head, SC 

I returned from Hilton Head, SC, well-rested from the vacation but much thinner because of the abdominal pains, which had worsened, and my inability to keep food down. I met with Dr. Schlessel again, and he told me I was at mid-stage (level 2).

Here is the letter I sent to my co-workers:

Hi everyone,

I met with my surgeon, Dr. Schlessel, today. I liked him instantly. He’s warm, personable, and very down-to-earth. He made my upcoming colon surgery sound like it was going to be a piece of cake, so to speak (smile).

He said that one-third of my colon is damaged and that is what he is going to remove. He is doing this macroscopically, which means that he won’t have to cut me wide open, just make three to four small-hole incisions and an additional tiny (one-inch) incision, which was very comforting. He also said that if my lymph nodes come back negative, which he will not find out until the surgery, I will not need chemotherapy! Please pray that this happens…

Also, he said that since I am so “healthy,” the recovery time will not be as long, nor will I need a colostomy bag (whoo-hoo!). He scheduled me for surgery at Smilow Cancer Hospital at Yale (my choice) on Friday, August 5, at 7:30 a.m. He said that, including surgery, I would be in the hospital for a total of five days. When I am discharged from the hospital, I will be home for a minimum of two weeks, possibly three, and on bed rest.

Before I go in for surgery, I am scheduled to see my primary care physician on July 27 for a cardiogram and some blood work.

That’s the long and short of it. He says that when I’m fully recovered, I should have no more abdominal pain and should be able to start eating normal foods again.

Please keep me in your prayers, and thanks for the pre-prayers!

Love,

Lajeune

Friday, August 5, 2011, the day of surgery, was a blur. My father, Jonie B., was with me, as was my sister Casandra, who is a registered nurse. Surgery was scheduled for 7:30 a.m., but we had to be there an hour and a half earlier to fill out forms, get my vitals taken, and so on, so I was extremely tired and extremely hungry. All food, drinks, and chewing gum were forbidden before surgery.

Despite all that, I felt optimistic. I felt that everything was going to go smoothly, and I would be back to normal and back to work in no time. This was not to be the case…

My surgery was scheduled to last four hours, and not long after I was under, there were complications. Apparently, the cancer, now the size of a baseball, had spread from my colon to my uterus and ovaries.

My surgeon immediately sounded the “alarm” to let my sister and father know that something had gone wrong and that he was coming in to talk with them. My sister, being a registered nurse, knew there was a problem when the lights flickered, so she asked my father to brace himself for some not-so-good news.

When Dr. Schlessel arrived in the waiting room, he explained that the cancer had spread to my uterus and ovaries. With this new development, he would need their permission to allow his friend, an OB-GYN doctor, to perform a total hysterectomy. Then he would go in afterward and surgically remove one-third of my colon.

God was with me all morning long because Dr. Schlessel’s OB-GYN friend, Dr. Thomas J. Rutherford, was not scheduled to be in the hospital at all that day and just happened to come in that morning…

Dr. Schlessel asked Dr. Rutherford if he could scrub up, get a team together as quickly as possible, and perform the much-needed surgery. Dr. Rutherford agreed, went first, and then Dr. Schlessel and his team went in afterward to surgically, rather than macroscopically, remove one-third of my colon. This was all done within the same four-hour time frame originally scheduled for my surgery.

I woke up weak and sore. Dr. Schlessel immediately gave me the updated news. He also informed me that because the cancer had spread, I was strongly advised to undergo chemotherapy after my now much longer recovery.

I started to feel despair. Why was this happening to me? Here I was, 49 years of age, had never had children, and now I never would!… Then I snapped out of it and thought, You weren’t going to have children anyway. You are 49 years old… Be thankful and blessed that you were able to have these two surgeries now instead of having them close you up after one surgery, only to discover that there was more cancer. Then you would have to come back in, go under the knife again, and start all over…

I had a single, private room at Yale Smilow Cancer Hospital with a lovely view of the city. Thank God for good company insurance because, as you can imagine, none of this came cheap!

I also did not realize that Yale was a teaching hospital, as I did not sleep a wink for five days. I was constantly being awakened at all times of the day and night to be examined by a head physician and his group of medical students in training, not to mention being woken up by nurses to change the fluids on my IV machine, take medications, answer questions, meet with my surgeon, and so on.

I felt no physical pain whatsoever because I was on a morphine drip the entire time. And I had a ton of visitors. So many that my Director of Sales at WTNH News 8, Roger Hess, asked the sales team and other employees to stop visiting because my body needed rest to heal…

I also received so many cards, flowers, magazines, and gifts! I had never felt so much love in all my life. I was overwhelmed by the acts of kindness from my family members, friends, clients, church family, gym family, and work family.

The window sill of my private room with a view. Filled with bouquets of flowers and single flowers. 

Life was good until I found out I could not leave the hospital as scheduled on Wednesday morning until I learned to walk. I had been in the hospital for maybe two days when they told me I needed to walk a few laps around my floor. At this point, I had neither the energy nor the desire to walk. I was having a hard enough time wrapping my head around the fact that I could not walk.

What motivated me, though, was knowing that if I walked, I could go home. So, I started out slowly and somehow managed, over the next few days, to walk again…

Walking again with help from one of the many oncology nurses, who quickly became my “friends,” as well as the aid of the IV machine.

So, I walked again—slowly, gingerly, hesitatingly, but well enough to get out. I also managed, with the help of anti-constipation pills, to “go again,” as the medications I was on were causing me a ton of problems.

Being at home for the next five weeks was nice. It was summertime, so I could lounge outside on my lawn chair, play with my dogs, read lots of books, and soak up the sun. I got a ton of phone calls, get-well cards, packages, and visitors (family, friends, clients, co-workers, and church family) spreading cheer and bringing me hot and cold prepared dishes, healthy snacks, flowers, and all kinds of gifts.

I even received a healing blanket and special prayers from Deacon Annie and other friends from my church, Christian Tabernacle Baptist Church, who came to my house one afternoon to pray over me.

Lots of fruit baskets too! 

So many flowers, cards, and gifts that I could not eat off my kitchen table!

I was surprised at how little I could do during the first few weeks at home. I had stairs in my house, so I would climb them on all fours if I had to get something from upstairs. Plus, I could barely drive, so I relied on Jonie B. to take me to doctors’ appointments and my sister Casandra to help me pick up medications, buy groceries, and get small items until I felt comfortable enough and was cleared to get back behind the wheel.

Jonie B.

As the weeks went by, my body began to heal very quickly. I was told that the recovery time from one major surgery alone was four to six weeks, and here I was, recovering from two major surgeries in what turned out to be just one five-week span. When I was in the hospital, Dr. Schlessel told me that in all his 30 years of performing colorectal surgeries, he had never seen anyone heal as quickly as I did. He looked at me as if I were a miracle, and I was his poster child for colorectal cancer.

I went back to work on Monday, September 12, 2011. Ironically, it was the birth date of my late mother, Jean…

I actually looked forward to going back to work because, at that point, I was looking for some type of normalcy in my life, and I also missed my co-workers. My first day back was awesome because they decorated my cubicle and threw a huge welcome-back breakfast for me, complete with dairy-free milk and food. 

Back to work!

Also, I did not have to worry about lunches for a while because three of my co-workers, Michele, Kate, and Jocelyn, took turns cooking healthy, clean dishes for me.

At the end of my first week back to work, I had my first client function to attend: the annual Easter Seals Lobster Bake at Lighthouse Park, which I attended with our then-My TV 9 star, Brittany Decker.

Me and Brittany 

Me on the carousel at Lighthouse Park 

Going back to work also meant that my body had healed sufficiently to bring me closer to my next challenge: chemotherapy. But first, I had to go back to the hospital for surgery.

I returned to Smilow for same-day surgery at the end of my second week back to work to have a portable catheter (or “port o’ cat”) inserted on the left side of my chest. Dr. Schlessel recommended this so that when I received my chemotherapy treatments and regular blood work, I wouldn’t have to worry about being constantly pinned and needled like a sewing cushion.

It still hurt, though, even with the use of the “port o’ cat,” as he had me scheduled for 12 chemotherapy treatments every other week for six months. I would go to what was then the Father McGivney Center for Cancer Care at St. Raphael’s Hospital on a Tuesday of the first week, be hooked up to an IV machine, and receive various cancer treatments intravenously for a few hours.

I had initially asked my oncologist, Dr. Tara, if these cancer treatments would make my hair fall out. He told me that colon cancer treatments typically did not have those side effects, which I was very happy to hear.

Then the oncology nurses, who, by the way, were all wonderful, would unhook me from the IV machine so that the remainder of the cancer treatments could be administered through my “port o’ cat,” which connected to my “chemo-to-go” unit. It was small enough to fit into a fanny pack.

I was able to go back to work and wear this “mobile” unit in a fanny pack for the next two days (48 hours), until the beeps signaled that it was time to return to the hospital. The “forced-fed” chemo completely killed my appetite for food and drink because everything tasted like tin. The unit also made it hard for me to sleep, as I could lie on only one side all night because I was afraid of rolling over on top of it…

I could never take showers, only baths, and had to be very careful not to get the machine wet during the “on weeks.” Back at the hospital on a Thursday afternoon, the oncology nurses would unhook me from the mobile unit, and I would be free of any more infusions for a week and a half. But then it would all start over again…

Since the treatments were cumulative, I began to get weaker and weaker and have less and less energy each month. My oncologist, Dr. Harold Tara, was excellent throughout the whole ordeal. He came highly recommended by my surgeon, Dr. Schlessel, who felt he would suit my personality. He was right. Dr. Tara was a hoot! He made me laugh when he could clearly see that the physical and emotional effects of chemo were starting to wear me down.

Not to mention that I was cold all the time, particularly in my hands, as neuropathy had set in. One of my co-workers took it upon herself to buy me my first pair of fingerless gloves. From there, I received fashionable fingerless gloves from many caring family members and friends (smile).

I was able to work throughout treatment only by the grace of God, as my career required me to meet face-to-face with prospective and regular clients, which was hard to do when I was on a “chemo week” and starting to experience “chemo-fogged brain.” I kept my game face on and made the best of it…

Here’s a pix of me with an old friend at a client function successfully hiding my fanny pack on my left hand shoulder 

Life had certainly thrown me lemons, but unbeknownst to me, my News 8 co-workers had taken notice of what one of them called my “grace under pressure” moment. They all decided to vote for me for the upcoming News 8 and LIN TV Circle of Excellence program.

This is a program that LIN TV has in place at all its TV stations around the country to recognize two individuals per station who exemplify LIN’s idea of what a model employee should be. I was consequently voted in, along with my good friend and WTNH meteorologist Gil Simmons, as a News 8 and LIN TV Employee of the Year!

So, what had started as a not-so-good year turned into something positive. The grand prize was an all-expenses-paid trip for two to Playa del Carmen, Mexico, to an all-inclusive spa resort! I received the good news in December 2011 at our annual company Christmas party. My sister Casandra was my “date” for the night, and it was fitting that she was there to witness me receiving this “gift” from my co-workers, as she was the person I decided to bring with me.

Coming back to my table after receiving the good news! 

Still pinching myself as I read the special letter 

Deciding, on the spot, that I will invite my sister Casandra to be my guest to the upcoming March of 2012 Circle of Excellence Mexican spa vacation! 

We actually went on the COE trip in late March 2012. By then, I had completed all 12 of my treatments, so I was thin as a rail and susceptible to catching all kinds of germs, but I was determined to have a good time.

Mexico is always a good time, but this resort was extra special because it was a spa hotel resort. Upon arrival, I immediately signed up for two different sessions: a hair wash and set and a full-body chocolate massage. The full-body chocolate massage was a heavenly experience.

I also enjoyed our beautiful room, which included a Jacuzzi tub. I enjoyed the nearby lovely beach, the multiple pools, which were spectacular, and the nights out at à la carte restaurants featuring ethnic cuisine.

Thin as a rail but enjoying the nearby beaches 

They made sure that all our needs were met and then some. Our last night there was the actual Circle of Excellence awards ceremony, which was truly special. I will never forget this trip…

COE Awards Night

Wonderful night

Good time with Gil and his beautiful wife Liz

So, all in all, although this has been a bumpy ride, I believe it was a ride I was destined to take. I learned so much more about my own life and the people I choose to have in it. I became closer to some family members because of what I went through, and I also relearned the true meaning of compassion.

I directly saw how people really felt about me through their acts of kindness. The old saying that you really do not know who your friends are until you are laid up in the hospital was absolutely true in my case.

And I do believe that life is a gift. I know this for a fact because I would not be alive today were it not for God’s good grace and mercy on me. Amen.

Sincerely,

TVFL

https://lajeunehollis.com/a-place-of-desert-almost-4-years-cancer-free/