Me & My Man - Part 8

I gently crawled up on the bed being careful not to disturb any wires or machines and lie down beside him. And that's how we spent the rest of the night - two 19-year olds lying on a hospital bed, scared to death, not knowing what tomorrow held, but firmly in each other's arms...

Part 8: Cancer Sucks

The next several days brought many more tests and doctor's appointments. The biopsy results came back quickly and confirmed our fears - Mr. Wonderful had testicular cancer.

These were probably some of the toughest days of our lives. The uncertainties and statistics were sobering. The medical tests continued, but instead of his blood counts declining now that the cancerous tumor was removed, the counts continued to rise. This could only mean one thing - the cancer had spread and was still attacking his body.

The oncologist at MD Anderson determined through CT scans that Mr. Wonderful had cancerous tumors in the lymph nodes of his abdomen. Because Mr. Wonderful was young and in good shape, the doctor recommended an extremely aggressive chemotherapy regimen. His exact words were something like, "We're going to all but kill you and bring you back to life. There will by days you are so weak that getting up to use the restroom will feel like a day's worth of heavy labor."

We were scared to death. Everyone involved was emotionally on edge. The tears were plentiful, and for some of us (like me) they seemed to be constant and unending. We all spent countless nights with little sleep, kept awake with worry and gut-wrenching fear.

Mr. Wonderful's mom, Jane, was amazing through this all. She stayed so strong for everyone, and she became a powerful advocate for her son. After many questions, research, and phone calls to physicians across the country, Jane felt that the treatment protocol recommended by the oncologist at MD Anderson was unnecessarily aggressive. The Lord faithfully answered all our prayers and brought us to Dr. Amato. He was with Baylor College of Medicine (at Methodist Hospital), but he had just left MD Anderson months before. Beyond that, he was the doctor who developed the chemotherapy protocol that MD Anderson was recommending. Therefore he knew best how it worked and when it was necessary.

Mr. Wonderful and his mom went to see Dr. Amato. He determined that the original chemotherapy regimen recommended by MD Anderson was not necessary, and developed another chemotherapy protocol that he felt was better suited. It was still very aggressive, but not to the same degree. After days and days and days of bad news upon worse news, there was finally a glimmer of hope!

The doctors gave Mr. Wonderful a couple of weeks to recover from his surgery. Thanksgiving fell during that time, and our families got together that year to celebrate over a wonderful meal. That night Mr. Wonderful, his brother Todd, and my brother Adam all shaved their heads. I had the honor of taking the razor to my man's noggin'!



The Monday after Thanksgiving Mr. Wonderful was admitted to Methodist Hospital to begin his first round of chemotherapy. He had a pick line inserted into his left arm. The pick line traveled through his vein beginning just above the bend in his arm up through his bicep, past his shoulder, and down to his heart. The line was necessary to protect his fragile veins from the powerful chemotherapy.

Mr. Wonderful was in the hospital for one week so that the nurses and doctor could closely monitor his body's reaction to the chemicals. The first few days he did quite well, but as the end of the week approached, the side effects began rearing their ugly head. All five of Mr. Wonderful's senses were hyper-stimulated. He hated the lights on. He didn't want a sound to be made in his room - no talking! (Oops, buddy, you picked the wrong girlfriend for that one! Just kidding...I did my best to zip it for him!) He could hardly stand the taste of anything. He did not want anyone to touch him. And strangely enough he could smell almost everything. For example, I colored a picture for him one day and hung it on the wall using medical tape. Grumpy Mr. Wonderful asked me to take the pictures down because he could smell the tape's adhesive! Are you kidding me?!

Mr. Wonderful's mom and I took turns staying with him each night. One night she would sleep on the cot in his room and I would sleep in the chairs in the waiting room. The next night we would switch. Neither of us could bear to leave the hospital, even though we knew the other was there. At the week's end Mr. Wonderful was released, and told he would have two weeks off until his next full week of chemo (well, except for one 24-hour chemo drip each Tuesday).

Mr. Wonderful decided he had no choice but to take medically-based incompletes for the fall semester of classes at A&M. He would reevaluate what to do for the spring semester when the time came. He stayed in Houston, at home with his parents, to continue his treatments. I spent the weeks in Aggieland for my classes, and then came home most every weekend to be with him.

One day I was up at school, and my cell phone started ringing. It was Mr. Wonderful so I immediately answered. I'll never forget that conversation:

Me: "Hey, Babe!"

Mr. Wonderful: "Hey."

Some small talk...blah...blah...

Mr. Wonderful: "Today I went to Champions Forest Baptist to see about getting a membership at their family life center. [This is a pretty large church near our parent's house that has a gym.] I thought that on the days when I was feeling ok it would be nice to go over there and workout. I miss working out at the Rec."

Me: "That was a wonderful idea!" [I so admired and loved how Mr. Wonderful strived to keep a somewhat normal life despite his circumstances.]

Mr. Wonderful: "Well, I was at the church office filling out the paperwork for the membership and something happened."

Me: (My heart dropping.) "Is everything ok? Do you feel ok?"

Mr. Wonderful: "Yea, yea. But I don't think you're going to think I'm very handsome anymore..."