You Have A Spot

So it’s been a while since I wrote a blog post. That’s partly because I’ve been finishing Screwing Up Alexandria (I’m proofreading right now). And it’s partly because of “spots.”

At the end of March, my husband Calvin got sick. We even got a trip to ER out of it. And if you’re sick enough, you don’t have to wait. To make a long story short, they ended up running a CT scan. They didn’t find what they were looking for. Instead, they found “spots.” Most were on the liver. One was not. It was on the pancreas. It was concerning.

They ran a “multi-phasic pancreatic CT.” The results of the CT were “suspicious.” The move from concerning to suspicious was not a good thing. We have friends who died from pancreatic cancer. Gallows humor became prevalent in our home. One night, Cal said, “Don’t worry about me.” I said, “Sweetie, I love you. But if you die, you go to heaven. And I’m stuck here with four kids and a mortgage. I’m worried about me.” (Okay, two kids are grown and on their own. But still.)

Next came an endoscopic ultrasound with fine needle aspiration. Basically, they put a camera, an ultrasound wand, and a cutting mechanism down his throat. (Yes, he was asleep.) They drew fluid from the cyst. And then, we waited ten days.

Anytime you look a bad diagnosis in the face, it causes you to think. I’m trusting that whatever happens, God will give me strength to deal with it. He’s been faithful to me through dark days in the past, and He doesn’t change.

And the results of the EU were inconclusive…and the results were benign. A good thing. Sort of. The doctor said that at this small size any tumor would be benign. They don’t go bad until they’re bigger. We did narrow it down to one of two types of cysts. One kind stays benign. The other becomes cancer. Yeah, not much help. Now, we wait. In six months, we restart the process to see if the cyst has grown.

In the meantime, the doctors are running other tests because as they were tracking down the pancreatic cyst, they found other things wrong with Calvin. Sigh. And we’re waiting for the bills to descend.

But I’m happy and thankful. I feel like we’ve been given six more months. And I have new-eat-healthy ammunition. “Calvin, do you think a chocolate-covered, caramel-dipped ice cream bar is good for your pancreas?” He responds, “If I do end up getting diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I’m eating all the ice cream and cheese want.”