My wife, Becky, and I recently returned from a fantabulous 3-week vacation in Scotland. This was one of our bucket list trips… and yes, there are plenty more to come.
But two months prior to this trip, we began an unexpected and unwanted journey.
I know many have been through this type of ordeal and I want to stress that not all outcomes were like ours. I’ve always known that there are no guarantees in life, but this journey hit a little too close to home.
The Timeline
November 2022 – we began planning our trip to Scotland.
March 21 – we celebrated our 42nd wedding anniversary.
March 22 – we celebrate (again) with long-time friends whose anniversary is on March 22.
March 23 – we take a trip to the ER: Becky has pain in the lower right abdomen. Thinking appendicitis or gallstones. However, the doctors report: “I’ve got some bad news: you have a 3-inch mass located in the area of your cecum” (where the small intestines meet the large intestines). This was one of those “Oh shit!” moments.
March 28 – meeting with the oncologist surgeon. Surgery scheduled for April 20. Plan to cut it out and resect the colon. Unsure if it’s colon cancer at this time. Becky’s dad was a surgeon in Miami. His philosophy was, “when in doubt, cut it out.” We ask the surgeon, “Should we postpone our trip to Scotland, beginning June 1?” Dr: “Absolutely not. I see no reason why you cannot go. You’ll have 6 weeks to recover after surgery.”
April 20 – major 2½-hour surgery (robot-assisted) to remove 4 inches of colon, including the mass, lymph nodes, etc.
April 21 – Becky walks out of the hospital with minimal pain. Let me repeat that. A little more than 24 hours after major surgery, my wife WALKS out of the hospital, and we come home.
May 2 – Surgeon reports: “Appendix cancer, but very rare. All lymph nodes are clear. Referral to oncologist for next steps.”
May 22 – Oncologist: “I do not recommend any further treatments at this time. With this type of Stage 1 cancer, the treatments would not do anything for you. We’ll monitor you over the next few years.”
Let me pause here and tell you what a load had been lifted from our shoulders.
June 1 – Leave for a 3-week vacation in Scotland.
That 2-month Blur
I won’t go into details here, but I wanted to mention that the time from the initial report (“you have a mass”) through the surgery and after the oncologist report (“no chemo needed”), those two months were, and still remain, a blur.
There were times when I went down a dark path, not knowing what the future would hold. There were times when I went through those mental checklists that no one should have to think about. And then, there were those times (many of them) where family and friends called, emailed, phoned, texted, that we were both lifted up by their spirits and their prayers.
I’m a pretty religious guy… more than just going to church on Sunday. There are times when someone asks for prayers, and I spend a little quiet time praying. There are times when I’m thankful for all the blessings we have.
But I’ll be honest with you… being on the receiving end of those prayers and support was one thing that helped me get through those dark times. Thank the good Lord there weren’t many of them, but they’re there.
Scotland
Besides being a wonderful country to visit (with great Scotch, by the way), our small group 12-day tour (total of 4, plus the driver/guide) put about 1,400 miles on the van. Highlands, Isle of Sky, Outer Hebrides, Orkneys, and more mainland Scotland… all varying in culture, landscape, and terrain. Becky & I also tacked a few days before and after the tour to spend in Edinburgh & Glasgow.
As I mentioned before, it was fantabulous. One thing we did the first few days… we bought a post card and mailed it to the surgeon. “Just wanted to say, ‘We made it. Hi from Scotland’ and thank you for everything.”
When the tour was winding down, the driver/guide (Alan) asked us what we liked best about the tour. I think all tour guides ask that question, both for the company (Best Scottish Tours) as well as how they personally did. When it was my turn, I could only think of one thing: “I’m just happy we were able to be here.”
A Different View on Life
In the 90s, there was a term used in the business industries to explain how one’s thought process or “model” changed. It was called a “Paradigm Shift.” It’s not used as often these days—I’m sure there’s a replacement term. But that always stuck with me, because in my time during the Navy, followed by being a city firefighter, followed by my career as a legal technology consultant, I’ve personally experienced many “paradigm shifts.”
But this one, this “cancer journey,” as I call it, scared the bejesus out of me. Both my wife and I are not afraid of dying. We’re at that age (68) where we’ve lived a great life and know we’re on the downhill slope. We’ve both witnessed death in our professions, as well as our parents and kin. One of those dark paths I wandered down is “what am I going to do without Becky… without my best friend… without my lifelong soul mate?” That’s what scared me the most. Fortunately, I don’t have that thought anymore, not today anyway.
So, this trip to Scotland was more than just a bucket list trip. It was a chance to renew ourselves after an arduous journey.
I know many people have been on this journey and many have lost loved ones. In fact, while we were in Scotland, I received notice of two friends/acquaintances who lost their soulmates.
A recent quote from Michael Altshuler that hit home: “The bad news is that time flies. The good news is that you’re the pilot.”
Life is short. As we used to say in the Navy… “Live the dream, baby. It’s an adventure.”
Until we meet again,
Andy
Photo credit: Alan Gillespie
Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books, including You Can’t Get Much Closer Than This-Combat with the 80th “Blue Ridge” Division in World War II Europe, published by Casemate Publishers (2005) and selected as the Book of the Month for the Military Book Club. His newest novel, NEVER FORGET, is the story of A Vietnam Veteran’s Journey for Redemption & Forgiveness; NEVER FORGET is offered as a FREE (PDF, eBook format) download. Adkins also writes a weekly blog, “A Veteran’s Journey.”
Loved this, Andy. Thanks for sharing your journey!
Thanks, Jan. I wasn’t sure I wanted to share this one, but there are so many that have been down this road. It helped me to put my thoughts down.
Andy and Becky – so sorry to hear about your ordeal but so happy that it has turned out so well. I had the same two month roller coaster battle in late 2021/early 2022 with a surprise colon cancer diagnosis. Never knew what being in limbo meant, but this was it. A fantastic surgeon here in KC performed robotic surgery and I walked out less than 48 hours later. Prayer does work, as does support from family. Glad you enjoyed Scotland!
Cheers – Bill
Wow, Bill. It is a scary ride. The advances in robotic surgery are phenomenal. Your term, ‘limbo,’ is a perfect definition of what it feels like. It is a blur. But we are so glad you’re on the other side of the ride. Blessings to you and your family.
Thanks for sharing that, Andy. So harrowing but so glad for the outcome. So many times when one expresses their concern and offers prayers one thinks “it’s not enough but what else can I do to help?” It’s so good to see that it IS enough and that just the words, heartfelt concern and prayers gave you some peace.
Thank you, Beck. You’re right, the prayers and support helped us both through this. I feel like we are “back” into the daily routines.
Love to the both of you!
MAT
Thank you, Merrilyn. We’re planning more trips in the future.