Reflections2017

I am thinking of the popular song Those Eyes sung by Pamela Lillard as I write this Reflection today.  This may seem too obvious but human contact is the "heart and soul" of the healthcare team. Patients would not easily get well without it. The technology is awe-inspiring. There is no question that the protocols and training facilitate wellness. But it is the human contact that brings it all together.  The people in the healthcare system know that. I will give two examples and expand on the second.   The first happened in pre-op with the anesthesiologist. I refer you to the Reflection 10 (The drug doctor). She certainly knew the importance of and practiced eye contact to ease me into a comfort zone.    The second occasion happened following my surgery. It was early morning about 10 hours following the operation. I had put in a question regarding my health care insurance coverage (from the Canadian Army). The head nurse on that particular shift paid me a visit. I asked him.

In Part 1, I explain how it is that you have this very noticeable feeling that you have met the stranger in a room before, but cannot remember where or under what circumstances. In fact, you have: in another dimension. If you take the time to get to know the individual, you will discover that many of your likes and dislikes are either very similar or the same. You have the same preference for particular colours, same type of food, music, musical instruments and so on.  In this Part, I will describe how my twin turned into my guardian angel following my surgery. After my 9-hour operation, it is easily understood that I was enveloped inside a heavy fog of antiseptics and other drugs for a long time in order to ease my pain and bring me back to reality. In this fog I first saw my angel in the very early morning hours of what I now calculate to be Saturday. Perhaps it was 4 or 4:30 a.m. I really don't know. The ward was still. I suspect that most if not all of the inpatients were sleep

 "It is again a strong proof of men knowing most things before birth, that when mere children they grasp innumerable facts with such speed as to show that they are not then taking in for the first time, but remembering and recalling them." Marcus Tullius Cicero *** 2 June at ?? p.m. Recovery Room  A loud female voice pierced the anesthetic fog, "Sun...SUN, are you awake? It is time for you to join us again. You have been sleeping long enough! I gave you an extra 10 minutes." Mumble...mumble...mutter. "Are you awake? Tell me your name!" "Wukong."  "Wukong?" "Yes, you keep calling me Sun. But Sun is my family name. My given name is Wukong. Chinese tradition is to put the family name first out of respect for ancestors." "Thank you for the clarification. Are you awake Wukong?" "I am now." "Thank you." With that I was again allowed the comfort of sleep. Perhaps it was the anesthetic fog that

We found ourselves lined up in a queue of gurneys, one behind the other, silently facing an open double-doorway. What seemed like a moment or two later our queue began to slowly move toward and through the doorway, as if in a kind of slow-motion dream march. Six or seven gurneys in all. Each supporting an inpatient with a story to tell. Nobody spoke. We disappeared into a hallway. Doors were open on both the right and the left. There was a large white sign with a black number sticking out from the wall above the door. Number 1…2…3 and so on. I do remember being told in pre-op that there were 9 operating rooms because I asked. At our assigned number that I cannot recall, we turned left into the operating room. *** Once inside of the operating room, the health care workers took no time to move me from the gurney to the operating table (by design). Did I experience fear? No. Apprehension? A little. Relief is the best descriptive word. I was simply relieved that we were finally moving forw

2 June 2017 07:00 a.m.  I was told prior to the operation that there will be 10 health care professionals in surgery at any one time. I was able to see some. They introduced themselves. The balance were beyond my sightline. (And by design, so were all of the instruments that the team would be using.) I have difficulty remembering any of their faces, except for my doctor, my surgeon who gave me a thumb up after I gave him one just prior to being put to sleep.   The one person who I shall never forget is the drug doctor, my anesthesiologist. Without realizing it at the time this health care professional became my lifeline, my human contact. She was the closest to me just prior to going under the influence of the administered drugs that put me to sleep for 10 hours. Our face-to-face encounter was just so meaningful.  We first met in pre-op. The first thing I noticed about her was her welcoming personality. She asked me many questions to clarified in her mind points contained in my fi

​A desire to tell one's story is a powerful drive in people. It is right up there with eating, sleeping and the the sex drive! Examples go back to the very beginning of Western civilization (and I suppose Eastern civilization as well, although I am not familiar enough with the east to cite examples). In the oral tradition, the blind poet Homer told the story to whoever would listen to his version of the Trojan War and the return home in the Greek epic poems Iliad and Odyssey in the 8th century BC. In the same tradition, Jesus of Nazareth told his short moral stories or parables to the gathering crowds.  Telling the story satisfies both the author's need to verbalize it and the listener, to be entertained and informed.   This desire to 'get things off of one's chest' as it were can also be found in Act 5 Scene 2 of William Shakespeare's The Tragedy of Hamlet: Prince of Denmark (1597). In this scene, Hamlet instructs Horatio (his confidant) to tell his story

It was not long after the day surgery (about a month) when a lump appeared behind my right ear. Like the previous lump that was in front of my ear, it too grew quite rapidly and became "quite a size," to quote a friend. Back to CancerCare Manitoba I went. A biopsy was quickly ordered.   It turned out to be cancer...the same type that was removed from the front of my ear.   I began to call it my "quail egg" because that is about the size it grew...in no time at all. I was beginning to think that it would explode! I couldn't sleep on my right side for fear of crushing it. I began the nightly ritual of propping pillows up so that I could not roll over on that side. (I continued the practice following my surgery on 2 June, but for an altogether different reason. My wound would not tolerate me sleeping on the right side.)   From the time of the appearance of the ‘quail egg,' until the surgery, I was subjected to a very thorough medical protocol. One, I am sure wa

WHOSE BODY IS IT ANYWAY? How dare you! How dare you invade my space Unbeknown to me you sneak in  Like a coward Destroying my healthy cells Destroying my healthy cells. Day after day Night after night You go about your sinister work While unknown to me I go about my ordinary business Of living Of living. While you are not going to get away with it. You, you only have the code to destroy But I have the smarts in this conflict I am in control I am in control. You might think that you have the upper hand; so Bring on the bad days Bring on the doubt and anxiety Bring on the depression Bring on the uncertainty  Use all of the tactics and strategies that you can muster It matters not For you are not going to win For you are not going to win. I have made a conscious decision Whose body is it anyway? Mine...and I have decided That I will win That I will win!

 Illusion is a human defence mechanism. It is an escape mechanism that the mind uses when reality is just too much too bear, like a shower that is simply too cold. Illusion is comfortable. The hard questions do not have to be asked or answers heard. My mind invented and convinced me what my medical condition was: streptococcus. A bacteria. Something that can be dealt with and then forgotten. That is what I told anyone who asked.  But it wasn't. That is a falsehood. That comfortable solution proved to be a invention.  It was melanoma. 

 The gravity of the situation still had not dawned on me because I really did not know that I had cancer. I was afraid to ask and my medical team assumed that "someone" had briefed me. I was under the illusion that I had some sort of a bacterial infection.   The surgery took a little over an hour. I was awake for the whole thing. The doctor removed the tumour and put a skin patch in its place. The theory was that the patch would hold up the ear since much of the cartilage had to be removed along with the cancer. I am saying "tumour" and "cancer" with no knowledge of that is what it was. The doctor didn't specify and I didn't  ask. Fear? Preoccupation? A little of both perhaps.  Well, the ear drooped and became pointed. I began calling it my alien ear.   I was not worried about it. The doctor said that once it was healed they could make it look like a normal ear. And my infliction was gone!  Or so my medical team and I thought.

A bacterial infection?          Yes, I remember it well. While watching television shortly after supper, I recall an itch on the upper part of my right ear. Following my scratching, two things happened: 1) the itch went away; and 2) a sore appeared on the surface of the skin. No big deal, I thought, it must be a bacterial infection.          The next day it was still there...bigger.          After about a week, it caused me enough concern to cause me to seek medical advice at the local walk-in clinic.             "How long have you had it? The duty MD asked.             "About a week," I responded.             "You should have come in sooner!"             "But it has only been as short time. It grew so fast!"              I concluded that perhaps the attending physician slept through the lecture on bedside manners. Or, perhaps he was simply having a bad morning.             I was hustled off to my skin d

Before 2 June 2017 My name is Sun Wukong1592 (nom de plume) and I am a cancer survivor. I am responsible for writing and publishing this blog, Reflections2017 . The aim of Reflections is to write a running commentary on my journey through the diagnosis, operation and aftermath of head and neck cancer. For the general reader, I hope that you find my reflections perceptive. For readers who are going through cancer, I hope that you find the information comforting and are left with the thought that you are not alone . In fact, we can all identify with your feelings; your family, friends and the healthcare team.  For all readers, I hope that you will come to the conclusion that the blogs are informative. Each Reflection is in the form of a snippet that can be read rather quickly. Research suggests that this is a convenient way to convey ideas.  Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Thank you.               With warmest regards, Sun Wukong1592 e-mail: maywedialogue@gmail.com