Surgery

The next two days I was a mess, as was Erik I'm sure. He did his best to keep his composure in front of me, but I knew he was probably a wreck inside. On Sunday, I asked him to give me a blessing as we geared up for more tests and surgery later that week. To be honest, after the blessing I didn't feel much comfort. I was worried. I remember him saying that "in time I would be well". I zeroed in on the words "in time" and wondered what that meant. Was the surgery not going to work entirely? Was I going to have to go through chemo or radiation? A whole slew of thoughts entered my mind.

Monday morning, Erik and I went to the imaging center for my CT scan and MRI. Basically, they wanted these tests done to see if it had spread. Both of us were a disaster; we were so nervous. We went back into the room and asked them a few questions. They told Erik he had to leave the room, which I could tell he did not want to do. The imaging technician said that if things looked good on the MRI, then I would go directly in for the CT scan, but that if something looked a little off, I'd need to do it again. I got on the table and felt like I was being prepared for burial. She wrapped me up in towels and sheets, put ear plugs in my ears, and then covered my eyes. It was a very strange feeling. I laid there listening to the loud beeping sounds for about thirty minutes with tears streaming down my face, yet trying to remain as still as possible. I have never feared the unknown so badly before.

A half an hour later, the MRI was complete and the results looked good. My brain was fine. Next was the CT scan, which went exactly like the last one. Afterwards, we waited for a few minutes until the radiologist was able to speak to us about the results. This was not routine, but they knew we were such a mess and wanted answers. We went back to his office and felt like we got some good news. In his opinion, the tumor didn't look cancerous. Erik and I were overjoyed to hear something positive, even though it wasn't for sure.

Now we had the rest of the week to prepare for my surgery, which was scheduled for Friday (November 22nd). That week we prayed and prayed and prayed. Erik and I drew closer than we ever were before. I began reading the scriptures again on a regular basis, which is something I struggle finding the time for. I happened upon a chapter in Moroni that brought me much peace:

"Pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ". (Moroni 7:48) "My beloved (daughter, Tanya), I rejoice exceedingly that your Lord Jesus Christ hath been mindful of you...I am mindful of you always in my prayers, continually praying unto God the Father in the name of his Holy Child, Jesus, that he, through his infinite goodness and grace, will keep you through the endurance of faith on his name to the end." (Moroni 8:2&3). 

Later that week, my sister drove up from Las Vegas to help me prepare for surgery. I told her many times that she didn't need to come, but she insisted. I was very grateful. Having her there was such a blessing. I will always love her for her generous and kind heart.

Thursday afternoon I went to the hospital to register as instructed by my doctor. It was a bunch of waiting around, filling out paperwork and more blood draws. The most uncomfortable part was being asked if I had a living will. As if I didn't know the seriousness of what was going on, being asked that question made it even more depressing.

That night I couldn't sleep. I was scared out of my mind.

The next day (Friday, November 22nd), we drove back to the hospital for surgery. When they were preparing me for the IV's, I remember listening to all of the voices around us. I could tell they were all old people. I kept thinking, how can I possibly be here? I'm so young! Moments later I said my goodbyes to Erik and prayed for the best. They wheeled me back into the operating room and as I entered, I thought "this looks exactly like on TV". Equipment everywhere and nurses standing there waiting for me to arrive. I remember seeing a male nurse sitting there as I entered the room (more on that later). One of the nurses asked me to move onto the operating table (which was ridiculously small). As I moved, I said to him, "you guys must see some pretty gross stuff in here". And then I was out.