NOTE: The reactions are many when a person receives the diagnosis that they have 'become' a cancer patient. As in many of life's turning points, we are thrust into situations that we did not ask for, were not prepared for, and do not quite know how to deal with. ALL of these things come into play in the life of the newly diagnosed.
Chapter 9: What the hell did I do?
BACK IN THE DOCTORS OFFICE...
When he finally came too, Reg saw Dr. Warfel and two nurses hovering him, the sharp pang of Ammonia digging a hole in his head.
"Mr. Ularguy... Mr. Ularguy, it's o.k. You fainted.", Dr. Warfel said his strong hands on Reg's shoulders, helping him to sit up along the wall.
"Oh, man...Oh, man..." is all Reg could come up with.
"It happens sometimes, Reg. When people find out they have cancer, it sometimes hits them all of a sudden like this." Warfel said as he and nurse blue-lips helped him up into the patient chair.
"Just to be sure we are going to get a set of vitals on you. Just hang in there." the doctor added. He collected his file and stood at the door. "I will make an appointment for next week and we can sit down and put a treatment plan."
The doctor reached into a pocket of his lab coat and pulled out an an orange bottle, popped open the lid and deftly poured out two red and blue capsules. He handed them to Reg with a little paper cup of water he drew from the nearby sink.
"Here. Take these, they will help with the dizziness you feel."
With a quick tip of his head, Reg took the capsules, drank the tepid water, crushed the cup and tossed into the wastebasket in the corner.
"Swish!" Reg thought to himself. "The first damn thing that has gone right in days..."
Dr. Warfel handed the bottler to Reg, "Take the other two tonight, before bed."
"O.K., Doc." Reg replied. Strange, Reg noted that the bottle only had only his name, the date and '4-capsules' typed on it. He shrugged off the oddity and dropped the bottle into the pocket of his Borelli shirt.
Reg tried to get his head to clear as blue-lips pumped up the blood pressure cuff.
"Jesus. Cancer. What the hell did I do to deserve this?" he muttered.
The rrrrip of the velcro brought him back to the present.
"Every thing is fine, Mr. Ularguy.", blue lips stated, as if the fainting patient had ruined her otherwise exciting afternoon of sitting at the desk, answering the phone and sipping her slurpee.
"Be sure to stop at the desk to get your appointment for next week." she said as she quickly slipped out the door.
In even more of a daze than when he passed out, Reg rose, slipped on his Armani jacket, left the clinic, hopped in the Porsche, slipped through the late afternoon traffic, arrived home and parked the Porsche in the driveway. He felt as if his body had been on autopilot, if someone asked him which route he took to get home, he would not be able to answer.
He entered the house. The after-school, pre-dinner, hustle and bustle of his home seemed oddly strange, like he was seeing things through some kind of haze. His mind seemed to race, sounds seemed clearer - he could hear every off-key note of his daughter Lucy practicing the oboe in her room upstairs. He could hear and smell the crackling of what ever his wife was cooking for dinner in the kitchen at the back of the house. His fingers tingled, his face felt hot.
"Why the hell are my fingers tingling. Man, I gotta sit down."
"Reg, Reg, Honey...wake up and come to the table, dinner's almost ready and Lucy wants to tell you about her concert!" the light from the picture window always seemed to make Polly's long auburn hair glow like fire, made her look even more like the angel she was. In fact, as Reg stretched in his lounge chair, even more like the angel he would need her to be in the future.
"O.K., I'm coming." inhaling the wonderful aroma coming from the dining room, he stood, slid his feet into his slippers and walked to his seat, "Mmmm, smells delicious."
Despite his wife's wonderfully prepared meal, Reg sat through dinner, much as he sat through his ride home from the doctors office, much like he sat in the chair at the clinic where her was given the news - staring blankly at some place in front of him.
Lucy didn't notice as the energetic 13 year-old, self-described 'best oboist in the school' was filling him in on the details of her upcoming concert.
"Daddy. Daddy! Are you listening to me! Mr. Glistner says you have to be there by six o'clock to get a good seat. You're not going to be late, 'cuz of work stuff, are you? I want you to be in front so you can see me and hear me."
"I...have...a...solo!" Lucy announced, stiffening her back, holding up an imaginary oboe.
Reg fiddled with the noodles on his plate, idly spinning a meatball in a circle with one prong of his fork, making a nearly perfect circle in the sauce.
"Daaaaadyyyyy! Pay attention! Mommy says I can wear the purple dress, the one with the yellow belt and bow. The one I got for Easter." she added, as if her wardrobe would get his attention.
Reg looked up from his plate, putting his fork down, "I'm sorry sweetie. Yes, I heard you. 6:00 p.m. front row, Mommy and I will both be there."
"Awesome, Daddy! Mommy, may I be excused, I have math homework to finish before Idol comes on!" Lucy stated as she rose and gathered her dinner dishes to take to the kitchen.
"Sure, honey. Go ahead..." Polly said, turning her gaze too her husband. She had noticed his obvious distraction all through out the meal.
"O.K., Reg, what's wrong?"
Silence filled the space between them. Reg was back to his meatball spinning.
More silence. He stopped, put the fork carefully down on the edge of his plate, and looked at his wife.
"I have Colon Cancer, Stage II. Dr. Warfel says I need to have surgery and begin treatment as soon as possible." Reg stated, matter of factly.
Polly, usually full of her wonderful wit sat speechless, trying to decide what to say. Her husband was sick. What would they do.
Chapter 10: From The Frying Pan, To The Fire
The days between the dinner time announcement and his next doctor visit seemed to drift by for Reg. Everything just seemed off. His coffee didn't taste right. His favorite t.v. shows didn't seem quite as funny. His golf swing was way off, and the other day he completely forgot a meeting with Linson -- and he NEVER misses meetings -- Carm made his excuses for him, 'car-trouble' or something like that. And, oddly, his damn hands kept tingling! Some times at night when he would wake to use the restroom he could swear his hands were glowing blue! He shrugged it off as 'exhaustion'. So now he sits, once again in the clinic room, awaiting Dr. Warfel to come in with the 'plan'.
As usual it seemed to take for ever for the Doctor to get to them, so Polly, always the one to try to lighten the mood stood up and walked to the exam table.
"You know, stud..." she said in her best Texas drawl, "I don't reckon we ever done it on an exam table..." she had hopped up on the table and was now unbuttoning a button on her mint green blouse. One leg dangling over the other, her matching green heel flipping coyly from her foot.
Accross the room, Reg did his best to work up a smile. Though he did glance at her, and the door.
"The doctor could come in any second...and there's no lock on the door!" Reg said.
When his wife reached over and grabbed the head lamp from its place on the wall and proceeded to put it on her head, turn on the high-intensity light and shine it right down her cleavage, he had to laugh.
He also hopped up from his seat came over to the table, grabbed the lamp and said, "Cut it OUT, Pols!" He laughingly scolding her, and hanging up the device.
"Don't we got one of them lights at home, sugar?" again with the drawl she smiled.
"I think so! We can play LATER, now comeback over here will you!" Reg grabbed her hand and they returned to the chairs, just as the Doctor and his nurse entered the room.
As Dr. Warfel turned to introduce him self to his patients wife, he noticed that the head lamp light was on. "Odd, why is that on?" He said.
Reg and Polly shared a quick smirk between them. "Uh...we hadn't...noticed, Doctor." Polly answered, all traces of her Texas roots gone from her voice now.
Continuing, Dr. Warfel explained, "Alright, here is where we stand. I will just come right out and say it. While your Stage II colon cancer is operable, we have a bigger, more serious issue -- it is treatable -- but we will have to use a more....unconventional approach."
Puzzled, Reg nearly blurted out, "What the hell NOW!" but thought it better to let him explain, besides his mouth had gone dry and could barely breathe.
"First, let me apologize for filling you in fully last week. Given that you passed out when I told you about the colon cancer, I didn't think you'd be ready for the additional diagnosis." Dr. Warfel stood, flipping through the chart.
Reg looked up, shocked. "What the hell do you MEAN I wasn't ready? What the hell weren't you telling me!" Reg had not been this ready to punch a man's lights out in a long time. Polly picked up on this, reached out and grabbed his hand, she could feel the tension leave his fist.
"You have what we call advanced 'Leiomyosarcoma'." the doctor waited for the obvious question, flipping to another page in the chart.
"What?" Reg, blinking. He looked at Polly, still holding his hand, who had an equally confused look on her face.
"This is a type of metatastic cancer that, we believe arose from your colon cancer. It is very rare, but treateable." Warfel explained. "As a matter of fact, you have already had two initial treatments for this condition. Remeber the pills I gave you when you came too in my office last week?"
"Yes...but you said they would help clear my head? They were some kind of medicine? What the hell!" Reg was really furious now. He wanted to punch the bad toothed smoker, and damn the consequences.
"Reg, I know you are upset, but I had no choice. Your condition is very advanced, we had to start immediately while I arranged for the rest of the treatment. As a matter of fact, you need to be admitted, today. We have a lot to do to keep you alive, and really very little time." the doctor fished through a big notebook on the counter behind the treatment table. He pulled a form from the binder and slid it into a clipboard and passed it to Reg. "This is a release form we need you to sign, so we can admit you and begin treatment."
Suddenly the normally confident, man-in-charge-of-his-destiny sank back into the chair. He looked at his wife, almost trembling - not wanting to let Warfel see his momentary weakness - "What should I do, Pols?" he said, in a voice so low that his wife barely heard it.
Polly looked quickly over the form, it's tiny print hard to read through the tears of concern that were welling up in her eyes. "Sign the paper, Honey. We need to save your life."
With a shaky hand, Reg, signed the the document and returned it to the doctor.
"Mrs. Ularguy, we already have a treatment room ready for Reg. Let's get him settled. We can do the surgery tomorrow to remove the colon tumor and get him ready for the other treatment." Warfel explained, closing the growing file and handing it to the nurse.
"When you get settled in your room, I will explain the rest of the treatment."
Together, Reg and Polly followed the doctor and nurse to a pre-operative room. In a few moments Reg changed into the hospital gown, got into the bed, another nurse came and started an IV, and together they awaited the return of the doctor to explain what laid beyond the surgery.
Chapter 9: What the hell did I do?
BACK IN THE DOCTORS OFFICE...
When he finally came too, Reg saw Dr. Warfel and two nurses hovering him, the sharp pang of Ammonia digging a hole in his head.
"Mr. Ularguy... Mr. Ularguy, it's o.k. You fainted.", Dr. Warfel said his strong hands on Reg's shoulders, helping him to sit up along the wall.
"Oh, man...Oh, man..." is all Reg could come up with.
"It happens sometimes, Reg. When people find out they have cancer, it sometimes hits them all of a sudden like this." Warfel said as he and nurse blue-lips helped him up into the patient chair.
"Just to be sure we are going to get a set of vitals on you. Just hang in there." the doctor added. He collected his file and stood at the door. "I will make an appointment for next week and we can sit down and put a treatment plan."
The doctor reached into a pocket of his lab coat and pulled out an an orange bottle, popped open the lid and deftly poured out two red and blue capsules. He handed them to Reg with a little paper cup of water he drew from the nearby sink.
"Here. Take these, they will help with the dizziness you feel."
With a quick tip of his head, Reg took the capsules, drank the tepid water, crushed the cup and tossed into the wastebasket in the corner.
"Swish!" Reg thought to himself. "The first damn thing that has gone right in days..."
Dr. Warfel handed the bottler to Reg, "Take the other two tonight, before bed."
"O.K., Doc." Reg replied. Strange, Reg noted that the bottle only had only his name, the date and '4-capsules' typed on it. He shrugged off the oddity and dropped the bottle into the pocket of his Borelli shirt.
Reg tried to get his head to clear as blue-lips pumped up the blood pressure cuff.
"Jesus. Cancer. What the hell did I do to deserve this?" he muttered.
The rrrrip of the velcro brought him back to the present.
"Every thing is fine, Mr. Ularguy.", blue lips stated, as if the fainting patient had ruined her otherwise exciting afternoon of sitting at the desk, answering the phone and sipping her slurpee.
"Be sure to stop at the desk to get your appointment for next week." she said as she quickly slipped out the door.
In even more of a daze than when he passed out, Reg rose, slipped on his Armani jacket, left the clinic, hopped in the Porsche, slipped through the late afternoon traffic, arrived home and parked the Porsche in the driveway. He felt as if his body had been on autopilot, if someone asked him which route he took to get home, he would not be able to answer.
He entered the house. The after-school, pre-dinner, hustle and bustle of his home seemed oddly strange, like he was seeing things through some kind of haze. His mind seemed to race, sounds seemed clearer - he could hear every off-key note of his daughter Lucy practicing the oboe in her room upstairs. He could hear and smell the crackling of what ever his wife was cooking for dinner in the kitchen at the back of the house. His fingers tingled, his face felt hot.
"Why the hell are my fingers tingling. Man, I gotta sit down."
"Reg, Reg, Honey...wake up and come to the table, dinner's almost ready and Lucy wants to tell you about her concert!" the light from the picture window always seemed to make Polly's long auburn hair glow like fire, made her look even more like the angel she was. In fact, as Reg stretched in his lounge chair, even more like the angel he would need her to be in the future.
"O.K., I'm coming." inhaling the wonderful aroma coming from the dining room, he stood, slid his feet into his slippers and walked to his seat, "Mmmm, smells delicious."
Despite his wife's wonderfully prepared meal, Reg sat through dinner, much as he sat through his ride home from the doctors office, much like he sat in the chair at the clinic where her was given the news - staring blankly at some place in front of him.
Lucy didn't notice as the energetic 13 year-old, self-described 'best oboist in the school' was filling him in on the details of her upcoming concert.
"Daddy. Daddy! Are you listening to me! Mr. Glistner says you have to be there by six o'clock to get a good seat. You're not going to be late, 'cuz of work stuff, are you? I want you to be in front so you can see me and hear me."
"I...have...a...solo!" Lucy announced, stiffening her back, holding up an imaginary oboe.
Reg fiddled with the noodles on his plate, idly spinning a meatball in a circle with one prong of his fork, making a nearly perfect circle in the sauce.
"Daaaaadyyyyy! Pay attention! Mommy says I can wear the purple dress, the one with the yellow belt and bow. The one I got for Easter." she added, as if her wardrobe would get his attention.
Reg looked up from his plate, putting his fork down, "I'm sorry sweetie. Yes, I heard you. 6:00 p.m. front row, Mommy and I will both be there."
"Awesome, Daddy! Mommy, may I be excused, I have math homework to finish before Idol comes on!" Lucy stated as she rose and gathered her dinner dishes to take to the kitchen.
"Sure, honey. Go ahead..." Polly said, turning her gaze too her husband. She had noticed his obvious distraction all through out the meal.
"O.K., Reg, what's wrong?"
Silence filled the space between them. Reg was back to his meatball spinning.
More silence. He stopped, put the fork carefully down on the edge of his plate, and looked at his wife.
"I have Colon Cancer, Stage II. Dr. Warfel says I need to have surgery and begin treatment as soon as possible." Reg stated, matter of factly.
Polly, usually full of her wonderful wit sat speechless, trying to decide what to say. Her husband was sick. What would they do.
Chapter 10: From The Frying Pan, To The Fire
The days between the dinner time announcement and his next doctor visit seemed to drift by for Reg. Everything just seemed off. His coffee didn't taste right. His favorite t.v. shows didn't seem quite as funny. His golf swing was way off, and the other day he completely forgot a meeting with Linson -- and he NEVER misses meetings -- Carm made his excuses for him, 'car-trouble' or something like that. And, oddly, his damn hands kept tingling! Some times at night when he would wake to use the restroom he could swear his hands were glowing blue! He shrugged it off as 'exhaustion'. So now he sits, once again in the clinic room, awaiting Dr. Warfel to come in with the 'plan'.
As usual it seemed to take for ever for the Doctor to get to them, so Polly, always the one to try to lighten the mood stood up and walked to the exam table.
"You know, stud..." she said in her best Texas drawl, "I don't reckon we ever done it on an exam table..." she had hopped up on the table and was now unbuttoning a button on her mint green blouse. One leg dangling over the other, her matching green heel flipping coyly from her foot.
Accross the room, Reg did his best to work up a smile. Though he did glance at her, and the door.
"The doctor could come in any second...and there's no lock on the door!" Reg said.
When his wife reached over and grabbed the head lamp from its place on the wall and proceeded to put it on her head, turn on the high-intensity light and shine it right down her cleavage, he had to laugh.
He also hopped up from his seat came over to the table, grabbed the lamp and said, "Cut it OUT, Pols!" He laughingly scolding her, and hanging up the device.
"Don't we got one of them lights at home, sugar?" again with the drawl she smiled.
"I think so! We can play LATER, now comeback over here will you!" Reg grabbed her hand and they returned to the chairs, just as the Doctor and his nurse entered the room.
As Dr. Warfel turned to introduce him self to his patients wife, he noticed that the head lamp light was on. "Odd, why is that on?" He said.
Reg and Polly shared a quick smirk between them. "Uh...we hadn't...noticed, Doctor." Polly answered, all traces of her Texas roots gone from her voice now.
Continuing, Dr. Warfel explained, "Alright, here is where we stand. I will just come right out and say it. While your Stage II colon cancer is operable, we have a bigger, more serious issue -- it is treatable -- but we will have to use a more....unconventional approach."
Puzzled, Reg nearly blurted out, "What the hell NOW!" but thought it better to let him explain, besides his mouth had gone dry and could barely breathe.
"First, let me apologize for filling you in fully last week. Given that you passed out when I told you about the colon cancer, I didn't think you'd be ready for the additional diagnosis." Dr. Warfel stood, flipping through the chart.
Reg looked up, shocked. "What the hell do you MEAN I wasn't ready? What the hell weren't you telling me!" Reg had not been this ready to punch a man's lights out in a long time. Polly picked up on this, reached out and grabbed his hand, she could feel the tension leave his fist.
"You have what we call advanced 'Leiomyosarcoma'." the doctor waited for the obvious question, flipping to another page in the chart.
"What?" Reg, blinking. He looked at Polly, still holding his hand, who had an equally confused look on her face.
"This is a type of metatastic cancer that, we believe arose from your colon cancer. It is very rare, but treateable." Warfel explained. "As a matter of fact, you have already had two initial treatments for this condition. Remeber the pills I gave you when you came too in my office last week?"
"Yes...but you said they would help clear my head? They were some kind of medicine? What the hell!" Reg was really furious now. He wanted to punch the bad toothed smoker, and damn the consequences.
"Reg, I know you are upset, but I had no choice. Your condition is very advanced, we had to start immediately while I arranged for the rest of the treatment. As a matter of fact, you need to be admitted, today. We have a lot to do to keep you alive, and really very little time." the doctor fished through a big notebook on the counter behind the treatment table. He pulled a form from the binder and slid it into a clipboard and passed it to Reg. "This is a release form we need you to sign, so we can admit you and begin treatment."
Suddenly the normally confident, man-in-charge-of-his-destiny sank back into the chair. He looked at his wife, almost trembling - not wanting to let Warfel see his momentary weakness - "What should I do, Pols?" he said, in a voice so low that his wife barely heard it.
Polly looked quickly over the form, it's tiny print hard to read through the tears of concern that were welling up in her eyes. "Sign the paper, Honey. We need to save your life."
With a shaky hand, Reg, signed the the document and returned it to the doctor.
"Mrs. Ularguy, we already have a treatment room ready for Reg. Let's get him settled. We can do the surgery tomorrow to remove the colon tumor and get him ready for the other treatment." Warfel explained, closing the growing file and handing it to the nurse.
"When you get settled in your room, I will explain the rest of the treatment."
Together, Reg and Polly followed the doctor and nurse to a pre-operative room. In a few moments Reg changed into the hospital gown, got into the bed, another nurse came and started an IV, and together they awaited the return of the doctor to explain what laid beyond the surgery.
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