Welcome to our CaringBridge website. We've created it to keep ya'll updated about Brad and to let us vent. Get started by reading the introduction to our website, My Story.
Visit often to read the latest journal entries, visit the photo gallery, and write us a note in our guestbook.
I honestly didn't think we would need to create a website of our own. It isn't so much Brad writing, but me.
This journey began rather suddenly as most of you know. My robot version is "he got sick on Sunday and had really bad stomach pain. Being sick went away but the pain stayed and got worse, so by Tuesday night, he finally agreed to go the ER". I call it my robot version because I have said it soooooo many times I feel like a robot.
The ER visit was a nightmare. We got there at 1240. We waited an hour to get back into a room. Then we waited another 5 hours to be seen by this putz of a doctor. I have many names for that SOB but we will call thim "the putz" from here on out. He had the bedside manner of a goat. He didn't even knock on the door. He just came rushing in! Scared the hell outta us! He poked, he prodded, asked very short curt questions, and told us he was ordering a lower abdominal ct scan. Then he left. Brad looked at me, I looked at him. We were like, WTH? Wow. Radiology came in shortly after and did the ct.
Oh yeah. The putz ordered Dilauded for the pain. So finally after waiting 6 hours he finally had relief!
Then the putz came back at 845 with the nurse. Her name was Amanda. Brad liked her. She was alot prettier than the last nurse. Of course Brads last nurse was a guy, who in Brads opinion had used just a wee bit too much "Just For Men" on his hair. It also didn't help that the guy was flaming. But, Brad told Amanda this, and she just laughed.
So the putz comes storming back into the room, with Amanda in tow. And then he launches into what the ct showed. Now remember, he is a putz, and I call him that for a reason. He didn't prepare us, he didn't break it to us gently. He just fricken said. "There are lesions on the liver and the sigmoid colon is irregular. It is probably colon cancer. The surgeon, oncologist and internist will be here to see you and get you admitted. Poor Amanda. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her wincing, and she kept looking from me to Brad. You could see she was very uncomfortable with how the putz told us. Anyway. Then the puzt turns around and leaves. Amanda asks if we need anything, and we just kind of looked at her and shook our heads. Wow.
When he said it, I swear the air got sucked out of the room. In two sentences, our world had literally been turned upside down. Brad just laid there. Omg. I just started walking around the room. And then I had to make phone calls. The two hardest phone calls were to our moms. I couldn't get the words out. I was bawling. Mom, God, she was at work, and kept telling me to take a deep breath, she couldn't understand me. I finally got it out. With Brads mom, we had to wait a while because of the time zone diff. I was ok for about 30 seconds. Not as bad as the first phone call, but once again, I bawled. Brad cried, his mama was crying, I was crying. We were all a hot mess for a little bit. 14 years, I had never seen my man cry. Jesus. After that, the phone calls got easier, I think because I disconnected. I had to start thinking about what they were doing for Brad and what I could do for him. The internist, Dr. Lucas, came in and he is soo nice. He was the "anti-putz". He reiterated what the putz said, only in such nice, comforting tones. What impressed me the most was that as he was leaving, he patted Brads hand and said, "we are going to take care of you now. Brad and I had another "WTH" moment. But that was a good "WTH" moment. It was just nice.
Then we had to wait somemore. And wait. And wait. We have a social worker now. Yes. Its amazing the people you have in your life when your husband has cancer. At 240, I had to leave. I had to get home, check on the kids and pack. Mom had taken off work to be with them. I hadn't slept since Saturday night. Not more than 2 hours. He had been sick and I couldn't sleep, then the pain wouldn't go away, and I still couldn't sleep with him in pain. And then the ER, well you try sleeping in an orange, plastic chair! You know, when you are 41, you really can't do that shit anymore. Brad was moved to his room around 330 or so. I got back around 630. He has a nice room with a lovely view of the life flight helicopter. It is really not a bad view. Better than the parking garage and interstate, which is what the view usually is when the kids are sick!! So here we are.