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On Wednesday, April 12th, I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I had no symptoms or any reason to think this was news we were going to hear.
John and I had enjoyed a wonderful cruise in the Caribbean over spring break. We drove home from Galveston, TX on Sunday. Monday was a professional work day of sitting in meetings. I was very uncomfortable and in some pain when I was breathing but I figured I had pulled a muscle and made an appointment at the district's health clinic for Tuesday. After school on Tuesday, I realized I had not had pain during my day of teaching but figured since I had the appointment scheduled, I should go. After giving my symptoms and self-diagnosis, my doctor checked me out and I expected a muscle relaxer. Instead, she told me I had to go to the ER. This seemed really extreme, but I drove home, picked up John and Clark and went. After tests, I was told that I had a blood clot in each lung and would be admitted. However, the CT scan of my chest revealed more.
Doctors found a spot on my pancreas. This became the focus of my remaining two day stay. More tests. A biopsy. And then waiting until the following Wednesday, April 12th.