Mr. Nascar went to the local health department about a month after he was released. He doesn’t have any insurance and was dropped from TennCare when he was released from prison. While incarcerated, he had noticed a mole on his right shoulder blade had changed. It was an ugly little thing, so black that glistened. The health department referred him to a dermatologist to have the mole removed. He went for his office visit, they cut it out, stitched him up and he went along his merry way. He had a follow up appointment scheduled for 2 weeks later.
We both had mostly forgotten about the issue, the old “No news is good news” approach was in the back of our minds. Unfortunately that turned out not to be the case. When he arrived at his follow up appointment the doctor gave us the news that the pathology on the mole had returned, testing positive for cancer; malignant melanoma. Ugly, ugly words. I didn’t know what to do, so I did what I do best in upsetting, stressful situations. I cried. Mr. Nascar, bless his heart takes things in stride and has a very calm attitude about it. The dermatologist referred him to an Oncologist and a Surgeon. I guess they made the appointments backward, because the Oncologist was the first appointment and he couldn’t really help us seeing as he didn’t have the results from the surgery. Mr. Nascar met with the surgeon and an appointment was set for a larger area of skin to be removed around the original mole site, and for him to be injected with radioactive dye, to see if the cancer had spread.
On May 21, we arrived at the hospital at 7am. I dropped Mr. Nascar off and then whisked Bert© off to school. I was back by 8am and went to the Day Surgery area to sit with him before his surgery. I’ll never forget, he was in bed 11 and they said I could go right back. He looked so uncomfortable at 6′ 3″ trying to fit into the little hospital bed. He nodded off, but reminded me that at 8:30 I needed to go down and talk with financial services at the hospital. Without insurance, we have to pay for all of this out of pocket. The hospital has given us a 41% cash discount, but we still needed to put down a deposit before the surgery and then make payments on the $9,000-10,000 hospital bill. Ugh, even talking about it turns my stomach. I don’t know that we’ll ever be able to get out from under that, but it’s just going to have to be one step at a time.
When I finished with financial services, I went back up to sit with Mr. Nascar as his surgery wasn’t scheduled until 11. I went back to bed 11, and pulled back the curtain. To my surprise, Mr. Nascar was not there! I startled the heck out of the old man that had been assigned to that bed next. I closed the curtain, red-faced, turned on my heel and headed back to the reception area. The very nice nurse at the front desk explained that she had hoped to catch me when I came back to tell me that they had taken him on to pre-op to prep for surgery. I just smiled and told her it was too late. I suggested that she might want to check on the man in bed 11, as I’m sure I came as a little bit of a shock to him.
In the waiting lounge, I spent hours alternating between reading my book and checking the names scrolling down the TV screen that gives an update on each patient’s surgery status. I received a call from a surgical nurse when they surgery started, and again about an hour in to update me and let me know that all was well. Finally about 1:30 that afternoon the lounge nurse notified me that the surgery was over and that the doctor would be coming to talk to me.
I had never met Dr. D before, but he was very nice. He explained to me that the surgery went well. The radioactive dye had travelled to the lymph nodes under Mr. Nascar’s right arm, so he took 3-4 of those out for biopsy. He gave me some basic care instructions, and advised me that we should set a follow up appointment for two weeks. About an hour after I spoke with Dr. D I was able to go back and sit with Mr. Nascar again. He was asleep when I arrived, heavily medicated. I sat with him for awhile and quietly read my book. Around 3pm Mr. Nascar woke up and was complaining of intense pain in the incision site on his back. The nurse said she was unable to give him any more medication; we would need to wait for discharge and have his prescription filled.
We left the hospital about 4 that afternoon and went to pick up Bert©. We made our way to Wal-Mart to have his prescriptions filled. He wasn’t feeling very well and was very groggy. He went straight to sleep as soon as we arrived home. That weekend I was off on Friday & Monday for the Memorial day holiday. Friday was Bert©’s last day of school. I promised her that I would come and have lunch with her that day, and Mr. Nascar has said he would come as well. That didn’t end up happening. From Thursday afternoon after the surgery till Saturday, Mr. Nascar slept 20-21 hours a day. On Saturday we first realized he was having a fever, 102.4. Thus began the first of 3 visits to the Emergency Room to fight what we would eventually find out to be a raging Staph infection.
Life was pretty miserable for all involved for the next two weeks or so. My step-father passed away very suddenly, from what we still really don’t know. Mr. Nascar was in copious amounts of pain from the 6” incision on his back (because the skin was pulled so tight to close the wound) and from the surgery site under his arm as it was swollen from the infection.
Then, more bad news came along. The pathology on the lymph nodes had come back. They had tested positive for cancer. Dr. D thought it would be best for him to go operate again on Mr. Nascar to remove the rest of the lymph nodes under his right arm. First though, we needed to clear up his current infection and give him some additional time to heal. We used that time to take off for a family vacation in Florida. We needed that, all of us. It was time to relax, and enjoy each others company without the pressure and stress of everyday life.
On Tuesday July 14, Dr. D again operated on Mr. Nascar. The difference between this surgery and the previous one is very noticeable. Mr. Nascar was awake as soon as I came back to the recovery room. He has had a full and voracious appetite. He hasn’t been sleeping most of his days away. He has been up and around, and joking with me. So far (fingers crossed, please) there has been no sign of an infection. Mr. Nascar started taking antibiotics a week prior to surgery and will continue them for 20 days afterward to hopefully thwart another infection. He says that his arm is sore, and he cannot raise it very high, and the drain that he has for the next two weeks is annoying, and things don’t taste right because of the antibiotics, and, and, and. He is back to his *relatively* normal self again. I am happy to see it. He’s itching to go back to work, but I’d like him to be out for at least a week, especially with the drain in.
He has a follow up appointment in two weeks with Dr. D. Hopefully we will have the pathology back on the remaining lymph nodes that were removed. Dr. D said that he didn’t see anything obvious that looked bad, however it’s harder to tell in men than it is in women. I don’t see that it matters much regardless because Mr. Nascar has decided not to follow up with the Oncologist. He is adamant that he doesn’t want any Chemotherapy or Radiation treatment. He tells me that he’s 42 years old and that his only regret if he dies would be leaving me and Bert© behind. He says he is not scared of dying, that he is looking forward to what happens when he passes from this life.
I am not happy about this decision, but it is not my place to force him to choose otherwise. He is a grown man and is perfectly capable of making choices in his life, he got along fine for 40 some odd years without me and he doesn’t need my opinions now. He spent 11 years caring for his mother and watching her die. He knows some of what it’s like to go through those treatments, and understands the disappointment when they don’t work. His theory is, why not enjoy the time that I do have left with the people I love, instead of making myself feel sick and miserable with the medication that’s supposed to help me and dying anyway. I really can’t fault him on his logic. Regardless, it’s plausible that I could be killed in a tragic accident and die before he does anyway. Who knows? From the moment we’re born we begin dying. Might as well make the most of it.
That being said, I’m going to go wake his butt up right now, give him and big hug and tell him how much I love him. Thank you all for letting me share this with you. It was finally time and it needed to come off my chest.
Happy Saturday everyone!
I had never been to 
