Georgia’s Blog

At 8:30am on the morning of Friday, June 13th, I arrived at my doctor’s office to get the final results of all my tests. I made myself a cup of Earl Gray tea and picked up a People magazine.

The doctor opened the door to the waiting room and greeted me. “Good morning Georgia! Come on back,” she said, cheerfully. This is good, I thought. We made small talk on the way to her office, but when we sat down across from each other at her desk, she got serious…and sad.

“I don’t have good news for you,” she said. She opened my file and shuffled the papers in front of me explaining the results of all my tests.

“You have ovarian cancer,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

I looked away from her and gazed out the window. It felt like someone had cupped their hands over my ears. The voice in my head said “well…I’m not going to have it!” I turned to the doctor and asked, “Are you certain? Because I have to go home and tell my husband that and I need to be absolutely certain!” She assured me that the diagnosis was correct and referred me to a Gynecologic Oncologist in San Antonio.

As I was leaving her office, my doctor was visibly upset. This has to be the worst part of her job, I thought. I hugged her and told her not to worry; I was going to be just fine. Then I told her I loved her.

After learning of my cancer diagnosis from my doctor, I drifted out of her office and into my car. I started the engine, but had no idea where to go.

It is so surreal when you are told you have cancer. But having to tell other people…people you love…is very real! I wasn’t ready to go home. I wasn’t ready to say out loud, “I have ovarian cancer.” I finally pulled out of the parking lot and considered my options. Go to the park? A coffee shop? My office? I needed time to process this news, but I didn’t know how.

I pulled into my driveway, went into the house and whispered to my husband, “I have Ovarian Cancer.”

He was upset, of course, but very sweet! We talked for a long time and the shock began to wear off a bit. I was ready to tell my kids. All five of them are adults, and luckily all but one lives in New Braunfels. It took until 8:30 that evening, but I sat and talked with each one of them explaining my diagnosis, prognosis, and plan of attack. There were a few tears, but mostly brave, encouraging words from each of them. Such great kids I have!!

Once my husband and kids had been told about my cancer, I asked them not to tell anyone else. I wasn’t even ready to tell my own brothers and sisters. We were all still processing the news, doing our research, and imagining the outcome.

I scheduled a consult with Dr. James Wilder, the Gynecologic Oncologist that my Dr. referred me to. Thankfully, they were able to get me in within just a few days. It’s the waiting that’s the hardest part! After lots of questions and another ultrasound, Dr. Wilder cautiously explained that he couldn’t give a definite diagnosis of ovarian cancer until he surgically removed my ovaries and had run pathology on them.

The plan was to use laparoscopic surgery with DaVinci robotic assist to examine my pelvic cavity. If necessary, more extensive surgery would be needed to perform a complete hysterectomy.

My surgery was scheduled for June 23rd. Just ten days after my initial diagnosis. Why does it seem like an ETERNITY to me?

With my surgery scheduled, I put together a plan of attack!

I love to make plans and set goals. And I like to give them names. I hated saying “ovarian cancer” – even to myself – so I called my new plan “Project OC.”

First up on the plan…tell the Priest! My husband and I stayed after church to tell him our news. He ushered us up to the altar of the empty church and anointed me with oil and said a special prayer for each of us. It was a great first step…and finally, I could relax.

Next stop, a visit to Leslie Tatum, a holistic healthcare professional at Living Health. I knew she could help me prepare for this challenge.

We talked about a completely natural alternative path I could take – no surgery, no chemo, relying on nutrition and detoxes to rid me of my cancer. There are thousands of cancer patients who have radically freed themselves of the disease using these methods, but I opted for a combination of conventional and alternative treatments.

Leslie put me on a very strict diet of mostly organic plants and veggies, berries, wild caught fish, grass-fed beef , no grains, no sugar, no processed anything, and NO ALCOHOL! She gave me Vitamin C, Vitamin D, a green food powder and a protein powder for my morning smoothie. I was also instructed to give myself a coffee enema each morning. Yep. Organic coffee, no less!

For the next days leading up to my surgery I was so focused on grocery shopping, preparing and eating my food that time flew. And I was happy to be taking charge of my body!

I shared the news of my cancer diagnosis with my brothers and sisters, and my closest friend, Beth. That was tough. She had just lost her very best friend, Betty Jones, to cancer and the pain was still raw.

Beth has a huge sisterhood of friends and since I didn’t want to make any announcements before surgery, I asked to please keep the news to herself. She agreed.

My children, daughter-in-law, and brothers and sisters joined me on the morning of my surgery. We were quite the crowd and I was so thankful to have them all there. I had the easy part of this deal. All I had to do was take a cocktail and go nighty-night while they had to endure the wait.

I woke up as I was being wheeled out of the recovery room. I looked at the sign next to the elevator. W4ICU it read. I slipped my hand across my belly. I felt a long padded bandage that ran the entire length of my abdomen. And I knew.

My family greeted me in my room in the ICU Unit and bravely told me that I had Stage III Ovarian Cancer.

The doctor joined them and explained that he had removed my ovaries, uterus, appendix and a small tumor on my colon. He also removed my omentum (a lovely layer of fat that covers the abdominal wall). Finally, I thought…some good news! Cancer cells that were too small to remove surgically would need chemotherapy treatments to get rid of it.

It wasn’t good news, but it was news! Finally, I knew exactly what I was dealing with and could make a plan. The plan was to kick this cancer’s ass and get back to normal life ASAP!!

Once I was fully awake in my room in the ICU Unit, I peeked under my bandage. I had 30 staples running up the length of my abdomen, from my girly parts up and around my belly button. Bye-bye belly ring! 🙁

As I adjusted myself to get more comfortable, I noticed that I wasn’t able to extend my left leg. I thought it was tangled in the sheets, so I lifted the covers and pushed my leg forward. It didn’t move. The top of my thigh was numb and the sides were tingly. I panicked. This became the new focus for me. Forget the 30 staples! Forget cancer! My leg won’t work!!

I alerted the nurses, and anyone else who entered my room, and soon had a consult with a Neurologist, and a team of Physical Therapists. The diagnosis: Nerve damage. The cause: Unknown. The prognosis: Undetermined.

I was given a walker and had daily exercises with the physical therapist. One night in the hospital bathroom, I made the wrong move and ended up on the bathroom floor. It scared me and made me realize how vulnerable I was, and how dependent on others I was going to be. This new challenge became my new focus and I was determined to overcome it!