My Brush with the Reaper

In October, 2006, while living in Salem, Oregon,  I went in for a routine CAT scan.  I had an incessant pain in the groin,  The procedure was done to determine if it was a hernia, which is not terribly worrisome as maladies go.

The next day, I got a call from my doctor. I was asked to come in right away. When I got to the clinic, the doctor told me I had a tumor the size of a baseball on my pancreas. He said there was only a one percent chance that it was benign.  I had no symptoms. I wasn't sick; not at all. Talk about going from daylight to darkness in an instant.  One moment, I'm humming along like I always have, the next I'm staring at cancer with death a near certainty.  Pancreatic cancer is as bad as it gets. Very few who have it live even a year. Emotionally, I was in a tailspin.  I had unfinished business. I was an emotional wreck, like never before.

A few days later, a biopsy was taken from my pancreas.  Then, for another week, I was as distraught as I have ever been in my life, waiting for the results. I just wasn't ready to check out.

Then, the news came.  The pathology report indicated the tumor was benign.  I was part of the one percent.  Until something like that happens, you can't know the meaning of the word relief.

Less than two weeks later, I went into Salem Hospital.   My surgeon, Ron Jaecks, instilled confidence. He also happens to be a magician on the side, when he's not performing life saving surgery.   Ron Jaecks opened me up and worked on me for  nearly seven hours. Apparently, there's a lot of stuff that has to be moved aside in order to do that kind of abdominal surgery. Dr. Jaecks removed 60% of my pancreas and my spleen.  I was in hospital for a week recovering afterward. That was nearly six years ago.  Other than a bit of  problem with elevated blood sugar,  I came out of the surgery pretty much like I was before.  I am most grateful to my wife, Jenny for her devotion and support, and to Dr. Ron Jaecks, surgeon extraordinaire.  He managed some very delicate and prescise cutting on my critcal plumbing. For gizzard work, I can't imagine that anyone could be better.  

Here's my takeaway from the whole experience. My time, everyone's time on Earth is limited. Despite the reprieve,  I saw ever so clearly that the time I have left is running out. So, I said to myself, no more  hand wringing about what other people think.  I trust my own sense of right and wrong. I want to leave this life better for my having been here.  I saw the path I needed to follow. I am on it right now.  Whether I succeed in making a difference remains to be seen.  One thing is certain, I'm having fun trying.