"Surprise"

Prologue:

People often say to me, "You always seem so calm" and "Nothing phases you" While not entirely true, I will say I've had a lot of practice absorbing surprises...

Superheroes have origin stories. To be clear, I'm no superhero. The source of much of my strength was forged in the story of our twins and their journey to be... and I suspect several posts will stem from the chain of events that led to their birth. But before I get into that...

- - -

Quite a bit has transpired since my last post. And I've learned a lot about how Multiple Myeloma (MM) attacks bones. And while the first round of Chemotherapy served to restore the function of my tongue and speech, there have been a few "bumps in the road." I won't call them setbacks but rather "Surprises." And I've had my fair share. Fortunately, I've had a lot of practice navigating big surprises (more on that later).

If you're newly diagnosed with MM, my advice to you, assume it's the cancer and consult with your oncologist - quickly! As it turns out, the left arm issue I talked about in a prior post was not muscle or joint related. The "termite-like" lesion was eating its way through my left humerus #NotFunny but quite destructive. Surprise 1.

As a result, not only had I lost the function of the arm, but now the structural integrity of the bone was so compromised that doing something as easy as opening a jar of peanut butter would have resulted in it breaking. And any movement, no matter how small, felt like the arm was breaking. Truly excruciating. Once x-rays validated the situation, I was fast-tracked to surgery to repair the bone. Surprise 2.

Normally that would have been done by inserting a pin or affixing a plate to the bone. But once again, I'm thankful for technology. My surgeon and oncologist consulted and wanted to find a solution that would restore the bone but would not result in multiple weeks of recovery - as this would delay my next round of chemotherapy. An implant made by IluminOss saved the day, and I'm now on track to round 2 in ~ 14 days!

The surprises didn't end there, however. I noticed that my ankles and feet were swelling quite a bit the week before the surgery and the week after that. So my oncologist erring on the side of caution, ordered a comprehensive ultrasound and lo-and-behold... a small blood clot has appeared in my left ankle... Surprise 3.

I'm working on the plan, adjusting the treatments, and riding the wave. But most importantly, staying focused on healing and staying positive!

Ok, the Twins...

In Season 3 Episode 2 of #TedLasso, Ted explains to Roy Kent what a Hallmark Christmas Movie is like...

"They suck, but they're great — but they also mostly suck, but they're also kinda great. They're good with the sound off."

What is also true is every time I tell "The Twin Story", the goosebumps shared by those who hear it are real... so let's #StartHere

As my wife explains, we always planned to have our second child 16-18 months after our first. And as the #RollingStones famously sang, "You can't always get what you want."

My wife is "petite," 4'6", and soaking wet; she's nowhere close to 90 pounds. So you could say the physical task of carrying twins was a scientific miracle.

I came home from work one day in early April 2002, and my wife had our son Billy wearing one of those cute "Big Brother" t-shirts, the kind that tests whether or not you're even paying attention... I wasn't.

"What do you think of my shirt, Dad?"... cue the lightbulb.

Now Allyson's first with our first, Billy, was not a cakewalk but certainly not a warning of things to come; the only precaution they suggested was to have more frequent ultrasounds.

And so, things seemed ok the first several weeks in the first trimester. Regular trips to the OBGYN, cell counts, taking "baby pictures", and vitals would give us no reason for concern...

Then the images started to change. Cell counts continued to climb, but there was a lack of clear definition of the baby's shape, especially with the accelerated cell count. Heart rate was very feint, almost undetectable. And for the first time, our doctor's face showed something other than optimism. And for the first time, the words "non-viable pregnancy" were mentioned.

Weekly ultrasounds became daily, and Allyson and I braced ourselves. And for every unclear ultrasound image, a far less desirable picture started to gain focus. Over these past few weeks, we'd ridden an emotional roller-coaster unlike anything we could have imagined. "You're pregnant" - "Things look ok" - "Things look odd" - "You're not pregnant" - "You're at risk"

On a Tuesday in early June (roughly 10 weeks into this journey), we were faced with our worst-case scenario. After one of our regular ultrasound appointments, we sat in the OBGYN's office, and he reviewed the most recent images. It was his conclusion that the pregnancy was non-viable and that a D&C (dilation and curettage) was necessary to remove the tissue and prevent any further health risk to Allyson. After a battery of questions and "what if" scenarios, we resigned ourselves to the situation and scheduled the appointment for the end of that week.

We had a pre-op meeting with the ultrasound tech and the OB for Thursday as a final review prior to the procedure. No heartbeat, misshapen mass... things had not changed; we went home resigned to the reality. We went to bed early that night, trying to get some rest and prepare for the emotional day ahead.

At roughly 11:30 PM, Allyson shook me awake. "Something was wrong"; she was having crushing chest pain and difficulty breathing. We're 30 years old! A heart attack, really!? what else were we going to get thrown at us this week?

After a 911 call and a quick EMT ride to our hospital, we were whisked back to the ER, and doctors and nurses were swarming. An EKG cardiac enzyme test ruled out a heart attack! Great, but now we were searching for the cause of the pain. The ER Dr. asked a battery of questions and was looking at the next wave of tests.

Prior to ordering any imaging, he asked, "Is there any chance you are pregnant." Allyson and I exchanged a glance and, after a very long pause, quickly shared the story of the last several weeks. The Dr. followed up with a very specific question. "I need to be clear here. Do you want me to investigate the pregnancy in any way?"

Another long pause. Less than 10 hours ago, we had seen an ultrasound and made the most difficult decision of our lives to that point. After what must have seemed like an eternity to the doctor, we said, "No."

A series of tests were ordered, including an ultrasound of the gallbladder. We made our way to the imaging center. As Allyson was getting settled on the exam table, much to our surprise, the same ultrasound tech from the meeting with the OB earlier that day was working a double shift and was doing our ultrasound.

"What are you guys doing here?" As she was reviewing the orders, we shared the story. She was a comforting sight, as we had established such a great relationship with her over the last few weeks. She knew our story, and her empathy was just what we needed at this late hour.

Just as she was settling in to begin the ultrasound, the phone rang in the exam room. "Sorry guys, one second. Hello? Yes. That's correct. Yes. I see. Ok, yes, dr. Ok."

We would learn that the ER doctor had called and modified the orders. And in addition to the gallbladder, the tech was to assess the pregnancy. After completing the first part of the order, the nurse explained the change in orders. At this time, we could not see the screen on the ultrasound.

As she moved over Allyson's uterus, the tech's face changed. "Oh my gosh, guys. Look at this!" (She turned the screen so we could see). "Remember how the gestational sac was so badly misshapen this afternoon? Look at how it's changed." She adjusted her positioning of the wand. "Wow!" she adjusted the volume of the machine... a heartbeat! Another adjustment of the wand. "Oh my god! Look! There are two of them! It's TWINS!" Another adjustment "That's the second heartbeat."

After scraping my jaw off the floor and hearing the word again, "TWINS?!" Tears of joy would start to flow. A legit miracle.

- - -

Epilogue:

A little over a year later, we would find ourselves in the ER again... and who should step through the curtain but the same Doctor who made that call to the ultrasound room that night in June. "You don't remember us," Allyson began, "but we remember you. And we need to thank you." She would recount the story, and we shared an emotional moment with the doctor.

#Surprise