October 11th. The day finally arrived for the MRI that would hopefully tell us what was going on with Brad. I tagged along for moral support and because I was starting to really get worried about him. In the past two days his color had progressively became more of a yellow tone. It was noticeable enough that Logan had mentioned something to him, and I did a double take when I saw his torso after he took a shower that morning. I think he might have been able to glow in the dark he was that yellow. Something was definitely going on.
While we had been at the hospital that morning, I had him request portal access for his account so we could look at his labs and stuff like that ourselves. This was when I first saw his lab work and his levels were sky high. I was also able to read that they were specifically looking for a binary blockage with the MRI that was done this morning. I was texting back and forth with my friend Julie and at this point and mentally preparing myself for him to have gallbladder surgery soon. Little did I know that in the next two hours and 15 minutes life was going to change forever.
Shortly after noon, Brad came into my office and said that Dr. Fowler had called and that we weren't meeting with the surgeon that day at 2 as was previously scheduled. Instead, they were trying to get him in with another doctor there in Pratt hopefully that afternoon or first thing in the morning. He said they told him there wasn't any blockage seen on the scan. Something about the way he said it put me on edge and while I don’t remember exactly what I said to him, I know I reached for my phone to access his chart in the portal. What I was about to read ripped my heart out and sent a jolt of sheer panic through my body.
“1. Abnormal signal within the central liver resulting in significant intrahepatic biliary ductal dilatation. This finding is highly concerning for neoplastic process such as cholangiocarcinoma or alternatively metastatic disease. Recommend MRI with IV contrast for better evaluation.
- Ill-defined T1 hypointense mass like lesion within the pancreatic tail. This should be further evaluated with dedicated CT or MRI with IV contrast pancreas protocol.
- Soft tissue nodules seen within the mesentery measuring up to 1.8 cm in the left lateral abdomen. These finding would be concerning for metastatic disease.
- Indeterminate hypoattenuating lesion in the inferior right hepatic lobe measuring up to 1.1 cm. This could also be further characterized on MRI with IV contrast.”
Now I’m not going to lie, I had to google several of these terms, but I knew without the assistance of google md that metastatic was not good. I quickly learned that Cholangiocarcinoma meant Bile Duct Cancer and at that point, I remember texting Julie and saying, “I think he has cancer.”
I walked into the living room where my husband was sitting and told him I had just read the report. I don’t remember having emotion other than pure terror when he said “Yea, Dr. Fowler said it wasn’t good.”
The next hour was a blur. Fowler’s office was supposed to be calling us back with further instructions. My mind was racing with possibilities, and I was doing a deep dive into Cholangiocarcinoma. What I was finding was not good. For those of you who do not know, Cholangiocarcinoma is extremely rare, extremely difficult to treat and is generally not survivable. We both were startled when his phone rang. It was Fowler’s office calling back so he answered on speaker phone. The person calling wasn’t just a nurse from the office, Dr. Fowler himself was on the other end. While he didn’t want to speculate, he did want to prepare us for what we were likely facing and that was indeed cancer. They had us set up with an oncologist there in Pratt the next morning where they would get us fast tracked for a ERCP biopsy in Wichita where we would be getting more information and find out exactly what we were dealing with.
I remember sitting there in silence after the phone call ended. The tv, which Brad seemed to always have on even if he wasn’t watching it, wasn’t even on. Just the sometimes annoying tick from the windmill clock hanging on the wall. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. In that moment, I’d like to say I was strong. That I was able to hold myself together. But it wasn’t me that was strong. It was the man who gave more than he took. Who always had a positive outlook no matter what the deck delt. Who was my rock even when I needed to be his. For as long as I live, I will never ever forget the moment when I was on my knees in front of his chair on the floor, tears in my eyes, trying to reassure him that we would beat whatever this was when he simply said “Oh, I’m not afraid of this. I’m not worried. I’m going to be alright no matter what. I’m just worried about you.” That’s strong. That’s where my strength in the months that loomed ahead of us would come from. The man who had No Fear.
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Tessa- thanks for sharing your story! God bless you!!