Don’t you just love webmd.com? Me too. I use it all the time to
self-diagnose. The summer of 2011 I was
in middle of enjoying my children, the sun, the fun and all that comes with
vacation time. I was too busy to go to the doctor so I decided to diagnose
myself with IBD otherwise known as Irritable Bowel Disease. I had all the symptoms according to my go to
site and I was not concerned because I had already suffered from IBS, Irritable
Bowel Syndrome for the majority of my adult life. No big deal.
I would take care of it later.
September came and it was a special beginning because my then 5
year old daughter was starting first grade at a new school and my 4 year old
son would be at his preschool without big sis present. Once they were both settled it was time to
rev up for our big school fundraiser gala event, my daughters’ 6th
Birthday celebration with 35 children, my Birthday, my husband's Birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and
New Year’s Eve. Ugh. The most exhausting four months of the year
for any wife, mother, sister, daughter, grandmother… any female at all!
I did find time however in mid-December to see a gastroenterologist
and she booked a colonoscopy for me right away but I had to reschedule because
Connor had his Christmas Concert and he was cast as Rudolf. I could NOT miss that! My doctor suggested that I may have
colitis. That sounded fair enough to me.
The procedure could wait. February 9, 2012 I checked into Cedars for a
routine colonoscopy. Two days later my
doctor called to set up an appointment and in my relaxed free spirited way said
sure what does next week look like?
She told me in a calm but serious voice “Allyson…I need you
to come in now.” I asked “Now as in
right now?” She said “Yes.” There was a brief silence as my heart rate
accelerated and I could feel my breath double in time. “Am I going to die?” I asked. “No” she said “but it’s not good and I need
to see you today.”
My mind was racing and my hands were shaking. I could barely think. All I could do was
get myself together enough to call my best friend in Vancouver. We had just booked tickets that morning to see Madonna, very exciting, and Theresa asked me if I heard back from my doctor. Eager to dismiss that thought and focus on Striking a Pose with my all time favorite performer I responded with "no worries-it's nothing serious." She then said "OK great, but just call to confirm." Theresa is my voice of reason. Now it is 2:23pm Friday afternoon and I am frantically calling her back. To my relief she picked up the phone and I immediately
broke down which is very rare for me.
Theresa told me to take deep breaths, which I did, remain calm, go to
see my doctor and call her immediately after. I hung up with Theresa , called
my husband in tears and told him to go pick up Sophia from school. I then called another one of my best friends
here in LA, explained the situation in more tears and asked if she could please
pick up Connor from preschool. Our sons were best friends, we were best friends
as well as family friends and I knew I could count on her. The children were now safe and well taken care of. Motherhood precedes all. Another breath.
As I parked my car and walked the 2 long blocks to my doctor’s
office all I could think to myself was the phrase I have heard in so many
prison movies… DEAD MAN WALKING. Not that I watch a lot of prison movies but that was the phrase that came to mind and would not leave. The chant rolled over and over in my head.
Was I? Me? Allyson? The dead man now walking? Is this real? Could this be happening? Is this a nightmare? Am I going to wake up? Am I going to live? Am I going to die? OHHHH GOD!
HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME PLEASE!!!
I paced in the waiting room and then I paced even more once
the nurse lead me to the examining room. The
room where I would learn my fate. I
prayed to God. Being a practicing Catholic I
alternated between The Our Father and Hail Mary. I like the good ole classics. The
minutes passed like hours and I thought about the first time I was in this office. The doctor was late because she had to
counsel the previous patient who had just received bad news.
What and how bad could my news be?
At last my doctor walked in. She sat down on a chair and I
was at the end of the examining table with my legs hanging over the edge like a
little child. She looked at me and put
her hands on my knees.
She did not have to say a word because I already knew. Without giving her a chance to reveal the
dirty words I bowed my head and as I sobbed through muffled breaths I stated “I
have cancer.” She held my trembling
hands, trying to comfort me at this monumental moment and said “Yes, I am
afraid so.”
8536 Wilshire Blvd Suite 202
Beverly Hills,
CA
90211
310 248-8200
310 248-8200
