On Monday, December 14, it was time to focus on my greatest fear, the return of the cancer. After meeting with Dr. Stoeckle, (the robust and skilled surgeon who had done the colon resection two years ago and was going to do the colonoscopy on Friday), I had to have blood work done the next day at 2 pm. I am uncomfortable about needles, especially after the five months of chemotherapy, but fortunately, I was going to get all the tests I would need in the next month done at same time (for my hypothyroidism, the tumor marker test, and the two tests for the colonoscopy). Drawing the blood went well enough, and now the wait till Wednesday afternoon at 3:30 to get the results. My real concern was the tumor marker test, which would indicate if the cancer had returned but I felt much better than in the past about the outcome. I was very active, and the earlier tests (done every four months) had been fine. I called about 3:45 and finally got the results a little after 4:00, which were all good. My regular doctor, Rob Solomon, had said that if the cancer were to come back, it would likely not come back in the colon, so the tumor marker test had been worrying me more than the colonoscopy.
As a present to myself, I had planned a visit to Charleston, South Carolina, for five days, and I was supposed to leave on Saturday morning. I was looking forward to bike riding, kayaking near Folly Island, a visit to the Plantation Grill, golf and walking the beach. But on Thursday, I found out that a massive snow storm was predicted for Friday after 4:00 pm. That shouldn’t have affected the colonoscopy—that was scheduled at 11:15—but it could affect my trip. I reworked things a little and instead of leaving Saturday, I would leave Sunday by 2:00 and just make it to Charlotte. The prep for a colonoscopy is probably the worst part and by 2:30 on Thursday, I found out that I was now the ninth patient that Dr. Stoeckle would see and my appointment had been pushed back till 1:00. It still seemed like I could be done before the snow began, and get home to start clearing the road with my farm tractor (not recommended after anaesthesia, but in the past I have been fine). However, when I called at 12:00 as recommended, the scheduling person said that I wouldn’t get in before 4:00 and perhaps much later. That news meant my ride was probably out (my friend had to get back to Roanoke before the snow) and it didn’t look like I could even get back to the hollow, which could mean real problems with getting the snow off if it froze, making the tractor’s scraper blade virtually useless. I called Rob Solomon, and he said he would talk to Stoeckle and make sure I wasn’t going to be cancelled (this would mean I would have to do the blood work and the prep again). I had now been without food since 9:00 on Thursday morning and without water since 6:00 am Friday. Rob called and said that I wouldn’t be cancelled and that he would be glad to drive me home after the procedure. But then the snow began around 2:00 and I could tell that it would be crazy to try to get Rob to drive me home. I called my friend Mike who worked on the farm next to my property and he said he could probably come over and clear the snow on Saturday, so I accepted Rob’s offer to stay at his house that evening.
Finally I was taken into the pre-op room around 3:00, and then a nurse came in to start my IV. Unfortunately, I clenched my hand and the vein she tried blew. I was now on the verge of tears and about to run off, but Rob appeared and the anaesthesiologist came in and she quickly got the IV in. I called her an angel and I began to relax. I chatted with Rob and at 4:15 I went in and by 5:00 I was done and all was well.
I stayed at Rob’s and helped shovel some snow from his driveway even though he thought I shouldn’t do any shoveling since I had just had a colonoscopy. I certainly couldn’t let him shovel alone and the exercise made me feel better.
By late afternoon the next day, after helping build an igloo for his son Noah, I decided I could make it back home. The roads were not in good shape once I left Blacksburg but there were other occasional cars so I kept going and reached Ellett about 4:30. I had about 4 miles to drive (normally 10 minutes at most), but the road had become a single lane with banks of snow on either side. I was on the verge of panic, but I didn’t want to turn around and go back, so I pushed on and amazingly no one else appeared. When I got to the farmer’s gate (two miles from my home), I was elated—at least for a minute or two.
Mike had warned me that he wasn’t sure I could get to the hay barn (about ¾ of a mile from the log house), but my luck held as I stayed in the tire tracks of Mike’s truck until the last hill before the barn. Here the steepness and the heavy snow (we would get over 20 inches) stopped my pickup and slid me slightly off the main path. I knew I wasn’t getting out so I called Mike to see if I would be blocking him but he said I would be fine since no one was coming out till 2:00 the next day. It was twilight, and I still had to walk almost a mile through 20 inches of snow. I quickly filled my day pack with my laptop and a few folders and started to the hollow. I had to move very slowly mainly because of the snow but also because of my arthritic knee. By the time I reached my gate, it was almost dark and I still had 4/10 of a mile to hike in. I had taken a couple of advils but my knee was beginning to hurt more and more. I was pretty sure I was going to make it, but I also knew I was moving very, very slowly. I went on for fifty yards then rested, then thirty yards but finally the sight of my house cheered me and the last 150 yards proved easier.
When I got in the house, I realized that I should have accepted Rob’s invitation to stay another night in Blacksburg. I still had a truck stuck in a snow bank and I would have to wait for Mike to show up with his tractor to pull me unless I could dig myself out with my own tractor. However, I wasn’t even sure my tractor, a 35 horsepower John Deere, would be able to handle this much snow. At least I was safe at home and after a good night’s sleep things would look better.
As soon as light came I dressed up in my snow clothes, heavy boots with an insulated farmer john oversuit and two sets of gloves. Having worked through a number of ice and snow storms, I knew how cold it could be on my tractor, which had no warming enclosure. A sleet storm was the worst as it stung my face and blinded me. This morning was simply cold, and after I dug out the tractor barn doors, the big test came. Happily, my tractor pushed through the heavy snow with ease, but as soon as I lowered the scraper blade, it skidded and slowed. I saw that I would have to take off a couple of inches with each pass, and that would take hours but it would work. After numerous passes down to the gate (going uphill was virtually useless), I had most of the snow off and I headed for my truck to see if perhaps I could get it out myself. The sun had come out and I tried to appreciate the stunning terrain but my truck’s predicament kept pushing through the snow-clad pines.
I cleared out as much as I could with the tractor, then shoveled the rest. My plan was to leave the truck in neutral with the brake off and, after attaching a long chain I use for such events, see if the tractor could pull the truck out. When I backed up and put pressure on the chain, the tractor wheels simply slipped. I would have to get down to bare earth to have a chance, but I decided to wait for Mike, who was going to be out in less than an hour. I sat in my warm truck practicing my soprano saxophone (I performed regularly at a restaurant in Blacksburg with an outstanding jazz guitarist). I thought living by myself in the hollow would be an adventure and the last couple of days proved that.