From Lemons To Lemonade

Time stood still. It was a day in February, 2014. Everything was happening as if in slow motion. All I heard was the monitor that was hooked to Ted beeping as his blood pressure went up into the danger zone. On the outside his face was calm, on the inside he was a bundle of nerves as indicated by the rising blood pressure reading on the beeping monitor. Rashida and I were staring at the doctor and not believing what we were hearing.

After being diagnosed with an ulcer four weeks before, Ted still didn’t feel well and now was losing weight at an alarming pace, so we’d made an appointment with the gastroenterologist who ordered a colonoscopy and an endoscopy. He gave us the good news first—the colonoscopy showed a couple of polyps that they removed—no problem. In the doctor’s words the endoscopy had revealed a large gnarly mass. Monitor: Beep, beep, beep—Ted’s blood pressure: 180/90. The doctor wasn’t sure what it was, had never seen anything like it before—Monitor: Beep, beep, beep, beep—Ted’s blood pressure: 210/100. He said he biopsied the hell out of it. Monitor: Beep, beep, beep, beep—Ted’s blood pressure: 220/110. The results would be back in a few days unless there was something to worry about, in which case it would be earlier. The nurse came in and, mercifully, disconnected the blood pressure machine. The monitor went quiet. It was Friday.

The doctor continued to speak but I heard what I think Charlie Brown must hear when people in his world speak (“wha, wha, wha”). My mind was rushing around in 500 different directions; I could no longer process what he was saying. Somehow, we made it out of the clinic and through the weekend.

On Monday afternoon the phone rang. Caller ID indicated it was the doctor’s office. It was too early for this phone call and immediately we knew our lives would be changed forever.