Shane was released from the hospital yesterday and has done remarkably well. On Wednesday, October 24, a wonderful UAB surgeon removed a malignant tumor from his kidney. The name of the cancer is renal cell carcinoma, and it's the most common form of kidney cancers in adults. The good news is that caught at this stage (thanks to a wonderful family physician and ultrasound tech and divine intervention) it is highly curable with surgery alone. Shane is a survivor.
This has been the scare of our lives. Like most people, it came from out of the blue, fast and devastating. But they found it before it had spread (clear margins, no lymph node or other organ involvement), and we count our blessings that they were able to keep 75% of the kidney. He is walking and watching English Premier League soccer and eating. After a few weeks of rest he's going to be feeling even better -- back to his usual routine.
At the end of the week we go back for a post-surgical visit. He'll rest for the next month or so, and will have periodic CT scans every few months.
It is going to take me a while to unpack the emotions and meaning from this experience. I've spent most of my career using language to navigate the rugged terrain of illness, and been blessed to learn from people who have confronted life-threatening diseases of their own and of loved ones. Now I am navigating our own rugged terrain, trying to be what I have always held up to be gospel, Hemingway's code of being "strong at the broken places."
I know there is meaning in this, and am experiencing what so many people tell me about facing the "c" word -- it's incredible how many people reach out to you, how it refines your vision. We wouldn't wish this struggle, but here it is. So we look toward our blessings, like our funny, smart son (pictured here during an outing with his Grandpa yesterday -- more photos under "Oct-Nov. 07" album to the right), and tomorrow.
