Post-Surgery Update from Nina

I wanted to update Di's Blog as soon as possible because I know how many of you are anxiously awaiting news of the outcome of surgery. Di's doctor was able to give her the ileostomy instead of the colostomy. This means she will NOT wear the colostomy bag for the rest of her life, but only for a minimum of 3 months while the resectioned portion of her colon is healing. After her agony of being faced with two such extremes for several months, we are relieved to tears and overjoyed that she received the best possible fate today.

While Di was being rolled off to the surgery, our dad walked behind her bed and continued to follow her past the allowed point for family according to the hositpal rules. Having lived through losing his mother, his only sister and the mother of his 5 children to cancer, it didn't seem like much would stop him from walking with her as far as he could or beyond if he wished. As we walked out to the family waiting room for surgical patients, he turned and said to me in half Vietnamese and half English, "Our family, last time, we lose. We don't lose this time."

Though we are still waiting for the pathology in the next couple of days, we are filled with more hope than ever, that he is absolutely right.

Di has woken up and we have just given her the news. We are trying to keep her comfortable and she is groggy, yet her mind is as sharp as a tack. She didn't react to the news, so much as ask twice. Then, in a tired voice, she says "Rowan and Spencer." Regardless of how much pain she is in or how doped up she seems, she still says thank you to the nurses everytime they complete a task for her. They seemed shocked that someone just hours after major surgery remembers her pleases and thank yous, so they give her a little laugh and say " You're welcome." Those who know her are not at all surprised.

Though she is extremely worn out and heavily medicated, and her awareness is fuzzy, she still managed to comment that her hospital room was pretty and not shaped weird like the last room. We wanted to get her a back scratcher for her itchy legs that were driving her absolutely crazy, and coicidentally, however strange, our dad quickly offered the one he already had in his car.(!) (If you have an Asian dad, it's more funny than it is weird.)

When asked if she wanted anything else, she replied, with eyes closed and half asleep, "Kentucky Fried Chicken." Di had to fast the day before her surgery and was starving by end of day. So our dad brought home a bucket of KFC for dinner. In hindsight, they probably should have gone out to eat that night. She continues to tell me, through her sleepiness, that I can share her toiletries and asks if they brought me a cot to sleep on. Even after a life changing surgery, nothing stops her from being a big sister.

I sit here, updating her blog in a chair next to her hospital bed, amazed once again by her bravery, her determination, her love for her boys and her kindness that reminds us all so much of our mom. We are so grateful for this gift, the gift of her future that is unfettered by a daily reminder that cancer took a part of her. She is free to claim that she's beaten it and when that day comes very soon, it'll be a sweet day. You did good today, Sis. We love you.