Time in the States

We’re back in BP now. (Maybe I shouldn’t use the initials for Brent Pelham.) James is in Barracudas (day camp) and Sarah is back to work. Our two-week trip to the states was fun, minus a medical scare for my brother, Harvey.

Week 1: We picked up James at Heathrow on a Friday (7/30) after he had spent a week with his dad in Finland. International traveler, he. He had no discernible tan lines from his time in Finland since he ran around with no clothes on at the beach at a summer house on the Baltic Sea. (BTW, Finland recorded a record high of 98 degrees.) On Saturday, we flew to the states and, on Sunday morning, we took the LIRR (can you say “cultcha shock”?) out to East Hampton. We were swimming on the other side of the Atlantic by the afternoon.

Meanwhile, in Boston, on Sunday, Harvey was drinking his pre-operation fluid to clear his GI system. He was scheduled to have surgery on what was believed to be a benign tumor – a duplication of the bowel – on Monday. We were all, innocently, looking forward to good news.

Back at the beach. No kids in sight but James instantly had great playmates in Amy, Jerry, Jane. James is absolutely fearless in the ocean. (He is not familiar with undertow nor rip tides.) I, in contrast, whilst playing in the waves with James, experienced those harrowing moments when the wave has crashed, the foam is dissipating and James has not surfaced. In fact though, he repeatedly came up from the tumble-wash of the waves with a big smile on his face. He loves a good ride. On our second day at the beach, as a big wave approached, I picked up James, twisted to place him out of harm’s way and my back went into spasm.

Harvey’s surgery was quicker than expected – they removed 10 inches of his small intestine and a five pound tumor (yes, you read that right) in less than two hours – but the recovery was painful since the epidural only took on one side. More painful, after the surgery, was the surgeon’s lack of bedside manner. He, off-handedly, listed the possible diagnoses including a type of rare sarcoma. This put Rebecca on her heels. Harvey was already laying down. Luckily, my father and Uncle Jerry were making their way (somehow) to Boston on Monday night and spent Tuesday with Harvey and Rebecca, returning on Tuesday evening.

I attributed my back spasms to being pulled in two directions – being at the beach with family but wanting to be with my brother and Rebecca in Boston. Rebecca was understandably shaken by the potential diagnosis and was looking for support. We made our way to Boston on Wednesday and I soon felt the muscles in my back relax. We were joined in the hospital in Boston by my brother Andy and Harvey’s daughter, Amy. Now we had a nursing student, a GP with 20 years of experience and a medical malpractice lawyer, who represents Memorial Sloan Kettering, to look after things.

Meanwhile, Harvey was doped up on Dilaudid to aid the epidural but slowly regaining his bearings. Sipping water, graduating to cranberry juice and, eventually, Italian ices, Harvey tested his intestines. We waited for him to pass gas – to signify progress – nothing he had ever struggled with before and something none of us ever before attended to with such excited anticipation. Flatulence and bowel function was his ticket out and a worthy distraction for all while we waited for the pathology report.

Sarah realized that James had never been to a hospital before. Before we got on the elevator, he was stunned by people on gurneys with oxygen tubes in their noses, people in wheelchairs with IV stands and all the accoutrements common to hospital settings. He later accepted our explanation that it was a place to help people get well but he wasn’t too eager to return soon. The next morning, he and Sarah went to the Science Museum and saw an IMax movie on dinosaurs and then “Cats and Dogs” in the afternoon. Happily, on Friday, our last day in Boston, we all returned to the hospital to see Harvey sitting up in a chair with cather and IV's removed, working on his laptop. James was relieved but wanted to hear Harvey fart before we left.

Finally, the epilog: After a full week of agonizing worry, the pathology report revealed that it was a desmoid tumor. The short version is that it is not cancerous but is possibly recurrent. Harvey will have regular follow-ups but we feel he avoided something much more serious. I was grateful that we were in the states at the time. Thanks to all the supportive well-wishers who were waiting for the news with us.

You live out these real-life dramas, so intense in the moment, and, luckily, sometimes, you can look back at them with some levity, fueled by relief.

Next installment: Week 2.