Richard

Ever since I walked out the door after spending about an hour with Richard, I've wanted to write about him here. This reinforces the thought that I should write fresh. Oh I went on and on about him in my head as I was driving home, but here it is, almost 4 weeks later and I'm finally dedicating that post to yet another amazing human being I've had the good fortune of encountering since this battle to defeat cancer began.

Richard's name on his card has some fancy initials after his name. LPT. Licenced Physical Therapist. Makes sense. CCT. That one's tougher. Something to do with cancer? Maybe. But even a google search couldn't definitively clear this up. It's obviously nothing to do with Cobb Country or combat control. I'll have to inquire further.

But nothing on his card could have prepared me for the uplifting hour I spent with Richard.

I don't consider myself a negative person and don't feel I need others to buoy me, to maintain a positive outlook. Glass half full kind of girl, that's what I am. But I have to tell you, encountering similar minded folks during this battle is not only refreshing, but essential. You can't think any other way when waging a battle against cancer. And if you're lucky enough to have a health care professional like Richard on your team, you won't.

Upon leaving my appointment with him, he had asked me to call my surgeon's office, to let them know I had been seen by him. It was their referral that led me there. Dialing at a red light, I reached Jacki at my surgeon's office. (she deserves a post of her own as well, and has gotten one, in my head, many times!) I was glad to reach Jacki cuz I just knew she would get it. She would understand my elation. After offering the obligatory confirmation of my consult, I had to let her know how appreciative I was.

She wasn't surprised. More shrink than PT, Richard spent more time getting into my head. While his job is to make sure I keep my body on the right physical track during my course of treatment, he's obviously aware of the power of the right mindset and dug to make sure it was there.

I like to think he didn't have to dig too deep to find someone ready to fight, ready to tackle this cancer head on. I know that my resolve to win this fight has been greatly strengthened by the love and support of my family and friends. Here in PA and far far away.

Richard did what he was supposed to do: made sure I had a compression sleeve for flying to Winnipeg the next week. Though as he explained to me, the sleeve probably wasn't necessary as flying wouldn't cause lymphedema. But as it was requested, he would provide it and instruct me on its use.

He gave me a thorough lesson on the lymphatic system  and the cause of lymphedema. Germs. The lymphatic system fights germs. When altered by the removal of lymph nodes which in my case was three, it may not function as normal.The more nodes removed, the greater the impact. Richard wasn't the first health care professional to tell me that my risk of developing lymphedema is slim to none based on the minimal number of nodes removed.

I was advised on how to wash my hands and arms three times a day, like a surgeon. I was given a sample of a topical antibiotic and advised to carry it with me and apply it to any cuts, hangnails and even mosquito bites that appear on my left arm.

We went over the precautions I should be taking with my left arm, and I received pages of literature on the subject of lymphedema.

I was also advised to think about how I was planning to live the next 45 or 50 years of my life, because that was my future. Defeating the cancer and continuing on. Probably not his exact words. Like I said, it's been almost a month since I was there. But it wasn't an 'if' I beat the cancer. It was all about doing what I had to do to get it done.

We talked about our upcoming trip to Winnipeg for Pier and Nate's wedding and why I hadn't told Marc's side of the family. And when I was planning to tell them. I said I wanted to tell them before we left Winnipeg but after the wedding, which left a small window. He asked why. I said I wanted to be able to tell them in person, and by them, I mean Pier, Manon and Nathan.  And I wanted to get a hug. Another hug. The hug that knew. If that makes any sense. Whether or not they felt the same way as I think I would, I believe I would like to have another opportunity to hug someone after knowing that. Rather than seeing them, hugging them, having them go away, then receiving the news of their diagnosis. Again, just me.

I really don't know if I've done Richard justice here. I feel that I haven't. But more than painting a picture for others reading this, I just wanted, in this case, to record a memory for myself. I spent an amazing hour with this person, walked out feeling even more positive and upbeat, and am grateful for all of it.

I don't have to look hard to find a silver lining in my cancer chapter. Here's another one. Thanks Richard.