(19-03-12) Hospital Discharge

I am still in the hospital. I have informed all doctors that i am leaving tomorrow at noon, and they all tell me the same thing: they will not sign off on the discharge, so i am leaving AMA (against medical advice). What this means is that my insurance company now has the right to refuse to pay for any of these procedures or treatment, and i will be fighting this battle later. But i have to go.

Dr. Arcovedo, who calls the shots in my case, still hasn’t cleared me to eat solid foods. First, it was because i needed to work my way up to clear liquids and then full liquids as my stomach was recovering from the ulcer operation … and i understand that, as frustrating as it has been for me. But yesterday, days after i have shown to tolerate all liquids, he refused to approve solid foods because i was hiccuping. I tried explaining it was a nervous hiccup, and he told me it was because my stomach wasn’t ready for solid foods. So, i seriously have not eaten food since last Tuesday at 1:30.

This hospital experience has been like many others back when i went through cancer treatment, and i am sure i will blog about this week in more detail at a later time. But for now, i just want all of you to know that i am returning to Mexico tomorrow to get half a week of more treatment before returning to AZ.

(19-03-07) Food

Dr. Barrera is out of the country. I seriously am NOT having good luck recently with getting follow-up information from doctors who perform surgery on me. Fuck, how i miss Dr. Matatov right about now.

Here is the plan outlined by Kristina, Dr. Barrera’s P.A.

  1. There will be no food or drink today, either. This is non-negotiable. She said the hole in my stomach/small intestine was pretty big (even though the report said it was less than 1cm), and they covered that hole with an omental flap, which I understand to just be a clump of fatty tissue. They need to give that time to make sure that the flap keeps the hole closed. There was also a lot of cloudy, gooey liquid circulating around my intestines and abdomem, liquid that should have been clear and smooth.
  2. Tomorrow at 9:00, they will remove this drain from my throat. This 40-centimeter hose has been taking mucus and fluid out of my stomach ever since the surgery.
  3. IF, at 10:00am, i am not having additional pain in my stomach from the drain removal, i will be allowed to have water and clear soup broth.
  4. IF, at noon, my stomach handled the soup broth adequately, i will be allowed to have non-clear liquids: jello, yogurt, applesauce, etc.
  5. IF my stomach continues to go all day Saturday handling the non-clear liquids, they MIGHT allow me to have solid food for dinner. Kristina was quite reticent about agreeing to that part; she wants me to wait until Sunday before eating solid foods. So, i know she just said Saturday night to appease me, but I’m likely not going to get anything solid until Sunday.

(19-03-06) A New Kind of Pain

With the exception of some dusky light streaming in through the window, the room was mostly dark. Boiled cabbage was cooling on my neck, chest, back, and legs. I took off my glasses, paused Orphan Black, and closed my eyes to see if i could sneak in a quick nap.

I awoke to the feeling of Botas scampering across my chest. In hindsight, that 4-pound ball of cuteness probably barely grazed me, but in this moment it felt like someone dropped him from the ceiling straight onto my windpipe. A ripple of searing pain coursed through my entire chest. I’m used to abdominal cramping at this point, so i ripped the cabbage wrapping off my body and headed to the bathroom… but the second i sat on the toilet, i knew that wasn’t the problem. The pain went from 2 to 8 in a matter of seconds. It felt like something had exploded inside me, and it was becoming increasingly harder to breathe.

Is it my gall bladder? No, that’s to the right.

My appendix?? No, that’s further down.

Where is my small intestine? Did it rupture?

Is this what an ulcer feels like? Did i suddenly develop an ulcer?

I wasn’t sure, but the pain was continuing to build, and i went into panic mode. I reached for the intercom.

“I need a doctor in here.”

Every step i took made the pain worse. I leaned over the bed and grunted out breaths and obnoxious noises, waiting for staff. I called for a doctor again on the intercom and pushed the buzzer for assistance, in case no one was in the nursing station when i first called for help.

By the time Nahaliel arrived (which was probably only two minutes later), i was at a full-on 10-level pain, positioned on all fours on the bed, crying, and drooling. I tried to explain the stomach pain to him, but his spotty English and my seering pain made our conversation unfruitful… and i lost my temper when he told me to relax.

“I can’t relax. I’m in a lot of fucking pain!”

“I know,” he said. I’ll be apologizing to him later for cursing at him.

Over the course of the next half hour, staff brought a series of pain meds via shots, drip bags, pills, and oral liquids. I didn’t even ask what they gave me, just took all of it. Most of it barely seemed to have any impact. There weren’t any doctors on site during this time, either, so they had to keep calling Dr. Rubio, Sr. at home for guidance and clearance. It took almost two hours for the pain to get down to a 5. Luckily, one of the meds was making me drowsy, so i was looking forward to sleeping through the rest of the pain … but then, almost as soon as i started to feel legitimate relief, the rupturing screams inside my stomach began building again.

By this time, it was after 8:00. I rang for assistance and asked Nurse Paulina if i could talk to Dr. Smith.

“Dr. Smith, something is wrong. I think something ruptured inside my stomach.”

She asked me a series of questions and checked my stomach with her stethoscope. More pain meds in drip bags, more crying on my end, more phone calls to Dr. Rubio Sr, and then Dr. Smith came back with Dr. Campo, the surgeon i hadn’t seen since the first day at the clinic, when he put in my port.

“Tarah, we’d like you to go get some x-rays and a CT scan.”

My first thought was, fuck, how much is this gonna cost me? I was immediately pissed at myself for even caring about that, when clearly there was a bigger issue here.

“Can i go tonight?”

They called Mario, one of the bilingual drivers, to come to the clinic and take me to Imagen Radiologica Integral. I didn’t even change – just threw my robe on over my shirt and shorts that still smelled like boiled cabbage, and added slippers to my socks. Pink shirt, black shorts with a purple stripe, blue robe, red and white socks, blue and gray house shoes, a red/yellow/green Jamaican hat. Not a single thing matched, so you KNOW i was consumed with pain if i was letting anyone take me out in public like that. Getting in and out of the car was brutal; every time i had to move my stomach in any direction, stabbing pains coursed throughout the area. Every pot hole, every speed bump caused similar agony, and i cried the entire ride. The crying made it even harder to breathe, and at one point, i think i started to hyperventilate. When we walked up to the imaging place, and i saw the line, i REALLY started to cry. We were going to be there a while.

It was almost midnight when we returned to the clinic. I don’t want to go to sleep. What if i don’t wake up? I assumed no one would even look at the x-ray results until the next morning, and i was prepared to stay up all night until Dr. Godinez arrived to work between 7-8, so imagine my surprise when Dr. Smith opened my door just five minutes later.

“You have a perforation in your abdomen.” “You’re gonna need a laparoscopy. ” “Emergency surgery.” “Do you have insurance?” “Dr. V, from the lab, loves cats. She’s going to take Botas while you’re gone, so you don’t have to worry about him.”

She said other things, but this was what i heard and remembered. I requested to go to a hospital in San Diego instead of Mexico, for financial reasons, and she said that could be arranged. They called Adrian, the clinic’s main chauffeur, and i quickly packed a bag while waiting. Poor Botas. He knew something was up. When Paulina came to help me pack and change, we both watched Botas scale the entire shower curtain, then remain up at the top, staring down at us. “Botas, come down from there. Your foster mom is going to be okay; you don’t need to stress. Yo te amo.” I think he understood because he scooted down the curtain and headed for his food, while i headed out the door.

* * *

It is now 4:25am. I have been at this hospital in San Diego for over three hours. Morphine and fluids are infiltrating my system, and i just got back from a CT scan, which showed a perforation in my bowels that is causing free air to circulate all around my abdomen. They are making arrangements to prep me for surgery later this morning. It’s an inpatient procedure, so i will be here for several days. Kyana is my emergency contact, so she’ll have details about my surgery results before i even will. It might be a day or two before i am capable of providing an update myself, but I’ll do my best to keep you all posted.

(19-02-19) Test Results

Get out the tissues, and take a seat.

Some background information, before I get started.

  • A normal-sized cancer cell is 1cm. What this means is that cancer cells smaller than 1cm are not really cause for concern (remember that we all have cancer cells in our bodies), but larger ones are because that means they’re active and on the prowl to kill my healthy cells.
  • A lesion is an area of abnormal tissue. Lesions can be cancerous or benign; in my case, I am only referring to cancerous lesions.
  • When I mention nodes, I’m specifically referring to lymph nodes that have cancer in them. As you may recall, back when I had my mastectomy, I had 21 lymph nodes removed, and they found cancer in 20 of them. So even back in 2015, my cancer was quickly moving throughout my lymphatic system, trying to get to other places.
  • “Necrosis” essentially means “death,” so when I say a node or a lesion shows necrosis, it means the cancer cell activity is dying off. (It’s basically what those TNF numbers are showing each week; these reports just illustrate that a different way.) This is what we want to see happen.



3 nodes: 2.2×1.5cm, 1cm, 1.2x1cm


1 node: 0.8cm



multiple nodes less than 0.5cm

1 node: 2×1.3cm

1 lesion: 1.9×1.4cm


The lesion is GONE.



2 lesions: 1.8×1.4cm and 4.5×1.9cm


The first one has reduced in size to 1.2cm and is showing signs of necrosis. The second one – the biggest one in all of my body, actually – is GONE.


The lesion in my L5 is still there, and it’s the same size. However, a hernia protrusion that used to be there is GONE.


It’s still pretty inflamed from my hip replacement surgery, and PET scans can’t always differentiate between inflammation and cancer cell activity. With that said, there are no new spots indicating activity in that area.


I never had the chance to get an MRI of my brain before I came here, so we didn’t know if the cancer had gone to my brain yet. I was sure it hadn’t. I was wrong. There is currently one tiny lesion in my occipital lobe, measuring in at 1.8mm. There is not too much edema (swelling around the tissue from the fluid in the brain), and it’s showing signs of necrosis.

The only piece of bad news I got from these test results today is that I have a stone in my gall bladder, which is why I have been feeling slight pain/pressure there at times. Dr. Rubio, Sr. said that I will likely need an emergency surgery to have that removed at some point, so I need to pay attention to that from here on out.

Are you crying yet? … because I certainly am.