The mysterious stomach ache continued. I could tell in his eyes that the pain was real. I started trying to get him to let me make him an appointment to see the Dr. But, he was stubborn and kept believing that, whatever it was, if he ignored it long enough, it would go away. I tried to watch and see if there was any kind of pattern to it. I nagged him to go see the Dr. I have to admit that during the six months he complained of pain, even though I was concerned, I was also more than a little ticked off at him. If he was in pain, he should go to the Dr. If he wouldn't go to the Dr., then he should just hush about it.
Then, Ken started throwing up. He hid it from me at first. But it got to the point that nothing he ate would stay down and he started losing weight. Now, Ken was a thin man to start with. He did NOT have any spare pounds to lose. I think that is what finally scared him. He asked me to make him an appointment to see the Dr. I called that day and got an appointment for him to see my internist. He came home that afternoon with a bunch of pills like Prilosec or Zantac, all the ones you can get over the counter now. He took them for about a week.
The pills did seem to ease the pain a little, but Ken was still throwing up after eating. The internist said it would be a good idea to see a gastroenterologist so he could check for an ulcer or something. So, off he went to see another Dr. I asked Ken what the Dr. had said and he said the strangest thing. He asked Ken if he had life insurance. I think that was the first indication that this might be a little more serious than we had thought. It kind of made me sick at my stomach, but I just pushed it to the back of my mind. Doctors see a lot of people during the day. They have to make a lot of chit-chat. I'm sure that's all it was. Anyway, the Dr. set Ken up for a colonoscopy and an endoscopy the following Monday.
Ken told me that I didn't have to go with him, but they were going to put him into a twilight sleep for the procedures, so I figured he would need someone to drive him home. I told my supervisor (I was teaching pre-K at the Baptist Church) that I would need Monday off. We had to take the boys over to a friend's house really early so that they could catch the school bus with them. Then we headed to Erlanger Hospital in Chattanooga. Little did we know how many times over the next two years that we would be making that trip.
They took Ken in and I settled into the waiting room--I think I had a book with me. Anyway, all through the morning, Drs. and nurses would come out and speak to people in the waiting room to let them know how their loved ones had done. I had never met the gastroenterologist, so I didn't know who to look for. Finally, a tall man with glasses came through the doors and called "Mrs. Lunsford?" I raised my hand and waited for him to come and let me know that Ken was okay. He was NOT smiling. He said to me, "Let's step into this conference room". Just so you know, they only ask you into the conference/family rooms if they are about to give you REALLY bad news. But I didn't know that, and I followed him in, oblivious to the fact that our lives were about to be totally and eternally altered.
The Dr. asked me to sit down. He looked at me and asked, "How long has he been sick?" I felt as though he had punched me in the stomach. "About six months", I said, "does he have an ulcer?" "No", he said. . . it wasn't an ulcer. But Ken did have some "suspicious" tissue in the lining of his stomach. (BTW, when they call something, "suspicious", that usually means they already know what it is, but they just can't tell you yet until the biopsies are back). Then the Dr. pulled out a color picture of what I learned was Ken's stomach. Even to my untrained eyes, I could tell that this was something monstrous. It was red and angry-looking. I took a big gulp and asked the Dr., "You've seen this before?" He nodded his head.
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