Day 5

Iva woke up on her 5th day in the ICU. Yesterday, they removed the rest of her 7th and 8th ribs, rib 9, and a bunch of soft tissue surrounding that (on her back, left side). They placed a piece of kevlar where they removed the ribs to provide support, protection, etc.

The disappointing part is that the margins were still positive for cancer cells. There are no formed tumors, but there are many many cells completely infecting her chest wall, waiting to become tumors. They cannot take it all out because she needs her chest wall--the muscles and such--to breathe. That is the saddest news. We really were hoping this would eradicate her cancer for a while, that she was be able to breathe, to live, to remember what it is like to be a normal 20 something woman. To be carefree, happy, hopeful again. All this we hoped for. And now, we feel. . . what? Numb. Yes. Angry. Yes. Filled with disbelief. Yes. Devoid of hope. Yes. Waiting to wake from this terrible terrible nightmare. Yes.

The world is full of injustice and tragedy. When you are young, you have the luxury (usually) of thinking it doesn't apply to you. None of us has that luxury any longer.