Diagnosing a Stomach Tumor

Weight Gain Can be Caused by a Tumor

I thought I had gained a few pounds; I tried all kinds of diets, and it seemed that a few even worked, but I never totally lost all the weight. I chalked it up to the fact that sometimes you DO gain weight over any period of time, so I coped quite successfully. Eventually, though, I had to accept I couldn't blame it on my period...

For several summers, my left leg would swell up like crazy; I always attributed this to the heat or "that time of month." One particular day, it seemed my left leg had ballooned and the bloating had also occurred in my left foot. I thought it was unusual, but since I didn't have any pain, I didn't worry.

I finally and reluctantly went to see a doctor. I was so sure it was just bloating; I was confident I'd be given an oral solution, everything would clear up and life would go on as usual.

Diagnosing a Stomach Tumor

After a series of initial tests with no results, my doctor decided to thoroughly check my stomach, and from there, a diagnosis was made. I had a large tumor!

I was shocked and stunned, yet strangely relieved. At least it wasn't a weight problem! I was referred to an area hospital for preliminary X-rays and cat scans, and then referred to a specialist who confirmed the diagnosis.

There were several connected tumors all attached to one central one, and the whole thing was 25-30 lbs! My particular situation was actually life-threatening; my kidneys were shutting down.

Thus began several weeks of seemingly endless X-rays, cat scans, exams, and shots with the longest needles I've ever seen.

The three days before surgery were particularly grueling ones; I had to go on a liquid diet and use an enema to clean out my bowel and bladder. The enema was easy, but not eating for three days really makes you edgy. I would gaze longingly at other people's meals and contemplate grabbing their food. But I controlled myself. I had to.

Preparing for Surgery to Remove a Tumor

Finally, the big day. I thought I'd be in a heightened state of frenzy and terror, but I wasn't. Three days of non-eating had just left me numb.

I was wheeled out on a gurney to the entrance of the operating room. An anesthesiologist gave me a shot of something he said would relax me. It sure did! It wasn't a gradual process at all; I heard a chorus of voices, then I was out!

When I woke up, I was so groggy. A nearby nurse assured me, "It's over, honey. Your operation's done." I was in this tiny hospital room, which was to be my home for a week.

What a long week that turned out to be! I didn't like being around total strangers or sick people. No home cooking, familiar sights or smells, no homey touches. On the plus side, I did get some rest, except for those constant shots and an emergency blood transfusion. I continued on that liquid diet for another week, and endured my roommates' nearly 24-hour TV watching.

Finally, I was allowed to go home. There was still at least six weeks of recuperation, but I'd be at home. Those first three weeks, I didn't feel like doing anything; even eating's a chore! I had to rest after each meal or cleaning. (Sink wash-ups, no showers or baths right away!) I couldn't even go up and down stairs.

There was a catheter tube attached to me and a stint inside me -- the former, to aid and ease my urine flow, the latter, to repair damage to my left kidney. Eventually both these devices were removed. By week four, I had regained some strength and was taking tentative trips up and down stairs. By weeks five and six, I was outdoors and was authorized to return to work by week six.

I've since discovered that many people have large tumors in them and aren't aware they do; if there's no pain the common reaction is, "Oh, I gained a few pounds, or "Oh well, I'll just diet or do more exercise." Had I not had the surgery, I'd be on a kidney dialysis machine, or just plain dead.