Ned Erickson: The Craziest Week Nothing Happened to Me

Aug 8 - texting before Global Leadership Summit

9:24am Ned: Let's get a babysitter and go out to dinner

10:21am Lia: Great! Silo or 6th and vine or willow?

11:15am Lia: Felt a big cyst on my right ovary. Getting ultrasound.

Wait! What?

Lia was at her yearly OB check-up. It was supposed to be a nice, routine visit. The unnecessary kind of visit. When life suddenly turned upside down. The ultrasound looked suspicious. Lia scheduled a meeting with a Gynecological Oncologist for Monday.

Dinner that night was not as light-hearted as originally hoped.

The next three days, which included her birthday, would be awful. Lia explained to me how bad ovarian cancer is. I started freaking out. Earlier that day, my wife was perfectly healthy. Wasn't she? Now, she was dying. But she looks perfectly healthy?

It rained on her birthday. Anna Rose crashed over the handlebars on her bike. We had to eat at home instead of going dancing. Lia, at one point, told me "This is the worst birthday ever." And I'm thinking, what if it's her last?

I was falling apart and beating myself up because I was. I would like to think that when Lia needs me the most, I would be able to be that strong shoulder for her to lean on. It didn't happen that way. Needless to say, it was not my finest hour. Way to step up, Ned. Mmmm Boy. Have mercy.

Well, we got it. Monday, a nearly two hour oncologist appointment brought us hopeful news. Dr. Skinner didn't think it was cancer though she thought the cyst was not in the ovary but in a more sketchy location. Mmm Boy, Have Mercy.

She scheduled the surgery for Wednesday. Tuesday we took a deep breath. Lia's mom drove down from Columbus. She was a lifesaver. Lia went into surgery Wednesday afternoon and about 5:10pm I received the best news possible. The cyst was in the ovary. It was not cancer. And Lia could go home that night.

I met her in recovery. She wasn't winking. Only one eye worked.

Unfortunately, the anesthesia that made Lia loopy also made her nauseous. For the next two hours, I had to watch the poor girl dry heave. Finally, we got her clothes on and carted her to the car. She slept a long time. And woke up hungry. She hadn't eaten food in 61 hours. Holy smokes.

This weekend we went to the mountains. Did some of her favorite things: hiked Bluff Mountain,
visited an art gallery, drove to a vineyard and enjoyed not only a wine tasting but a private tour. We went dancing that night.

The Rise and Shine Band sang her Happy Birthday. It was like making good all the things that went so bad.

And here I am: Nothing happened to me. Still, I feel like I went through the rinse and spin cycle. And now, happy and grateful as I can be, I'm sleeping for the first time in a week. Mercy.