Peter King: The tumor was malignant — but then it was gone

Three years ago this week, I had what I’ve called my “unexpected medical adventure.” As I described to readers then, it was a life-altering experience with a very good ending.

It all began innocuously enough, with a routine endoscopy for acid reflux in the summer of 2017 by my gastroenterologist, Dr. Michael Barth. As expected, the procedure turned up nothing, and Barth simply prescribed a medication, which I took regularly. Over the next few years, I had few symptoms, and put off my five-year follow-up endoscopy. 

Finally, at Barth’s insistence, I scheduled another endoscopy in March 2023. I had no concern. Just closing the loop. Just another test guys my age go through. Imagine my surprise when I woke up from the procedure and Barth told me that he’d found a protrusion in my stomach wall. While he thought it was benign, he recommended that I see Dr. Arvino Trinidade, a specialist at Northwell, who scheduled a biopsy at Long Island Jewish hospital.

Melissa Zimmerman, a retired Nassau County Police Department detective who’d been on my security detail when I was in Congress, offered to drive me and Rosemary to the hospital. Before I was taken into the operating room, Trinidade told me he thought there was nothing there. But when I woke up, he told me there was a tumor, and it was probably malignant. Four days later, Barth and Trinidade called to confirm it. But they were confident of a good outcome, and told me the surgery would be done at LIJ by Dr. Matthew Weiss, a premier cancer surgeon. 

That afternoon, Weiss called and told me I should be confident of complete success. He casually told me to “enjoy the weekend.” That evening, Rosemary and I had dinner at an Italian restaurant in Manhattan with Zimmerman and her husband, Lance.

The following week, I had appointments at Northwell, saw my cardiologist in Manhattan to get his sign-off on the operation, did several radio shows at the WABC-AM studios in Manhattan and attended a political dinner at King Umberto’s in Elmont. I told almost nobody about the upcoming surgery. With a day to go, I began a liquid diet, with Jell-O being the closest thing to solid food. 

Early Monday morning, Zimmerman again drove us to the hospital. By 6:30 I was ready for showtime. Lying on a gurney with an intravenous tube in my arm, I was wheeled into the operating room, a science fiction-style enclosure crowded with doctors, nurses, bright lights and a table filled with knives and scissors. An epidural was painlessly inserted in my spine, and an anesthesia mask placed over my face. 

The next thing I knew, I was in the recovery room, and Rosemary was telling me that Weiss said that all had gone well. I had no significant pain — unless I moved or reached for something. Each day the pain receded, and I was able to walk a little more. When I was discharged the following Saturday, I walked from the hospital to the car. 

At home I was able to eat regularly, felt nothing more than soreness at the incision site and, after a week or so, was outside, walking a few more blocks each day. As the doctors had predicted, all follow-up tests showed complete success. 

I recounted much of this to readers at the time. Now, having had three years to reflect and put it all in perspective, I appreciate more than ever how fortunate I’ve been: Barth urging me to get the “routine” endoscopy; Trindade and Weiss being ultimate professionals; and having strong family support from Rosemary; my son, Sean; my daughter, Erin; and my sister, Barbara, who’s a nurse. There were also the friends who took the time to visit me in the hospital or call to wish me luck. 

I’ve also become increasingly aware of the many people who receive much more severe diagnoses than I had, which do not end well. I was also fortunate to have access to outstanding medical care at a first-rate hospital. (To the naysayers and critics, I didn’t have any congressional or federal health insurance.) I’m also grateful that I broke loose from the traditional Irish suspicion and distrust of doctors and hospitals. 

Yes, I’m a lucky guy!

Peter King is a former congressman, and a former chair of the House Committee on Homeland Security. Comments? pking@ liherald.com.