January 12, 2026
Hi Friends,
If you’ve been following my lung cancer journey, you might remember the reason I have not had my left lower lobe removed: my greatest fear in life is anesthesia.
When I was in my early 20’s, I had a life-threatening reaction during what was supposed to be a same-day procedure. I stopped breathing, had to be ventilated, and ended up in the hospital for six weeks. They didn’t keep medical records back then, and all I was told was, “You had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia.” After that, I avoided it completely.
About 20 years later, when my baby died, I needed emergency surgery. They were able to do it without intubation. The anesthesia itself went okay—but in recovery they gave me Dilaudid for pain, and I had a severe reaction. That experience made my general anxiety (and my phobia of pills and procedures) even worse.
So for decades, my strategy was simple: avoid, avoid, avoid.
I’ve done CBT and exposure therapy for other fears, and it helped—but you can’t exactly “practice” intubation or anesthesia drugs. And because of this fear, anytime I needed a procedure that’s normally done under sedation, I had to search far and wide to find someone willing to do it with me fully awake.
This year alone I had FOUR procedures that are usually done under sedation—colonoscopy, endoscopy, epidural, and lung biopsy—FULLY AWAKE. People think I’m nuts. Doctors can’t believe it. (Especially the one who did the endoscopy. 😅) But you don’t do that unless you’re truly terrified of sedation.
And then came lung surgery.
Apparently no one wants to do that with me awake. Go figure. 🤣 And believe me, I asked. I even found 13 medical journal articles describing lung surgery performed without intubation and general anesthesia… but they were in Italy and China, and the doctors here didn’t think it was a good idea. So I kept refusing.
I was first offered lung surgery in October 2023—before the cancer was even confirmed with a biopsy—and I said, “I need to talk to an anesthesiologist first.”
Have you ever tried to talk to an anesthesiologist more than a few minutes before surgery? It’s like that old saying: “You can’t get a show on Broadway until you’ve already had a show on Broadway.” Apparently, you can’t talk to an anesthesiologist unless and until you’re already scheduled.
My immunologist tried to get me a consult, but she couldn’t even figure out how to place the referral—because no one asks for this. They just… don’t talk to patients in advance.
I ran into a similar wall when I wanted to talk to the interventional radiologist before my lung biopsy. But my persistence paid off. He met with me and said, “In 37 years, no one has ever asked to talk to me before a procedure.”
He explained everything—the benefits, the risks, the possible side effects—well in advance, instead of moments before when I would’ve been flooded with terror. And yes, I did get a pneumothorax… but because it had been explained ahead of time, I was mentally prepared. I stayed calm. And a hospital chaplain stayed with me his entire shift while we waited (eight extra hours!) to see if it would resolve without a chest tube. Thankfully it did.
(Shout out to chaplains and clergy everywhere: you have been my rock through this journey, and I love you for it.)
So back to anesthesia. I pretty much gave up hope that I’d ever get an anesthesiology consult in advance. My brother (who has since passed away) was an anesthesiologist and he hated talking to people—which is probably why he chose anesthesia. 🤣
I did find a clinic at Stanford that would see me without a surgery date. They were thorough and kind… but the comfort level was basically: “Anesthesia and monitoring are safer now than they were in the 80’s.”
Okay. Cool. But I needed more than that.
I wanted to speak to the anesthesiologist who would be doing MY procedure. I was told, “That’s impossible.” I swear it would be easier to meet the Wizard of Oz than an anesthesiologist.
Until now.
A couple of weeks ago I met with Dr. Justin Thomas at Eisenhower Medical Center in Rancho Mirage. He’s one of the few interventional pulmonologists doing a newer procedure for lung cancer called PEF ablation. To learn more about it, here’s a video where he explains it.
I first heard about Dr. Thomas on a Monday, called his office, and was told the wait would be many, many months and I’d need a referral. I saw my PCP Wednesday, he submitted the referral Thursday, and Friday I got a call offering me an appointment on Monday. He fast-tracked me because of my stage.
Dr. Thomas was warm, calm, funny, and incredibly down to earth. (If there are any doctors reading this: those things impress me far more than your degree. I’d rather you went to clown school than Harvard. 🤣)
He spent a full hour explaining everything and patiently answering all our questions. (My dear friend Lynda came with me as an extra set of ears.)
At the end I said, “I really like you, and IF you can do this without intubation and general anesthesia, sign me up.” He explained why he couldn’t, so I joked, “Well, get me a funny Jewish anesthesiologist and I’ll consider it.” 😂
Be careful what you ask for…
Dr. Thomas personally called me afterward to explain why he felt it was important to do the ablation as soon as possible—especially since I’ve been refusing the other treatment options. (When is the last time a doctor actually called you? For me, it was eight years ago.)
He scheduled me for January 22 and told me I’d be hearing from Dr. Michael Kessler, the anesthesiologist who works regularly with him on these procedures.
Soon after, I got a text from Dr. Kessler saying he would call me.
And he did.
And then he spent 45 minutes—unpaid—walking me through everything.
Not “You’ll be fine.” Not “It’s safe now.” He educated me.
He explained exactly what would happen from the moment I arrive until I wake up. What medications would be used, when, why, and how they work. He walked me through the procedure step by step and explained what he would be doing and what Dr. Thomas would be doing.
He even addressed my worst-case fears—stopping breathing, problems with paralytics, ending up on a ventilator—and he promised that if anything went sideways, he would keep me fully sedated and comfortable.
And yes—he also promised I could wear underpants (I hate being naked!) and hold my lucky charm in my hand.
That conversation shifted my nervous system from profound terror to deep peace.
Kindness instead of impatience. Education instead of dismissal. Humor instead of “calm down.” It didn’t erase every fear—but it gave me something I’ve been begging for my whole life: understanding, clarity, and a sense that I’m safe with the person actually holding the reins.
I’ve tried everything for medical trauma anxiety—CBT, DBT, EMDR, IFS, acupuncture, breathing techniques, psychotherapy, Reiki, somatic experiencing, tapping, and more. Helpful in many ways… but none of it touched this fear the way a calm, thorough conversation with the actual anesthesiologist did.
Why doesn’t medicine do this more? Maybe it’s hard for people without anxiety to grasp what anxiety actually feels like. Maybe they don’t know what to do. But I’m telling you: this is what’s missing.
All the years of dietary perfection did nothing for my anesthesia fear… but a funny Jewish anesthesiologist did. 🤣
I really hope to have Dr. Kessler on my show so you can meet him too, so stay tuned.
And yes—I’ll be honest—I’m still afraid I’ll chicken out at the last minute. My oncology team has told me this treatment, while FDA approved, “is not the standard of care.” But everything in medicine was once not standard… until it was. This option feels less invasive, less painful, and (for me) more doable than what I’ve been pushing away.
Mostly, I’m afraid of doing nothing. They keep telling me that at Stage 3 there may still be a path to cure, but at Stage 4 the options become more limited.
I keep wishing my life could be like the season finale of Dallas… where I wake up and this was all just a dream.
Quick health update: I’m still dealing with painful, ongoing GI issues. I’m working on them and I’ll keep you posted.
Thank you for being here with me—through the fear, the humor, the mess, and the hope.
Love & Kale,
💜 Chef AJ