So over a week has passed since I found out the options I have ahead of me. Will I find a unicorn? Will I find I need surgery and chemo? Will I find out I have to manage cancer in my body for the rest of my life, for however long cancer will let me live? 9 Days to ponder mortality. 9 days of extreme stress, anxiety, trying to pretend nothing is going on, not letting the kid see what is getting at me. 9 days of Hell! There is no other way to describe it.
My heart needs to let out some of my thoughts. My brain needs the thoughts out of it. I need it to end. Needless to say, I do not expect this to be a happy, uplifting post. Consider yourself warned.
So Tuesday I had a biopsy of my adrenal gland. Let me say I never EVER want to see the person who did my biopsy ever again! I can’t state that strong enough. Bedside manner was terrible. I didn’t know my mass on the gland was huge, thanks for letting me know. If my doctor wanted me to know that she would have told me thank you very much. Your description of the procedure was so horrendous the nurse that gave me the mild sedatives came over after and explained it all better to me. (The nurse, oh my gosh he rocked! He qualifies for sainthood in my book). Oh and let’s not forget that the dr that did my procedure didn’t see if I was numbed enough, and we found out through my scream of pain that I wasn’t. Oh and I forgot to add that he hit the bone about the same time. The nurse though, he came through to the other side of the CT to hold my hand and wipe my eyes after that happened. He distracted me and comforted me. He got me through it. Because let me tell you I almost got off that table and said enough is enough after that, it hurt that bad!
So I still don’t have results from that. Tick tock goes the clock. Tick tock my brain and heart jump at any unknown phone call, hoping it is a result being called to me. No luck so far.
Friday I had a PET scan. Thankfully that one was uneventful. Radiated sugar… wooohooo. Looking at everyone else who goes to get it done being these cute old grandmas and grandpas. All having 40-50 years on me. And here I am sitting there at 37 going, why the hell me? Did God forget to do the math right for my lot in life?
And then I see all the people in my life with someone. Please don’t get me wrong, my friends have been amazing. So incredibly amazing and I can’t ask for more. They have blessed me in ways that I don’t know how to ever be grateful enough or say thank you enough. But at the end I am still single. At the end I don’t have someone at home to help with the day to day burdens. I don’t have that one person to go to all my appointments with me. I know my friends would and they have. But it isn’t quite the same. Last time I had someone walking side by side with me. He would take me on dates to forget. He would hold me and kiss me and help the world disappear. And this time I don’t have it. And now the path I have standing ahead of me, I don’t see someone wanting to be my significant other. Who would want the girl that is facing this? Let alone for the second time? Who would want the girl that could lose her hair from chemo? Who would want the burden to stand beside watching someone become ill from the poisons? I just don’t see it. I can’t see it? I am a leaper now. I am an untouchable. I am an undesirable. And this is the lot I am looking ahead to. And it breaks me. It breaks my heart so bad. And there’s not one thing I can do about it. This is my lot.
So here I lay, typing this. Still no closer to knowing what is going on in my body. No closer to knowing if cancer is going to shorten my life in the near future. No closer to having someone beside me holding me. And this is what everything has become.
So the past 9 days, these are the thoughts I have had. Not even touching on my thoughts pertaining to kiddo. That’s a whole other sob story.