I have cancer. Well, actually, it's plural. I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer on December 6, 2012, and breast cancer on January 24, 2013. So I have cancers. Boy, what a colossal statement. It is absolutely ludicrous and insane how three words can literally alter a person's vision or rather version of the future. Mine is so grey now, muddied by the uncertainty of every single thing I don't know. When someone talks about plans for June, or August -- all I can think is will I be here? Also, my post title implies there is some cohesion between me and this cancer. No frickin' way. I hate this mass cohabitating inside my body. However, until my doctor feels we can safely be separated without the anxiety and angst that separation can cause in normal situations, we've got to just get along. In my case, the anxiety and angst revolves around the scary possibility of not making it through whatever is coming. So a family member and even some close friends have suggested that I work my way through this new phase in my life by returning to my first love. Writing.
So here I am again trying to write like the writer I was supposed to be when I grew up. Well, I'm grown up now, and nothing is as it should be. But who am I to say? I have a story tell but to tell you the truth, I have absolutely no idea where to begin. So, as trite as it may seem I think I will start in the middle and then follow whatever direction moves me. Here we go...
Once upon a time there was a girl. And this girl spent most of her adult life trying to get back to the beginning. A beginning where she was shapely, popular and googled at by the dudes. I wasn't necessarily, always comfortable, with the latter attention from the guys, but who am I fooling? -- I'm a gal and like any gal the attention puffed up my esteem a bit. As an adult I let my insecurities dictate my weight and spent my late 30's, 40's and early 50's really, really fat. I got diabetes. I got high cholesterol. I got the high blood pressure. I tried a million and one diets and nothing stuck. I'd make it a month or two on the popular fad diet at the time and then completely crash. Then in May of 2012 Divine intervention stepped in and took over. I was taking some stuff out of the back of my car and I heard, "Hey you fat old lady!" Seriously? The devil kids next door were hanging out of the window like monkeys in a zoo, and the object of their affection? -- yeah me. Little bastards. Anyway, I'm not even exaggerating, I finished unloading my car, then got back into it and headed to Vision Quest, a new gym over in University Place. I couldn't do anything about being old, but I didn't have to look like it. So I joined. Club number three or four. I've lost count. But this time it was different for me. The gym advertised a contest patterned after the show "Biggest Loser" that ran for 3 months most of year and two months beginning in October that finished right before Christmas. I joined the contest. My competitive nature took over and I actually stayed on path. I got a trainer for a cheap deal, and I showed up for the 30 minutes of torture two times a week and sometimes three with the trainer. When I wasn't meeting with her I had a private workout with moi doing either cardio or weights or both. And the weight came off. By the end of my second contest I'd lost about 60 pounds. I was just getting ready to join my third contest and preparing myself mentally and physically for losing the rest of my weight and achieving my goal. You know...I don't recall feeling that good about an accomplishment in a long, long time.
My knees gave me a lot of trouble during my work outs so my trainer suggested I try a supplement called JointFlex. I tried it and within four days I developed chronic, manic, insane itching all over my body. It was relentless. I stopped taking the supplement and the itching subsided a bit, then returned like a mofo. I had welts all over my body. My sleep was spotty throughout the night and in the morning I'd have blood spots on my night clothes from unconsciously scratching at my legs, arms and stomach all night long. It was hell! My doctor prescribed a lot of different drugs over the counter and prescription for allergies but nothing worked. About two weeks into purgatory, I saw my doctor again for an annual physical. I knew something was wrong when brown urine filled the container the nurse asked me to pee in. Oh my. When Dr. Garner, my primary doctor, came in to the room the concerned look she didn't even try to hide were my red flags. I think the fact that my eyes and skin were yellowish had something to do with that as well. Doc immediately scheduled me for an ultrasound that Wednesday and an Endoscopy that Thursday. When I woke up fom the Endoscopic procedure a doctor informed me that I had pancreatic cancer. All hell broke loose inside my body and I think I could have flooded the room with my tears. To this day I will be grateful to my nephew, Verdell, for going with me that day. He held my hand while I cried, and I held his while he cried.
My annual mamogram was on January 16, 2013. Due to something showing up in the film (of course), they scheduled me for an ultrasound on January 17th and a biopsy January 18th. I was informed I had breast cancer by Dr. Garner on January 24th. I started chemo therapy for the pancreatic cancer on January 14th. 2013 started off being pretty F'd up!
I guess that is more than enough of this tale for one day.
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