About 3-ish weeks ago when we were lying in bed, Bryan had his arm around me and felt something. I protested and said it was my rib but he showed me what he was talking about. It was definitely not my rib.
That week I made an appointment to see my OB, have her take a look. She said what she felt was not a concern, but she did want me to have a diagnostic mammogram.
They took images and did an ultrasound. On the ultrasound the mass was clearly visible and not round.
The technician who did the ultrasound was about 6 months pregnant and when she told me I would have to come back for a biopsy, her face looked terrified. Her every word was like an apology, even though she was talking about appointment times and telling me not to wear deodorant or perfume on the day of the procedure.
Fast forward a week, the day of the biopsy. Bryan and I head over and I get to lay on a table while a person who had Dr. in front of his name takes away a piece of me.
We both came away fairly certain he had never seen a live patient before. During the procedure the local anesthetic didn’t work and when he was finished he apologized for hurting me. I kept my eyes closed or on Bryan and didn’t say anything. What could I say with my fists balling up at my sides and my teeth clenched?
Afterward I tried not to think about it. The obligatory 2-3 business day wait for the results wasn’t all that bad, truthfully. During that time I kept busy and distracted. What else could I do? Do you know how grateful I am to have such a fun person to be distracted by? Bryan made it easier to wait. When I’m with him on the couch or in the yard, I feel normal. Less like a ticking time bomb and more like myself.
After the 3 business days, that would be yesterday, I had almost convinced myself that it was nothing. When I got the results, my brain just blurred and shut down. I felt like someone was sucking all the air out of my body while at the same time stepping on me.
I have cancer. I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared. I don’t want to die.
My son, my little buddy, needs his mama. And I need him. I want to see what he will be when he grows up. How he will move through grade school and adolescence. I want to be there for him every step of the way. I don’t want to miss out on anything. Mostly though, I don’t want to burden him with a motherless childhood. I can’t break his little heart like that.
And then there’s Bryan. I can’t wait to see the love of my life every day for the rest of forever. In that sentence, I always thought of forever as being at least 40 more years together, earth-side. Bryan deserves my time, whatever I have left.
The both of them do.
So if I don’t call or text you back please know that I’m with them giving what I have to give now for however long I can give it. I’ll need you though so don’t stop calling me or texting or stopping by if you’re in my hood.
I can’t do this alone. When the shit hits the fan with surgery, which I will have to have, and maybe Chemo, which I may have to have, I’ll need you. All of you.
I don’t know what Stage the cancer is yet. If I’m exceptionally lucky it will not be in my lymph nodes, and that’s what I’m hoping for. I’m hoping for Stage 1. Anything more advanced makes the recovery time longer and the prognosis worse. So, here’s to the best worst news I can get. I’ll find out when I have surgery, which, at this time has not been scheduled.
I’ll keep you posted on it all though.
One last thing worth mentioning - this blog is rated PG: you will see copious amounts of 4 letter words, references to drinking, self-medicating and I may possibly mention the existence of sex. My apologies in advance for offending your delicate sensibilities if any of these items is offensive.
Love and Muah.
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