Farewell My Lovely

Scheduling today...surgery is tentatively set for Nov. 12...radical hysterectomy...it all comes out.

The biopsy showed Grade 2 cells...middle of the road, but my uterus is a bit bigger than a baseball. Further review will tell whether the new surgeon thinks robotic surgery is feasible. The current oncologist admits he doesn't have enough experience to feel comfortable trying to remove one that big with the DiVinci robot at the cancer center. I appreciate his candor.

I have an elevated level in the blood test, but he's not sure that it's not caused by the fibroids. It does tell him he needs to check the pelvic lymph nodes closely upon surgery. Since staging will not be done until then, I just have to wait and see what turns up.

Still...my mental image is that the surgery will remove everything and all will be well.

Pride Goeth Before the Paperwork

Think not?

Bare your financial soul and odd-ball family dynamics to a non-profit seeking assistance with mega-medical expenses when health-care insurance is beyond your reach and you can’t afford all of the out-of-pocket charges on your own despite the fact that you show up at work every dang day.

Please don’t get me wrong.

IF they choose me (pick me…pick me) I will be grateful beyond words…beyond pride quite bluntly.

Yet…it has taken an emotional toll to gather it all up and put it all out there for non-profit scrutiny.

Is it 5 o’clock yet?

I needa margarita…or…some JD onna rox…or a massage…or…

A hug.

Here's one to Pride...

Another to paperwork...

And, last, but damned not least...

A huge one to Life.

The Dark Path

They sneak in, yanno.

The dark things you stuff behind the sofa when you're awake and keeping yourself busy.

The OMG's...the "what if I waited too long's"...the "I don't wanna do this" thoughts that tickle the mind at night.

Gotta keep a lid onnit...hold it in...stuff it down.

Can't let them be afraid...the family...they worry enough already.

(Crap...didn't I do this once already when Jim died????)

sonofabitch.

It's OK...it'll be OK.

Oncology doc and my research say it's treatable...curable...rip the bastard out and all will be well.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

To life.

A Womb with a View

Ultra-sound tomorrow.

Oncologist needs to see how big the garage door needs to be and whether it will be robots or fingertips deposing the toad king from the throne.

They're also gonna poke me and take a few million blood samples.

Wheeeee...I get to be a pin cushion.

Ain't life a kick inna pants.

That's Life

That's life

I tell ya, I can't deny it,

I thought of quitting baby,

But my heart just ain't gonna buy it.

And if I didn't think it was worth one single try,

I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly

(Frank Sinatra)

 

So, it's done...told my kids...they took it 'bout as I expected...some tears...some hugs...they need time to process this. DD told the GrandMonkey. My Handyman has 2 more of the 3 to tell.

Myself...I'm emotionally wiped...telling people...staying up beat...walking the walk and talking the talk...I'm just plain tired and I've only been at this for 6 days.

How do they do it? Those who have a long forecast before them.

Hell...I'm whinin' 'about the 2 pills I have to take...one big ass vitamin (pre-natal because the oncologist says they're better) and the blood pressure meds (cuz he won't operate until it comes down). There's also the analgesics for "discomfort", but those are PRN at appropriate intervals. What if I had handfuls of them?

Got one of those 7 day pill box thingies as a reward for being a big girl and taking my flue/pneumonia shots like a trooper. (that damned pneumonia shot made my arm sore clear up to my neck...whine...whine...whine...I'll have a little cheez with that please) Open I took them...closed I didn't. Geez.

OK...I'm just tired...I feel like crap...tomorrow will be better with some sleep and the reduced stress of having told those who need to be told.

It's life, yanno?

Day 5 begins with anxiety.

Today I tell my chidren...I seriously don't want to do this...they've been through enough losing their dad...despite my plan to outlive the cancer, they cannot hlep but go there even if its for just the briefest moment...I hate putting them through the stress.

I can only hope that as they see that I am confident as to the path and the outcome, they will also relax and be reassured.

The harder parts of this journey is telling those who care and the financial fallout fromt treatment. Because I have some small means of self-payment, I qualify for no financial assistance.

Survival of this cancer is still likely to leave my offspring saddled with unpaid medicals bills 20 years from now since my plan is is to live a long life beyond the removal of this festering bastard from my body.

Alas, it is yet another of those thing that is what it is.

I can waste my time and energy fretting or I can hitch up my boots, put on my big girl panties and get on with living life.

I choose life.

Hey Now Here We Go

And it's hey now here we go

D-J don't you play nothing slow

Keep those girls out on the floor

Gotta make 'em wanna come back for more.

Been here since the sun went down

Be here when it comes back around

Worked all week it's time to play

Gonna get a little bit sideways...

(Dierks Bently ~ Sideways)

Children's Charities Cancer Research and Treatment Center.

That's what it says on the building.

The waiting room though is filled with adults...I am not in the children's section...I say thank the stars for that for the kids...it's enough THEY have to deal with their own cancer...they don't need to see adults with it.

There's the elderly man in the golf cap with no hair beneath; the woman my mother's age with small tufts of hair here and there; most heart capturing of all...the beautiful young woman/girl with the bright red scarf artfully wrapped around her head...

It was clear to me that I was "different".

My own cancer has, most likely, a prognosis entirely unlike theirs.

Uterine cancer is typcially confined by the boundaries of the uterus. In it's design to protect the baby growing within, it also defines the boundaries for the cancer doing the same.

As I begin my own journey on this path, I get to have a white knight who goes in to forcefully remove the bumpy arsed toad squatting within its cocooning walls..to rip the evil bastard from the castle and save the damsel in distress.

And as relieved as I am for myself, I cannot help but wonder at the long term for each of these other folks passing through the doors of the building marked Children's Charitites Cancer Research and Treatment Center.

It is humbling.

I wish them life.

Flutterby's

Day 4 begins with flutterbys and nothing in the pot or on the pad.

WTH? For week upon week it's like the great flood and now...nothing...nada...zip...zilch...zero.

I'm nervous, but not afraid.

They've already given me the answer.

Today is a matter of stage and degree...along with the ever so popular joy of the feet in the air thingy. Geez...I guess I'm gonna hafta get used to that. UGH.

What I need to know next is what they're going to do to evict the evil squattor taking up residence down south.

Soooo....the Handyman and I will together do the do, spend time by the river and have dinner with friends.

What happens next is what happens next.

To Life.

In Other News

Day 3 and H1N1 has come to Casa del Outlaw.

DD's BF's little girl.

It's official.

What else could I do?

She couldn't go back to mommy's...there's a 6 week old baby there.

He had no where to take her other than his alky dad's place.

I don't think so.

What was I to say...."I'm sorry....I have cancer...I can't take the risk"...that's not exactly the way I planned on letting them know.

Besides...I'm not on chemo...there's been no radiation done to attack my immune system...I haven't even had my first oncology consult yet. (that's tomorrow)

With care it should be fine...other than UC I'm healthy...in fact, I've felt better today than I have in 2 weeks.

On the other hand...I'm having issues with food.

Tastes like dog food or cardboard.

WTF is up with that?

Nerves I reckon.

Maybe after tomorrow.

I can't NOT think about it...eff it all...it's always there skulking about and peering around corners.

Cancer.

Bastard.

My tikki friend says it's all that bitch Eve's fault. (that made me laugh)

She also says she's a praying woman, that she has praying wimmin friends and that her daddy always said praying wimmin get the job done.

Damn you, woman, for making me cry.

Thank you for being my friend...you lift me up when I can't and boot kick me inna arse when I need it. You know where the deepest wells are, you'd beat the bastard that hurt me and you'd sit in jail with me if I get caught.

Can't ask for better than that.

To friends in low places.

The Only Easy Day is Yesterday...

"Life is not complicated and it is not fair, Randy Pausch might have said. It's just hard sometimes." from the Washington Post.

Randy Pausch I am not...

...no last lecture

...no million $ book deal

...no TV interview with a famous journalist...

Only me...no role model for the masses (I'd screw up the job anyway)...just me...

Josie...

Trying to figure out how to do this with some small sense of spirit and grace.

Grace.

Not a word normally associated with me.

Bull inna china shop...yeah...not grace.

Truth is I only know one way to do this.

Stand and deliver.

Highwayman, pistols raised, boots in the mud, standing staunch before the demon that would drag him down.

What the hell do I know?

It's only day 2.

Who knows how I will feel on day 22...222...or 2222.

But, I intend to stand for them all.

Mother took the news quietly, tears in her eyes. What a damn thing to have to tell your 80 year old mother.

Asked a few questions.

Wanted to know what I thought my attitude was going to be.

"I'm sad, Mom, but I'm not afraid and I'm not freaking out."

What good would it do anyway?

Won't change what is.

I can only wait, find out what the facts are and work from there.

This type of cancer...

cancer...

cancer...

(ugly word no matter how many time you type it)

is generally, successfully treatable.

There is always...hope.

And, so it goes...

Things change...the world turns on a dime...as does the flavor of this blog.

I did not expect today to be the day.

8:15 am - The Phone

"Dr. W. is in the office today. He'd like to talk to you about your pathology."

Pathology...

Not Lab Results...

Pathology.

8:40 - On the Road

To work.

I need to work...refocus my energy.

"Que Sera' Sera' "

3:30 pm - The Waiting Room

In a room full of pregnant women I sit...waiting the verdict of last week's biopsies. (A story for another day.)

My mind tries to breach the thinly veneered dam...damn...dam...erected to contain thoughts that threaten to crack it's walls if not held back.

What will he say?

How will I react?

What is...is...and...so...I wait.

4:00 pm - The Anteroom

Blood pressure too high...201 over something...warning, danger, will robinson...up almost 60 points from last week.

4:23 pm (I looked) - Diagnosis

"I'm afraid it's not good news."

Uterine Cancer.

Nope...not good at all.

"No doubt."

I cried a little...I cannot change what is.

Specialist...he's on of the best (aren't they all?)...appointment...Friday.

5:00 - Detour

Picked up dog's meds.

Such a mundane task on a day the world turns sideways.

5:30 - The Handyman

Welcome home hug...sweet.

Coffee...hot.

"Sit down."

Words are hard.

I cry a little...he's been through this before...unsucessfully.

Sigh.

He'll go to the oncologist (I don't want one of those, thank you) with me.

He loves me.

I think he'd go to the ends of the earth for me...

It's humbling...it's...it just is.

The kids will wait until I (we) know what I'm (we're) dealing with.

Mother I will have to tell tomorrow.

Sigh.

11:52 pm - Time for Bed

Thus ends my first day as a cancer survivor.