Time to Come Clean
Mara has let the cat out of the bag. So, I guess I have to face up to reality and tell the rest of the story. I realize that most of the people who read this blog already know what is going on, so for the imaginary rest of you . . .
To write it in a blog makes it horribly real, but here goes. My mother always used say, "You have to deal with what is, not what ought to be." Good advice.
Take a grapefruit . . . no, make that two. Put them end to end. Contemplate. Set them aside. Now take a mango. . . a big one. Roll it around in you hands, smell it. Set it aside. Next, let's get a papaya, not too big. They come in different varieties. Heft it in your hands. Feel it's weight. Put that down. Next, carefully, pick up a nice ripe pineapple. Look for a fairly large one. Careful! They're prickly. Doesn't it smell lovely? I love fresh pineapple. Now imagine it without its leaves on top. Feel the weight. Set the pineapple next to all the other fruit. Look at all of them together. Start cutting up the fruit for a salad.
No, actually, that was an exercise to help me understand the size of this "thing" that is growing in my abdominal cavity. I saw the surgeon last Tuesday and my surgery is scheduled for next Thursday. I can't wait and I am dreading it, both at the same time.
This surgery is not about "getting it all" or curing me. The cancer has returned, as I was told it would. It has been in my bloodstream and has found a home in my ovary. This mass has grown quite quickly. What we are doing here is making me more comfortable. It will return later, and probably in a more deadly place. Ovaries don't kill.
I do feel a bit as though this cancer thing is playing a morbid game of cat and mouse with me. First it showed up in the tail of my pancreas, which makes it more difficult to diagnose. Then it shows up in muscle tissue, where it doesn't belong, so was ignored because if it is in muscle tissue, it can't be adenomacarcinoma. Next, it turns up in my ovaries, again, not the usual place to look. Now, the alternatives are lungs and liver. Those places do kill, so I am grateful it hasn't sprung up there yet, but I still feel a bit toyed with.
I am doing quite well, actually. I feel pretty good most of the time. I am still working full-time and will up until my surgery. I was having some bouts of nausea, and some abdominal pain. They both come and go. But knowing that I am not crazy and that there is actually something there and that it will be taken care of next week, makes me feel better. I can dismiss the minor discomforts for now. (Ask me next week how I feel about it. I suspect the after effects of the surgery will be worse than how I feel now.)
I will try to write again before I go in for surgery, to keep everyone posted, but if you don't hear from me, you will know where I am. (Holding Liam, most likely. As Mara said, I am storing him up against future deprivation.)
Comments
Since we're coming clean. When I was 7 or 8, you borrowed an electric carving knife to cut foam. You everyone a piece. I was jealous cause mine was the smallest. So I snapped the scissors at the plug - to get out my jealousy...but then it actually cut the cord! I panicked and hid the cord in a wehat/flour container that you rarely used...whichi s why about four years ago you opened the flour bin and found a broken cord inside. It's not as satisfying to come clean as I thought it might be. Perhaps it comes...
Posted by: R.T. BEan | June 12, 2007 8:30 AM