Monday, September 21, 2009

And the next test is...

I'm starting to get nervous about tomorrow. It hit me just now actually. I'm not sure if it's the test or seeing the oncologist. Both? After all the junk I had to do last Tuesday, I don't think a PET scan will be any big deal. But I don't know how to make this any more real than to go see the doctor who deals with the chemo. It's really happening.

And isn't that a bizarre feeling. Yeah, yeah, I have cancer. Aside from feeling tired, and some discomfort from the mass in my ass, I feel...normal. I don't quite see this as a really long, bad dream. But it still seems possible that maybe someone will pop up and say, "Whoops! We switched the lab results with someone else who has ass cancer! Your thing is something very benign and we'll just take that sucker out for you. No worries!"

That's not going to happen. I realize that. It's cancer, it's in my butt, and obviously we have to take steps to deal with it. But wouldn't it be nice, you know? If it was all just a mistake? If I woke up tomorrow morning and the PET scan people (technicians? operators?) called and said, "No need for you to come in! Take care now!"

Sometimes, for a little while, I forget. I'll get busy with the kids, or doing something around the house. Then I move my right arm and feel the Alien Port and there it is. Oh yeah, I have cancer. Or I'll wake up in the morning and it comes rushing into my mind. Crap, I still have cancer. I read in a book that a little time will pass and it won't jump on me like that. Ambushed by cancer. That might make a nifty CafePress t-shirt, you know, with a sad face or something.

Speaking of CafePress t-shirts, a wonderful and awesome friend of mine and her equally awesome family sent me a gift certificate to get myself some Fuck You, Cancer gear. As much as I love telling cancer to fuck off, I decided on some other cool stuff instead. I'll post pics when I get my goodies, but rest assured, they are the coolest.

It's quiet in the upstairs, which usually means my children are up to something. I hope you got that memo, rectal cancer. I'm still a mom, I'm still going to BE a mom to my kids, and if you slow me down too much I'm going to be super pissed. Even more so than I am right now. Just so you know.

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