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so youve got cancer
Nov. 13th, 2021 09:35 amOctober 1 I had a mammogram that turned into another mammogram, a biopsy, and a diagnosis. I have ductal carcinoma in situ. In the scope of cancers, it's not a bad cancer. Like that makes any difference.
Since October 15 I've been fucking depressed. Everyone's so sympathetic and it makes me uncomfortable. People are buying me shit, which makes me uncomfortable. I have gone to the doctor of some sort every week. I go to have an MRI on Monday, one month exactly from finding the lump.
After the MRI I'll talk to my surgeon and set up a mastectomy and get the problem taken care of.
Pretty much sounds like I have my shit together, right?
Except I'm scared shitless. This will be my second anesthesia in a year, 4th in my life. I'm scared this time I won't wake up. I'm upset I am cutting a part of myself off to save my life. I've always hated my boobs and now I can't stop looking at them. Trying to see what I'll look like without them.
A friend's brother died suddenly and she sent us some clothes for Jake. And it made me think about what Cody would do with my things if I died. Who would get my sewing machine. Who would take my barbies. And my clothes.
I'm scared I would be the 0.000000000000000000001 person to have such a wussybaby cancer metastasize, but that's on my mind, too.
I cry a lot. Much more than anyone knows. It's kind of weird though because it's definitely "i don't want to do this" crying and not "oh poor me why me" crying. Why me? Probably because I lived in farm country in the 70's. It's depressing to think this is probably My First Cancer. I just really don't want to do this. Oh, how retail has trained me for this very moment.
Half the people at work don't even know.
Since October 15 I've been fucking depressed. Everyone's so sympathetic and it makes me uncomfortable. People are buying me shit, which makes me uncomfortable. I have gone to the doctor of some sort every week. I go to have an MRI on Monday, one month exactly from finding the lump.
After the MRI I'll talk to my surgeon and set up a mastectomy and get the problem taken care of.
Pretty much sounds like I have my shit together, right?
Except I'm scared shitless. This will be my second anesthesia in a year, 4th in my life. I'm scared this time I won't wake up. I'm upset I am cutting a part of myself off to save my life. I've always hated my boobs and now I can't stop looking at them. Trying to see what I'll look like without them.
A friend's brother died suddenly and she sent us some clothes for Jake. And it made me think about what Cody would do with my things if I died. Who would get my sewing machine. Who would take my barbies. And my clothes.
I'm scared I would be the 0.000000000000000000001 person to have such a wussybaby cancer metastasize, but that's on my mind, too.
I cry a lot. Much more than anyone knows. It's kind of weird though because it's definitely "i don't want to do this" crying and not "oh poor me why me" crying. Why me? Probably because I lived in farm country in the 70's. It's depressing to think this is probably My First Cancer. I just really don't want to do this. Oh, how retail has trained me for this very moment.
Half the people at work don't even know.