So, the results are in. Not exactly a competition I hoped to win.
Pre-invasive cancer.
And what is that exactly?
Doesn’t sound quite as welcoming as say pre-theatre dinner….
Screwed or not screwed?
But in the grand scheme of “are we screwed?” I think we did okay. Obviously things can still change when they finally get me on the operating table.
I say finally, because the universe thought to itself “Ummm So we’ve given her Cancer, what else can we give her that begins with C? I know!!! Cold and Cough!!
Thank you, universe, too kind.
Yet another "C"
Consequently, I’m currently too ill to have an op to remove something that might kill me…
I always hate having a cold, but previously at worst it may have made me miss out on a night out, or possibly I had time off from work.
But right now I hate having a cold more than ever.
Because this time the consequence is bigger and its not as if I am missing out on something that would “spark joy”.
No, I’m missing out on getting this bastarding tumour out of my body.
"Get away from her you B****"
I know rationally and medically that waiting two weeks isn’t going to make any real difference, but emotionally, mentally, and irrationally, this is agony.
I can feel it. Inside my breast. Festering. Growing. Laughing at me.
I’m Ripley in Alien 3.
Knowing the creature from nightmares is brewing inside me but all I can do is wait until it rips out of my chest in a frenzy ready to destroy anything in its path.
My breast feels huge. Hard. Full of disease and danger. And I will do pretty much anything to get some respite.
Crystals are Us
Yesterday I walked around with crystals in my bra. Smoky quartz and black tourmaline as they are great from drawing out negative energy. I believe in this stuff. You don’t have to. But yesterday my boob felt better. Today I haven’t had the energy to put a bra on….or shower…
I’m sure I’ll have more days like today. They will get more and more until they peak, and then the good days will get more and more.
And eventually I’ll be Ripley from Alien 4.
I’ll be resurrected: stronger, fiercer, slightly more attractive, but with the knowledge that the alien had a hand in making it so.
What next?
To end the day, the teenager promised for the umpteenth time not to do something.
I responded that his promises were meaningless!! (Very dramatically I would add, I fear I may have missed my true calling as an amazing actress…)
And to which he replied very loudly ‘I swear, I swear, I swear on your life I won’t ever do it again!”
My life? Shit, I’m so screwed….
