Can I be shallow for two seconds--I feel I've earned that after all the deep thinking I've done recently.
I'm just gonna get dressed in the dark from now on, even though Mike says he didn't marry me for my belly button or anything. But still, you never know. It's like this alien face on my belly--just staring all clown-like.... Creepy.
But enough about my button of doom.
So having a cancer scare.... Let's make a list of pros and cons.
1. YOU realize we're all gonna die *whispering* Ticking. Time. Bombs.
2. Some people who care about you start freaking out--and you wish you'd never started blogging about this in the first place.
3. You feel super gross after either getting a biopsy--or like me, getting a tumor removed and then biopsied. (There's just something disturbing about an orange-sized piece of yourself being shipped off to a lab.)
4. You look up "tumor" and wish you could "unlearn" some things.
5. You get the tumor removed and magically weigh MORE than you did before going into surgery--hello WEIRD? Did they leave an instrument behind? Do the math.
1. You really appreciate life.
2. Every hour seems to last a freakin' eternity.
3. You begin noticing the little things, like birds cheeping 'n how awesome Doritos are; especially the cool ranch version.
4. So what if everyone thinks you're dramatic 'cause you had a tumor--YOU started writing again.
5. You realize who really cares about you.
6. AND you know--beyond anything--who/what really matters to you.
Today I got my pathology reports back from the tumor-monster-ovary-thing, and the other growths on my chick parts. Come to find out *wait for it* it's not freakin' cancer!!! Yay. :)
The OB sat down on his chair and wheeled toward me. "It's not even Endometriosis," he said. "You have something I've only seen two other times in my career. It's called, endosalpingiosis."
"Endo-huh?" I said.
"That sounds ethnic," my husband said, from the side of the room.
I raised a brow at Mike 'cause he knows he's hilarious, then turned back to the doc.
"Good news is," that amazing doctor said without really missing the moment, "it isn't known for being very progressive. Endosalpingiosis is where the tissue in the Fallopian tubes grows outside of the tubes. It can be dangerous, but since we took your left ovary and Fallopian tube out, I'd like to see if this issue will subside. You're scheduled for an MRI tomorrow, but I'm confident it will go well. If everything checks out, I propose you come back in a year or unless you're in pain. We'll go from there."
I sat shocked. And I could have cried from the surprise--and happiness--of it all. Endo-what-the-heck-ever-it's-called. Who woulda thunk!
So I'm still recovering from getting knifed last week. I told someone that and they didn't realize I was talking about my surgery. "Oh, my gosh," they said. "Seriously?"
I nodded, and showed them my stomach.
"Oh, krap! Was it for your wallet?"
"No, I got knifed by a doctor. But he didn't take much of my money; he robbed my insurance blind instead."
Joking aside. He did an amazing job and I'm thankful for the whole damn thing--even my belly button.
Life is crazy. One minute it's up, the next it's down. I learned a lot about myself in the last few weeks.
I've never been this scared about my own life. And I wasn't scared for the reasons I might have expected; I was simply scared to lose time with the people I love.
But I guess it's okay to be scared sometimes, after all, that means I'm still alive.
A Tumor-less Chick
Who will be blogging
about happier topics very soon.
P.S. I have such awesome co-workers. These peanut clusters were better than pain meds!