Saturday, March 22, 2014
The C Word
Oh how I wish I were just being a typical naughty girl and spouting off the word "cunt".
Then again, come to think of it, now that I reassess, that word fits the bill too.
Simply because it is about the most vulgar word in the English language.
Yes, "cunt", fits in this situation.
I'm sharing the other C word with you now that I know for sure.
See last fall I had a traumatic injury that required emergency abdominal surgery. Standard procedure when removing a weapon from an abdomen is to get a stat CT scan of the entire cavity to assess injury. This was done and aside from the trauma, was normal.
Fast forward to about 3-4 weeks ago. I had to again have a CT scan of my chest and abdomen due to an acute illness. Herein the problem lies......or was discovered.
Where just 5 months ago, both of my lungs had been pristine on imaging, I now had several clustered nodules of significant size. I am under 30, not asthmatic, not a smoker......so drastic growth and abnormality in cells to this extent in a vital organ is *huge* cause for concern.
Rewind again, at age 21 I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cervical cancer. Being young and newly married, without a child of my own, I opted for radiation and localized surgery. I was okay for 3 years, long enough to have my miracle baby, and then 8 days after my 24th birthday, CIN III cells were again found on my cervix. Again, age playing a major factor I wanted to try localized surgery, and agreed that if I ever had even an abnormal pap in the future, a radical hysterectomy would be my only option.
Fast forward again (missing your VCR yet?) it is 5 years later and every pap has been normal.
Given the cancer history, these newly discovered nodules were particularly concerning to my doctors. So we immediately scheduled biopsies.
Hoping for the best possible case scenario.........benign growths that were partially calcified.
Preparing to face the worst scenario.........metastatic malignancy (cancer from another body area now attacking my lung).
I am Irish, but the last year have been about the unluckiest human being on the planet in some ways......and this unfortunately, is no different.
We have the pathology from the biopsies now, and the growths are malignant.
So cancer is a cunt and it is coming back for round 3. For the record, I believe more than one fight with this despicable disease say every decade or so, is just excessive. But I apparently don't make the rules.........though the way I typically hear that phrase is somewhat easier to take, believe it or not.
I'm angry.....pissed off.....furious even but it's frustrating because I have no viable target for the anger. It isn't as if my prior oncology team didn't do their job correctly. Daddy reminds me that anger is overrated when it's not strategic; and my rational self gets that. The whole anger fueling stress and stress feeding free radical cells in the body registers in my mind as well.
But I'm not overly great at showing, feeling or admitting fear. And I've not ever been the helpless damsel in distress type of girl. So pissed off tends to suit me well.
Perhaps I'll turn my anger into a strategy and use it to fuel my fight rather than my stress?
I've always been a good fighter. I have absurdly large, ogres for older brothers who picked on me all the time growing up (and still do). I fought competitively as a teenager, got in plenty of trouble outside of the ring, and Chicago was my playground. I think I can manage to fight.
Yes, that's it, solution discovered........I'll strategically utilize my anger to kick this cunt's ass. :)