2 centimeters is a negligible amount. It is not a large thing. In fact, if it were anything other than a piece of cancer that is no longer there it would be entirely overlooked. Except, it is a piece of cancer that is no longer there and the biggest thing I've ever known. The good DOCTOR, who I will now be referring to as CAPTAIN, said the tumor was 2 centimeters smaller...(maybe more but he is a conservative fellow and I appreciate the effort to not overstate). I had a small freak out in the exam room. I made a triumphant yalp. He raised his eyebrows at me and smiled. I am convinced he won't let me die because I may be the weirdest patient he has ever had. I brought him a record too. I stated that the record was a not so subtle reminder that when the time comes to go mining for lymph nodes in my arm that the arm still needs to do the work it used to. I'm not 50. I still have a couple good decades of songs left in me and not playing the guitar is not an option. He said he was not a big fan of rock n roll. I told him to hush and listen to it anyway. He smiled again. Small distances mean everything now.
Chemo is a weird thing. You are infused, like tea, with poison. It wasn't so bad this time except I knew what was coming and that is another game unto itself. But I have decided that the strange gnawing feeling in my left boob shall be accredited to a small legion of winged Spanish chemo rats. It just feels like little scruffy rats with bandoleers, razor teeth, and long moustaches are nibbling away at this nasty business, successfully at that! I'm not sure why this visual comes to mind, its special spiritual significance, what any of it means...but I love my Spanish chemo rats! They are badasses! They are oldish and tattered and have been to this movie before, risen up through the floorboards of the Alamo, built rafts across the Rio Grande, shot bigger meaner things than cancer dead on and lived to tell the tale. These rats know things! They also like to nap which is cool because I couldn't take their crazy nibbling all the time. It is said in many of these books folks write about cancer that is is useful for the PATIENT to visualize something fighting their cancer. Not sure if my rat army is what they meant but I'm also learning that a lot of these folks who write these books are very serious indeed! I, alas, am not so serious. But even the batshit among us need an army once in awhile....moustaches or not.
Runnish has been going well. Think I'm going to take the dog for a little spin and try desperately hard to mentally reroute Gustav from barrelling into NOLA. I'm just going to say this....Republicans shouldn't pray for rain. They have so thoroughly sullied the communication lines with the divine that there should be a moratorium called on all further exchanges. At least for the time being. Let a liberal pray, dude! Shit may go better.
There should also be a moratorium called on all ironic moustaches. Indefinitely.
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11 comments:
WURD!!! on the stache thing. been saying that for a minute or two my damn self.
i love you lady!!!
the good reverend doctor... T (to the) Lizuve
Congrats on the cancer shrinkage! This is wonderful news! Your rat army is doing such a good job, they deserve a bonus. You should eat some cheese for them immediately.
Two centimeters sounds like two freaking miles to me! That's awesome news. Go rats!!
grats on the wins, abby, against the cancer and gustav!
Don't know you personally, but was forwarded your blog from your friend Mary. Great gal, had lunch with her and some of her co-workers the other day. I follow a couple other blogs, one CF patient, one colorectal cancer parient. Funny to see how different people "do business". For whatever it's worth to ya, I think you are right on with the kick ass attitude....and the humor. It would be much to long a road without humor.
I just heard of your diagnosis about an hour ago. Though I'm fully aware our interactions in the past have been limited by my buffoonery, I genuinely care for you and am pulling for you to beat this thing. Honestly, if there is anything I can do please let me know.
Though I may not shave my head in solidarity, in the past I've gotten others drunk and convinced them to shave theirs. I think that ought to count.
Dave Crawford
Abby, I did 5 rounds of chemo back in '93 and I believe I know what you're going through. It's a bitch getting up and doing your days and trying to keep things as normal as possible. Some days you just can't, and you shouldn't worry about taking time off just to feel like shit. Some days you'll feel like a million bucks and you should absolutely take advantage of it. Go out with friends, take a walk in the park, all of that gay-ass shit they use to make movie montages. It works.
In the end what cancer did for me was it made me say "fuck it" to all the shit that wasn't important and to realize that we're all here for a limited time. It's up to me to try to make the best of it.
The one thing that helped me out when everyone I knew was freaking out ("OMG! You're gonna die!" etc...) might seem a little fucked: All the doctors and nurses encouraged me to "keep a positive attitude" and all that BS, but (and maybe this was just post-adolescent college-era angst) my attitude was more like, "Fuck you. Fuck this. I'm just another piece of meat, so cut up what you want and inject me with what you got and let's get this over with. I've got things to do." Worked for me then, anyway.
And oh yeah, don't eat any fried mozzarella cheese sticks or gummy bears for the next couple of years, trust me.
Hang in there. A year from now, all this bullshit will just be a fading memory.
And oh yeah, when my hair finally grew back, it was thick and ringlet-curly! Best hair ever. Awesome. Too bad it's fallen out again in the last 15 years (mostly)...
IF ever I fall sick I can but hope to have the fierce humor and feisty guts you have girl! No pathetic little illness is going to knock your socks off, stupid sick dosen't have the slightest clue who it's picked to fuck with! I read this post and then had to go back and systematically read the rest. I have never had to fight for my life from illness only from drugs as an adolescent but if ever I do your refusal to be made less will be an inspiration! I was sent this way by Kara-another incredible hera! Maybe someday she will do us all a favour up here and steal all her friends and move to Canada- we sure ain't perfect but at least the poison needed to cure ya is free!
I send my love and awe through the internet superhighway. Maybe believing in Spanish Chemo rats is like Peter Pan believing in Tinkerbell? I am clapping for you sister!
"I tell you one thing, I am gonna make noise when I go down!"-Ani D.
IF ever I fall sick I can but hope to have the fierce humor and feisty guts you have girl! No pathetic little illness is going to knock your socks off, stupid sick dosen't have the slightest clue who it's picked to fuck with! I read this post and then had to go back and systematically read the rest. I have never had to fight for my life from illness only from drugs as an adolescent but if ever I do your refusal to be made less will be an inspiration! I was sent this way by Kara-another incredible hera! Maybe someday she will do us all a favour up here and steal all her friends and move to Canada- we sure ain't perfect but at least the poison needed to cure ya is free!
I send my love and awe through the internet superhighway. Maybe believing in Spanish Chemo rats is like Peter Pan believing in Tinkerbell? I am clapping for you sister!
"I tell you one thing, I am gonna make noise when I go down!"-Ani D.
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