As cancer patients, from the moment we even remotely suspect the diagnosis our lives change. Every conversation we have is tainted with an undercurrent of fear. It doesn’t matter if we’re talking to a medical professional or picking up dry-cleaning, our steadily increasing sense of dread permeates the interaction. We hold our breath hoping no one says the word aloud, the thing-that-must-not-be-named – Cancer.
And we wait. Through (depending on symptoms) failed courses of antibiotics, mammograms, ultrasounds, and MRIs, we wait. At some point the primary care physician or gynecologist makes the hand-off to an oncologist or surgeon who handles the biopsy. We do everything in our power to rationalize that the tumor’s effect on our bodies is something benign. Suddenly we want to be hypochondriacs – after all, better to be thought a drama queen than be stamped with giant pink C on the chest, right?
Right.
But if you’re reading this blog, then you weren’t a drama queen. At some point you sat in a room and lived through some version of this:
[insert Doctor Name] walked into the exam room on [insert date] at [time], looked up from the histology report in her/his hand, and said:
“Ok, it IS cancer.”
For me, it was my oncologist on July 2, 2015 at 2:30 pm – nine days ago.
Of course, like every last one of you (don’t deny it, you know you did), I got to the car, picked up my phone and started to google. I googled my way through the entire three-day Fourth of July weekend. You know what I found?
Lots of dry data. Tear-jerking stories that terrified me more than reassured me. Before and after photos of surgeries gone wrong that honestly freaked me out. Masses of somber, serious information we truly need in order to make educated decisions regarding our care.
If you’re looking for those things, this is not the blog for you.
What I didn’t find was a site that made me feel strong, that showed me how to get through the next six to twelve months without sinking into a mire of depression and tears. So I made this blog for anyone who needs to find a moment to smile or laugh while going through the toughest time of their life.
Remember when momma said you could kiss a frog and turn it into a prince? She forgot to mention you can also dip it in fryer oil, drizzle it with hot sauce, and have a nice tasty snack before you go buy your own glass slippers. And personally I plan to toast cancer’s ass by any means necessary – then buy the tallest, most sparkling stiletto heels I can afford.
This is my journey and I hope it helps you on yours.
Winning The Booby Prize 