I now had a new identity. Cancer patient. somehow it was comforting. I wasn't this girl who had arrested development and morbidly obese and nothing really special, I was special because I might die. Everyone came out of the woodwork to give me food, prayer quilts, all kind of attention and love. For about a month I really grieved the loss of ever having biological children. Then something very strange happened to me. I didn't want children anymore. I didn't want the responsibility of one day dying and leaving them. I didn't want to ruin a child. I didn't feel like I could give a child anything they needed. I felt like a child myself. I figured if I ever "grew up" and got married I might want to adopt, but I was happy to put that on the shelf for now.
My oncology appointment was a little scary. I had talked myself into believing the night before that they probably would get it all. Probably just a smidgen of cancer, nothing to worry about. "your D&C revealed cancer cells in the endometrial lining. We won't know much beyond that until we remove your uterus, but you have stage 1C ovarian cancer and we found a 1cm carcinoma on your appendix."
The second I heard the appendix I thought, oh Lord, it has spread already, I might actually die... and the other scary fact... I woudn't just need surgery. I would also have chemo. I would lose my hair. You have to understand that since I was around 18 I was addicted to hair salons. I kept getting it cut because it takes too long to grow out and I needed pick me ups. It made me feel beautiful. Well that whole year I had really committed to growing my hair out and I had finally gotten it past my shoulders and I loved the length. Now I was going to lose it.
So I was scheduled for the second surgery and I have to say, it hurt a whole lot more and they gave me less drugs... go figure. I eventually found out some rather shocking news. I had 3 separate cancers....all stage 1. The odds of that happening are very very very rare. Which means I probably have the brca gene or lynch syndrome... in a nutshell my genes are rubbish.
So after I got home I developed a bad infection called cellulitis and was put on strong antibiotics. Also, to add insult to injury, I can't have kids but yet I start producing milk. They still don't know why that happened but I had a good bit of milk for about a week. Probably hormones being jostled around combined with stress.
So Then they took the remaining staples out and said, we are going to have to open this... I didn't know what they meant until I saw them take a Q tip and start swishing it around until I had a hole in me the size of a silver dollar and about 2 inches deep. For the next 3 1/2 months or so we had to pack that hole and clean it. I call that the waiting period. Waiting for chemo, waiting to get on with my life. Just taking it easy, doing what I want and never having to worry about a thing. I didn't realize it, but the biggest challenges, and sorrow were ahead of me still.
