Warning: this is raw. I thought writing was the most therapeutic way for me to sort out my thoughts. This post would be red-marked the hell up in College Writing 101.
About an hour ago my oncologist called. Oh yes, I have an oncologist now. Because it turns out the tumor near my spine is lymphoma, and oncologists treat lymphoma. It’s so weird to say MY ONCOLOGIST. I HAVE AN ONCOLOGIST.
I have an appointment with her Monday at 7 a.m. I don’t want to go to it by myself, but we haven’t figured out yet what to do with the kids that morning and Victor might need to stay home with them. School doesn’t start until 8:30. We’ll take them with us and leave them in the waiting room if we can’t work anything else out.
Lymphoma is supposedly one of the most treatable cancers, with a high survival rate compared to other cancer types. All things relative, this is good news. We don’t know yet what type I have, but hopefully the pathologist gets all the reports written up and sent to my oncologist before Monday morning. It’d be nice to leave her office with more answers than questions.
In phone calls, emails, texts and in-person chats of the past hour, it’s been suggested that my friends and family are all too willing to kick lymphoma’s ass, punch it in the face, attack it without mercy. This is so awesome, that even the gentlest and kindest people—if they love you—will threaten violence against the things that hurt you. I love my friends and family. I’m sensing they’ll be my army as we enter this next phase of life. If I have to do this, I’m glad these folks are on my side.
Katie was around when I was making phone calls and texting this morning, and she was obviously curious as to what was going on. I told her, “Well, the doctor said the pain in my back is being caused by something kinda serious. My friends are letting me know they care.” She looked at me and goes, “Hm. Can I have some pumpkin pie?”
Random Sunshine™ stopped by with an armful of funny DVDs. I need to laugh, and these ought to provide many hours of guffaws. Perfect. Thank you, Random Sunshine™!
Although I love hats, I think I look kinda dumb in them. If I have chemo and lose my hair, I might have to go the scarf route. Or wear wigs—ooh, wigs! Wigs are fun! I can’t decide which of these I like best—they’re all so very “me”:
It’s now been two hours since the doctor called, and I think what I’m processing now is nonsense. I’m exhausted. More later.
Hate that thing in your stomach that's coming out soon and going completely away.
ReplyDeleteYou're soon to realize your family and friends are more evil than you thought in helping you get rid of this. Warriors, baby.
Love you more than ever...xoxo
Hang in there, Jen. I've got all kinds of stomping/kicking/pulverizing imagery going on right now and will send all those vibes your way, along with a fair dose of positive thinking and rah-rah cheerleading.
ReplyDeletexo
Okay. Well, I am almost speechless. I love you and hope that whatever it is gets completely annihilated in an alien ass-kicking kind of way. That being said, you know I have experience in head-shaving parties...Just sayin'!
ReplyDeleteI was so hoping not to read something like this Jen. Words fail at the moment, but count me in on the kicking of the ass! Thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteYou are way too cool to let this ruin your life!!! We are all in your corner of the world praying, kicking ass and just generally all around thinking of you.
ReplyDelete~Katie D
OK, thingy in the abdomen - visualize the SNL airline staff skit - buh bye, BUH BYE! After a swift kick out the door, you're now banned from Manullang airlines :)
ReplyDeleteOh ... I like to beat the snot out of stuff! Let me have at it!
ReplyDeleteParker may be staying home from school on Monday and I will be around, so I would be honored to watch your kids for you and get them off to school.
p.s. I know that knit wig pattern and I could whip out a couple of those no problem! Blonde one day, redhead the next ....
I'm envisioning Mickey Mantle, launching that blob over the right field roof in Yankee Stadium with one titanic swing of his Louisville Slugger, never again to be seen.
ReplyDeleteBe strong Jen...we're all here for you!
I know I used the word "punched," but I was still getting over Thanksgiving wine, so I think I may have said, "Punch in the ass," or something else bass-ackwards. I'm so glad we're all on the same basic page, though.
ReplyDeletePlease, please, please, pleeeeeezzz, can I go wig shopping with you when the time comes?
Izzie on Grey's Anatomy wore scarves and looked gorgeous - way better than wigs. You'll be chic for sure if you have to go that route. ::hugs:: You know you are in my thoughts.
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