Don’t feel obligated to read this at all. Really. I just have some things to get off my chest and this is the best place for me to do it. 🙂
So today I went for my well-woman check up. While there, the PA, who I adore, mentions I hadn’t called her back in regards to my ultrasound results. This immediately caught my attention for two reasons. One, how could I have missed that? And two, well, they don’t call if everything is okay.
She went on to tell me that it came back abnormal and they were going to need to do another ultrasound, followed by an MRI if needed.
I was still stuck on the abnormal part. I finally asked her what she meant, even though I had a pretty damn good idea. I’ve been around this block once before myself, and experienced it with close friends.
She explained to me I have a mass that they need to examine further. Another ultrasound would be performed to see if it the mass has increased in size and to determine if it is a cyst, or a solid growth. If they can not tell from the ultrasound, the next step would be an MRI, then a gyno and then a biopsy.
I was still stuck in the part about the mass.
Apparently it is only 2 cms in size, which bodes very well for me, she explained. If it is the word of which we do not speak, then chances are everything will be fine, since it’s so tiny its very new.
She tells me not to worry and proceeds with my exam.
I’m lying there spread eagled, contemplating what this really means. I had pre-“that word” cells once before, and between the removal of them and the results of the all clear- I was a fucking wreck.
This is a little bit different. There is actually something there that could already be “that word“.
As I left the office I texted my bff.
Ultrasound results back. Small mass found.
Instead of responding, she called. I knew she would. I stood there with tears streaming down my face in the lobby while we talked through it. Neither of us used that word because we aren’t about to jinx me. We both agreed if the doctors were worried they would go right to the MRI and skip the second ultrasound. They also would have called me in much sooner, rather than wait 6 weeks from my ultrasound. Apparently they wanted to wait that long before they did it again anyways, just to see if it has grown.
A bit later while I sat in my car, pulling myself together to go see my mom, I received a text from my other bff.
Are you okay?
How do I even respond to that? I wasn’t okay and I am not okay. But I know just as well as the next person that being positive about something like this is sometimes the only thing that saves your ass, besides God granting you a miracle.
I will be- I wrote.
I’m reminded of the hot July afternoon when I received a phone call from my late best friend. She apologized to me before she told me she was dying. She apologized because she felt terrible for making me sad. She fucking apologized because she was dying. I don’t want to ever make that sort of phone call to my friends, my family.
I refuse to say any of the negative stuff out loud, but I sure as hell have to get it off my chest.
I watched my best friend fucking die of stage 4 glioblastoma not even six months after she was diagnosed. She had just turned 31. She was newly married, had just finished her residency (she got bored of being a dentist and decided to become an MD) and literally had her whole life ahead of her. She made it just past her one year wedding anniversary. Died on Easter.
My mom’s best friend is currently battling the pancreatic form for the second time and was told at this point there is nothing more they can do for her. She has months, if that.
My childhood friend’s mother died of it New Years Day 2012, at 12:01am. She held on long enough so her husband would get one more social security check of hers, since she brought in the larger amount.
Another dear friend’s mother is bravely fighting and devastatingly losing her battle.
It is every where around us, it scares me more than HIV or AIDS. You can take steps to protect yourself from these autoimmune diseases. You have no way of knowing if IT will strike you, or when. There is nothing you can do to stop it. No drug, no vitamin- no matter how fucking healthy you are, if you are chosen it will happen.
So this is me, being honest, being dark and being fucking scared out of my mind. I am terrified I have it. I have a bad, bad feeling about it. I’ve never, ever been able to imagine myself as an adult, growing up, having kids and getting married–and I honestly wonder if this is why. If this is why I took out a huge ass life insurance policy five years ago-one that I can actually cash out and enjoy if I am terminally ill. If this is why I wound up with a ridiculously large settlement for my hand injury. If this is why I haven’t had children. If this is why I haven’t settled down.
I don’t know. If I was listening to my best friend right now, and she was telling me this was happening to her, I would tell her she is going to be fine. That I know she will be fine. And in my heart I would be certain she would be. I wish I had that same certainty for myself.
So that’s it. I allowed myself one moment, one day to let it out and be scared. Now I will burry it and move forward and be brave until I have a reason not to be. No matter how I am really feeling inside.
It is what it is.
Edited to add: I just bought myself the new MacBook Pro Retina. So here’s to more productive and less frustrating writing days. 🙂
And mommy, I know you read this, don’t let this make you sad. We’ll be just fine.