I had another close encounter with needles yesterday afternoon. The surgeon biopsied a lymph node on each side of my neck to see if the cancer has spread (God in heaven, please say it hasn’t). It was painful – I could feel each needle deep inside my neck and the pressure of it and the ultrasound wand felt like he was standing on my neck. I definitely got tears in my eyes, but Huz was with me holding my hand which made it so much better than the last time when I was alone. After this lovely procedure I had a pre-op appointment with a nurse practitioner who told me that the side effects of general anesthesia are heart attack, stroke, and death.

Blink.

This is really happening to me and I could die.

Blink.

Surgery is scheduled for Monday, December 8th – two days before my 14th wedding anniversary. I’m going to be so freaking hot for our day of celebration. NOT.

I am scared and angry and, most of all, I feel helpless. This is all just happening TO me without me having any say in the matter. We weren’t even wanting to, but to be told that you can’t have another child for a year after radiation treatment has got to be one of the most disempowering things. Procreation (or not) should be my choice, not somebody else’s. Being told that you can Cancer, but it’s the “best kind to have,” is a bunch of malarky. I have CANCER. I could DIE from anesthesia. This is fucking ridiculous. I have a right to feel scared and freaked out and depressed. Yes, the odds are on my side, but right now I just need to feel allowed to feel these emotions.

Advertisements