Can I ask a stupid question?

     This is my very first blog.  I am not sure anyone will read it, but that doesn't matter.  This is for me.   I need to be able to get all my feelings out.   So here is the the beginning of my story.... (names have been rhymed to protect the innocent.)


    Last March I had pains in my left side accompanied by a fever.  Lasted for a couple days, I finally went to an walk-in clinic.  Dr. took a urine sample, said it was a UTI, gave me some antibiotics and sent me on my way.  Still wasn't feeling great, found myself a great new primary Dr.  who said it must have been diverticulitis because I was feeling slightly better and that is the antibiotic of choice for divers.   Ok!  So I tried to modify my diet, no nuts or seeds, check. 


    Flash forward to July,  I threw caution to the wind and enjoyed my favorite Chinese dish, Kung Po chicken...am I stupid?  Nuts, paper flakes, spicy...then that telltale discomfort in my side...what have I done?   3 days later I can barely walk, back to the walk-in clinic.   The Nurse-Practitioner takes a look at me, I tell her I think it's an attack of diverticulitis, she touches my stomach and I scream.   She says there is nothing she can do, I need to be examined and tested.  So off to the ER I go,  fully expecting I am going to be given a blue ribbon for worst case of intestinal discomfort.   They start me off with a CT scan...had no idea those cost about $7K.  Thankfully our insurance company gets a good discount.   The CT revealed no diverticulitis.  "But there is a mass on your left overy."  Mass?  What kind of mass???  So in comes the ultrasound tech,  belly and trans-vaginal sonograms reveal fluid filled cyst, not so scary now.  "Here you go..take some vicoprofen and see your GYN."


     So I visit my OB/GYN, whom I love, Dr Prodd.  After more sonograms, blood tests and such he decides he needs to pop the hood and take a look.   I was scheduled for an exploratory laproscopy.  I was nervous about it.  I am older now, have more to lose, didn't like the thought of being "put under".  After a few panic attacks, I was ready... I knew Dr. Prodd would take good care of me.   


     Turns out the mass was actually a kink in the fallopian tube that had basically died and created a tennis ball sized cyst.  They removed it and tied my other tube while they were in the neighborhood.   That was fine with me... Drama-nic and Brat-arina are all I could ever need.   At the time of the surgery they did some washes and sections to check for abnormal cells.  Everything came back "all clear."   Surgery went well, recovery was looking good.   Mission accomplished.


    Then a few days later I get a call.  "Dr. Prodd would like to see you tomorrow, first thing."  "Uh, is this about test results?"  The nurse said yes.  My head is spinning, this can't be good, they never want to see you right away for good news.    I mumble something affirmative about taking the appointment and hang up.


     Trying to get my head around this, I ring the office again.  The nurse laughed, she said "I thought you might be calling back."  She explained that some of the cells were abnormal on different pieces of tissue they had sent to the pathologist.   She said Dr. Prodd could explain it in detail and would probably refer me to an oncologist.  Oncologist??   So I started thinking... do I really have cancer?


    I would get a form of the answer the next day,  Dr. Prodd carefully explained the procedure I had under gone, showed me some graphic pics of my innards.  And then danced carefully around the C word.   He mentioned the oncologist, possible hysterectomy, low grade microscopic cells...I heard every word but the one I thought was most important.  CANCER.    So I sat on the exam table trying to make sense of it. Then I just blurted out..."Can I ask a stupid question?  Do I have cancer?"   I really don't remember what he said, but I know it was some form of YES.   He talked about how lucky I was they found it very early and for most women this would not have been found until they had symptoms and then it is almost too late.


     So here I sit,  trying to be upbeat and I think I am for the most part.   I even make jokes about my possible hysterctomy...."I'd rather have an empty apartment than a bad tenant."   I focus on my work, my kids, trying to keep the house clean.
But then that stray thought pops in my head....."Can I ask a stupid question?  Do I have cancer?"


     The answer is yes.   Some times I want to scream, I want to make t-shirts that say, "Stop whining, you don't have cancer."   I start to cry thinking why me?  What is to come?   Then there are times I just try to come up with a good cancer joke, who doesn't love those.  I am getting a bit overly dramatic, my prognosis is pretty good... I think... at least that is what I am told.    I guess I will find out more when I meet Dr. Cure-me. 


    All I am certain of at this point is I have begun a long strange journey that I am not quite prepared for.