Chapter 39: The after effects.

Hey all,

So last week's post was pretty rough as i'm sure you all have read. To best honest I don't really feel that I have truly done it justice. Im not sure how all of you interpreted it, but from my side it ended early. Not to mention abruptly. There was actually more that happened, but I just couldn't bring myself to keep writing. So I stopped.

I would never wish this upon anyone, especially myself. For whatever reason I was given this. I often ask myself why, why did this happen to me? Why did I win the cancer lottery? Which in fact is not a win at all. It's a damn fucking life sentence. No-one is ever really "cured" of cancer, and anyone who has or had it would understand.

Pending the type of cancer you have, depicts the surgery you have to hopefully physically remove the bullsh*t that decided to invade your physical being. For me that happened to be my entire reproductive system. However, anyone who has had or has cancer knows, once the surgery happens the "treatment" is far from over wether you have chemo or not. The thoughts that swirl in you mind continue to act as a cancer in itself on a mission to destroy any thoughts of a healthy/successful life in the future.   Much like a goddamn plague. Obviously as you can all tell i'm not over it, and most likely never will be. I was robbed, something was taken from me even before I knew it could or would even be a possibility. No, you have no choice. You get no option, let alone have any opinion or thought in the matter. it was taken, Hell I would even say stolen. FUUUU*K..... YOU......FU*K YOU!🤬🤬🤬 whoever you are that gave me this.

YES i'm angry, YES i'm pissed, and YES I miss the hope, joy, and optimism I once had when it came to growing our family.  Instead I got this life changing bullshit that has forever altered my life in every way. FU*K!

After the phone call with my oncologist, I immediately broke down. I felt as though, I was no longer myself. I was standing beside myself, looking down at myself sitting on the bed with my head in my hands as the tears rolled through my fingers, down my forearms, and off my elbows onto the floor. I was numb but yet felt all of the feelings, much like an avalanche of emotion that was completely out of control with no end in sight.

I had no idea what I was supposed to tell my husband. The most kind caring and supportive person i've ever known. My rock, my light, my everything who I wanted to give everything to. My world. Knowing that my life has been forever changed with the possibility of having stage 3 cancer, I can hardly imagine what he would feel once hearing the result of this recent phone conversation.

After about almost an hour of sitting in the bedroom alone, I was finally able to gather the courage to go out into the living room where my husband was. I opened the bedroom door, walked out into the living room, to see my husband sitting on the couch watching tv. He quickly looked over at me with curious anticipation of what I might say Dr. F said. If im completely honest I tried not to make eye contact in fear of me completely unravelling and the word vomit beginning to spew out in all directions.

I sat quietly for about 30 minutes, which for those of you who know me well, is extremely difficult.The whole time, while I was watching TV, I could feel my husband periodically looking over at me eagerly awaiting what could have possibly been said by Dr. F that has made me this visibly upset. Seeing as my eyes and face were so puffy, dare I saw borderline swollen and definitely a pinkish red hue there was no way to hide it. H3ll, im sure for anyone who didnt know any better would have assumed my face had been attacked by bees. Actually no, wasps, ALL of the wasps; yep just all of them used my face as a convenient pin cushion for their own sadistic amusement. A-holes.

After a while, I guess my husband got sick of the deafening silence in the room, despite the Incredible Dr. Pol marathon blasting out of our tv.

👨🏾‍🦱 "so the Dr called you right?"

👱🏻‍♀️ "yeah she did", I said without even looking away from the TV.

👨🏾‍🦱 "Soooooo are you gonna tell me what happened? or......"

👱🏻‍♀️ "um yeah if you really wanna know. But to be honest, im not really sure how to tell you because I don't want you to worry about me."

👨🏾‍🦱 "just tell me and get it over with"

So I did, I told him what Dr. F said over the phone. What happened next was exactly what I thought would happen. He immediately went silent, shut down like Fort Knox and began to cry. Of corse now I feel like the complete a$$hole for putting him through this.  It was my fault why he was in this situation. I was the one who brought this to our happy loving home. I ruined it for both of us, not him, ME. I tried my best to reassure him that I was going to be ok as best as I could.  However  it seemed more and more word vomit kept coming out of me like a goddamn clown car packed to the top. But not any clown car of corse, not when it comes to me.  This of corse was a clown car filled with evil fire and machete wielding clowns. With names like "Stabby" and "Twisty the terrorizer" , not to mention the car being driven by the king evil piece of sh*t clown himself John Wayne Gacy aka Pogo the clown. Google him if you don't know him, a total P.O.S he is.🤡🔪🩸

It was horrible, and at this exact moment, nothing I could say or do would make anything better for him or me for that matter. I just felt completely in over my head, and the big choice I was trying to avoid, was now being made for me. There was no longer an option. 

All I knew was I didn't want to die yet, it truly felt like it wasn't my time to go....or was it, and I just had not accepted it yet......?????

Until next Monday.