Cancer Talk

Its been strange telling everyone that I have “cancer”.

I say that loosely, because even though I DO have it, it seems that it will be easily treated, and therefore I am some sort of tourist in a land that is filled with fatigue, nausea, hair loss and constant battle for life.

When I think of cancer I think of Lifetime network movies, where someone is laid up in bed, and a visitor is greeted by the care taker and is told that the cancer fighter is having one of her “good days.”  Then smiles and hurrys away to clean up the snot and puke collected in whatever container they’ve collected said bodily fluids in.

Valerie Bertinelli down to 100 lbs with dark circles under her eyes and a head scarf.

I look nothing like that, and will probably not have to go through all the chemo/radiation/poking and prodding that usually goes along with those scenarios.

I’ll go in, they will make some incisions, pull my kidney out through my belly button, and I’ll be done.

So it’s like I don’t even really want to tell anyone that I’ve got the cancer.  The past day as I have let my closest loved ones know, it’s always been the same reaction.

Their face immediately turns forlorn and worrisome, and tears begin to well up in their eyes.

Then I have to say ” No No!  It’s ok!  It’s contained!  They just have to  take out my kidney!”and then feel like a big dick for worrying people more than they need to be about this.

I mean, I dunno, Yeah sure, losing a kidney is a big deal, but I am so fortunate that I don’t have to go down the path that many people with cancer face, and for some reason in my head, because I don’t have to, trivializes the battles all of those that do.

There are even talks of throwing a fundraiser for me to help defer medical costs, and while I do have insurance (with stupid premiums and deductibles.) I have a hard time being comfortable with the idea of people coming together to raise money for my hospital bills.

Its a nice gesture, and I’m all about a party. . . but again, it just feeds into my whole this is not as serious as pancreatic cancer, or brain cancer in a 5 yr old mentality.

Maybe I just don’t want to accept this cancer.  Regardless of the seriousness of it, or lack of.

I KNOW i will be fine.  I KNOW i will come out alright.

It’s just another annoying medical anomaly that I have to deal with.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Ariella
    Aug 03, 2012 @ 18:49:20

    I was diagnosed with level 4 invasion melanoma skin cancer 2 Novembers ago. It was the scariest thing I have ever heard in my life. Thank god, they were able to remove the cancer and it did not spread, however, I was scared to death. I went for Surgery November 8th 2010 and made sure my entire house was decorated for Chrsitmas before the surgery. If I was going to die, my kids were going to have a Christmas. My surgeon thought I would make it out fine, but that didn’t matter. Cancer, just hearing it is scary beyond belief.

    Wishing you the best in your future recovery!


    • pixiegirlkc52
      Aug 08, 2012 @ 15:44:41

      That is scary. A friend’s brother passed away from cancer a few years back and that was how it started. He didn’t get it checked out till the last minute, and by then it had spread.
      Thank you for the well wishes. Hopefully they will figure this crap out soon. Hope you’re holding up well. 🙂


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