So, today is World Cancer Day – where we take a moment to highlight what is being done to fight cancers; honor the survivors and fighters; and remember those who have passed.
So, as a survivor, fighter, etc., I’m really kind of meh about this day.
I know, shame on me.
I kind of feel that everyday for me is cancer day. It shouldn’t be a once a year thing. We should, as cancer fighters, and survivors, and family and friends, ALWAYS be highlighting our fight.
And another thing – for those who have passed from cancer, the one thing that really burns my biscuits is when people refer to those folks as people who have lost the fight.
No – they fought until the end. Even if they chose to stop fighting, they fought. They didn’t LOSE that battle. They won. They beat cancer. Maybe not on an earthly plain, but never, ever say, for a minute, that they gave up a fight. It’s disrepectful.
My sister was a fighter. Every day, every hour, every minute until her last.
My dad was the same. He fought like hell – to see his little girl take her first steps, say her first word…he died shortly after I did both. I was 17 months old.
I fight. Every day. Like a girl. Kicking and screaming and scratching and clawing.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of cancer. Not one single day.
Today, I woke up, got dressed, got to work, and found spotting in my underwear when I went to the bathroom.
I’m 24 months in remission this month. And today, I’m spotting.
I’m freaking the fuck out people.
Pardon my french, but there is no other way to put it.
Freaking. The. Fuck. Out.
The bleeding has stopped, and in my mind, I’m trying to justify. “Maybe I scratched myself when I was putting on my estrogen cream this morning”…yeah, that’s it. I must have scratched myself. Which is a perfectly logical explanation for the bright red blood. Which has stopped.
I know I need to call my oncologist. But I’m scared to. One, I’m scared to call him if it is nothing.
And I’m scared that it might be…something.
And that something…well, it nearly killed me two years ago.
World Cancer Day is being thrown into my face all over Facebook today. I won’t comment on the posts. I won’t share them. I am like a bird with her head in the sand.
I promised myself I will call my oncologist if there is more spotting tomorrow.
Today, my head is burried.
Send me some good mojo, my friends.