Oh Fuck.

Ha. I can't really imagine a name any more appropriate than that. Oh Fuck. On my drive home from work today, after hearing from my doctor that I have a rather large 10x10 centimeter mass in my belly, (oh, and it's bad news...it might be ovarian cancer) I kept thinking various profanities. Shit. Fuck. Well, mostly just those two profanities over and over again. I thought about posting something ominous like that to facebook, but that just invites questions and right now I just need to process.

I also realized that I like to be strong. I don't like to show weakness. I hate crying in front of other people. People have always told me it's ok to cry, but that's not really what society says. Not that society matters much at this point, but it's been ingrained into my head and I have always gotten more approval and admiration for my strengths than my weakness. I'm betting that's true for most of us. Though who's to say that crying is a strength or a weakness? Why does either label have to be attached?

What exactly am I writing about today? Let's just say that midnight is near at hand and that my mind is racing. I've always journaled in the past in similar circumstances and it's helped, so now seems appropriate to take this one step further. Why not let the whole world read what is in my brain, if they care to take a peek? I've told myself no holds barred on this damn blog. Can I do it? If you don't like what you read, then please stop. Don't talk to me about insensitivity or legalities - it's time for me to be completely honest. My life is on the line.

I suppose that seems a bit dramatic. I have had a penchant for drama in my past. (what a beautiful word, penchant.) But seriously, I am unsure what kind of turmoil I am potentially facing in the near future, and I'm scared. I'm strong and I'm freaked the hell out. Is it possible to have fear and strength? It sure seems possible to me at this moment. Ultimately I feel pretty sure that I'll be OK in the end, but what does that really mean? What kind of hell stands in between me and "the end?" When I had thyroid cancer (a much less scary cancer in that only like 3% of people ever die from it), it was much easier to be cheerful and make jokes. I'm sure I'll do that again this time around too, but am I hiding a fragility under those jokes? Could my face crumble at any second and the soft interior part that is afraid to give up my incredibly happy and blessed life become exposed? Yes, I think it could. I think it's already happening.

That feels like it should've been the end of this particular rambling blog post, and yet my mind says it needs me to keep going. So on we blog. Are you still following along? "Can you read my mind? Can you picture the things I'm thinking of?" (10 points to whoever guesses that movie quote!

I hate most of all that I can feel this thing inside of me. I'm constantly aware of it's push distending my belly of my sensitivity to touch in that area, and most of all of it's rumblings, gurglings, and the pain. My god, that pain. It brings me to my knees. I want to moan - I sometimes do. But the pain is fairly brief thankfully. Tell me this - How can you have that kind of intense pain and yet just a couple of ibuprofen make it better? While I'm in the pain, it seems like only morphine is going to be capable of making it subside. My insides are twisting and pulling and want me to bend to their will. But no...two (ok, four) little aspirin that won't even cure what ails most people seems to make everything better. How strange is that?

So, I'll summarize the first few steps of the journey since that's what I'm about to embark upon - a forced journey. Really I suppose it's just a chapter in an already quite large and amazing journey, but we'll save those stories for later. Had extremely intense pains on 4/11/10, took some ibuprofen, started my period. Didn't think anything more about it. About two weeks ago, I noticed some persistent odd discomfort in the belly, but didn't think much about it. Saturday night went out and noticed that I was having problems sucking in my belly and that I got full supremely quick that night...and I didn't feel like drinking. Now that's odd. Sunday morning, had a great morning with Brian, we decided to take a walk. I realized as I was walking down our driveway that the pain was getting bad, the one step outside our driveway I thought to myself "this is going to be a mistake", but pushed on. (I am stubborn too.) Made it about two blocks and had to turn around. Wasn't sure I would make it back. Made it to the recliner, which made things worse. Fell to the ground in agony. Got up and went to the bed. Brian bought me ibuprofen. I fell asleep. I continued to take pills as Brian directed to make sure that pain did NOT return, and it didn't, but I was scared. I had learned to be much more sensitive of the belly at that point.

I called in sick to work the next day 5/10 and made an immediate appointment with Dr. Macheria at Kaiser. I had a slight fever -99- and my pulse was a little high. She did a pap smear but couldn't find the cervix. Did a vaginal exam, said the cervix was very high. She felt my stomach, I winced in pain a couple of times. She thumped my stomach and said it sounded dull. She also worried about my distended belly. Silly me - I think it's part of my constant-potbelly-since-birth. Oh no, it's worse. She refers me to a CT scan - I schedule it immediately - the next day.

5/11/10 Go to CT scan. Get really annoying guy who keeps making jokes and I just want to get the damn thing over with. Makes me drink barium two hours before going in - I do, it tastes icky. I then get the pains really bad again one hour later. I decide I can't drive myself and Brian has to call in to work in order to get me to the appointment safely. He does with no complaints. Damn, my man is a saint. (You know what he told me before falling asleep tonight? He said he'd rather be going through this with me than be doing anything else. Isn't that the damn sweetest thing you've ever heard? It brings tears to my eyes.) Anyway, go through the CT exam and then leave. Decide to go to work for 1/2 a day - I know, I'm crazy, but I don't have much sick leave! Check my phone at 4:45 and Dr. Macharia has just left me a message to call her back. I call back, get ahold of her and she says that I have a 10x10centimeter mass in my belly. That means bad news. She says it's likely that it's ovarian cancer. And that there's fluid in my belly causing it to be distended (ha! It wasn't just a potbelly from bad genetics and beer!) She has a call in for a referral to a gyno with an "urgent" status. And that's where we are. I'm waiting to hear about an appointment.

I could conjecture on what next steps are, but it's probably best to just wait. We know nothing about this "thing." No one knows if it is cancer for sure. It seems pretty damn likely, but strange things happen all the time.

And that's what causes me to be up at midnight typing a first entry into a blog, debating about fear and strength. Oh Fuck. But know what? I at least feel a little sleepy now.