We have no right to ask when sorrow comes, “Why did this happen to me?” unless we ask the same question for every moment of happiness that comes our way. ~Author Unknown
How do I write this post without it sounding like a sob story? I certainly don’t want to sound dramatic but at this moment, this very moment I feel as if I’m going to lose it. Completely lose it. I’m about five seconds from having a nervous breakdown. Thank God it only takes about 30 minutes for the Xanax to kick in.
Yes, I am taking tranquillizers. You would too if you were me, I’m pretty sure of it and certainly if after the visit I had with my doctor on Friday. It’s going to take a heap of healing yoga AND tranquillizers for me to remain calm. I don’t believe that I have that much inner sanity left. Perhaps I do, but at this moment I’m finding it difficult to channel it.
My sanity has left the building. Should you see it, please send it home.
(Dude is testing the remain .5 ounces of it by incessantly banging pots and pans in the kitchen…please tell him to stop before I go ballistic…thanksomuch.)
Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out.
O.K.
I realize I probably sound like a deranged lunatic but bear with me because this is just outrageous and unbelievable…at least to me.
Something I try NOT to do in relation to my illness is get all technical and medical because it’s not necessary. I get the information from my doctor and educate myself thoroughly so that I’m on top of my game and so that I understand what they are saying to me. I do LOTS of research. It’s all part of MY game plan in this fight.
So far, so good.
Everything was pretty cut and dry up until a couple of weeks ago when the doctor told me I had a rare form of stomach cancer. I felt relieved that there was an answer to the mystery puzzle we were trying to solve and that I finally fit into some kind of cancer “category”.
I also felt like I had a new color, a new ribbon and a new flag…
For four years I’ve had a teal ribbon awareness flag in my garden in support of ovarian cancer awareness. I’ve spoken to at least 100 women, if not more about ovarian cancer. It’s been my flag to fly. Two weeks ago I took down that teal flag and replaced it with a periwinkle ribbon awareness flag…periwinkle, the color of stomach cancer. My new flag to fly.
Then I went to see the doctor on Friday and he had the written pathologists final report.
This is where I break my rule of being all technical and medical…just this one time and only this one time,
“The overall impression is this is a cyst papillary adenocarcinoma of unknown primary that could very well represent a primary urachal carcinoma or a carcinoma derived from other embryonic rests in the region. It is the opinion of this pathologist that the two processes, though they may be related in some distant way via propensity represent 2 different primary processes.”
Edit: I also have a CEA marker that measured 57.8 and a C125 marker that measured 318. The CEA marker would indicate that I have colon or gastric cancer. The CA125 marker would indicate that I have a reproductive cancer. The two together indicate that I have something rare in correlation with the pathologist’s report.
So, what does that mean? It means that I have a very, very, very, very rare cancer that no one has ever seen and no one knows how to treat. And there is a reason I’ve put all that information in this post. I’m hoping by some freak chance a rockstar oncologist or rockstar oncology researcher is going to search the Internet looking for THIS CANCER because they have the answers I need, the cure I need.
In the meantime I’m searching for a rockstar oncologist. I’m hoping that I find him/her in New York City in two weeks. If not in NYC, then maybe in Boston. And GOD, please tell me there is some foundation out there that helps people like me, who have been laid off, denied unemployment and cannot collect Social Security…with funding to travel.
I’ve never asked “why me?” but c’mon. Why? How do I make sense of this? How do I get the doctors to stop saying, “I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry.” How do I get them NOT to give up on me?
Am I suppossed to come to terms with the fact that I’m going to die? Is that what I’m suppossed to do now? I can’t do that. I cannot walk around with my heart in my throat when I look at my two children knowing the clock is ticking and that every moment I have with them is a “last moment” because that’s where my heart is right now.
Fuck me, I don’t even have a flag anymore. Exactly what am I suppossed to do with the new flag in my garden now?
