Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Me and the big C

Well, folks, this is becoming very REAL to me. I have been scheduled for a "consult" at the U of MN in the Women's Health Center. Today, a phone call informed me that this will be a 2 to 4 hour appointment. Sobering thought, all that time for who-knows-what.

I wish I had someone's hand to hold through all of this. A none-judgmental warm and caring person. I feel so alone, so lonely. I have been a major support of my late husband through all of his many health issues, and then for my (former) guy-friend through several of his health treatments and issues. And my thanks is: a major, MAJOR health crisis that I will have to go through all by myself. Yes, I have family, my sister and my mother. But it's not the kind of support who can be by my side, to give me a shoulder to cry or sob on, to help me work out my fears. But this is not to be...

Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Shine a little light...

Oh, how much more optimistic I feel today. And ONE person is responsible for this.

Yesterday (Thursday) and even Wednesday evening, I tossed out a wide net, making phone calls to several family/friends in the healthcare industry, specifically one physicians' assistant and two nurses, all based in the Twin Cities area. My statement to all, after stating my diagnosis, was to ask them if they had any contacts in the gyn/oncology practices in that region.

And the replies basically confirmed what the gyn doc up here had mentioned, in his lovely mid-dinner over-the-phone diagnosis. The best place is at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis campus.

But... BUT the very BEST phone call came from the wife of my late hubby's cousin C. That's the cousin's initial, but the call was from his wife, initial B. What a WELCOME call. B went thru this very same thing herself 6 years ago, and I did not even know about it. The fact that she herself has the nursing background, plus that she used another large medical practice (not the U) based in the Cities, was a wonderful light in that dark tunnel that the doc's phone call had me in. Night and day, describes my feelings. To echo a cliche, someone who has walked a mile (and THEN some) in my shoes. And to be fair, she said that either the U or this alternate practice would be good choices for me to use.

So, friends and readers, my mood has turned completely around. Pooh on the diagnosis, hooray for those who have experienced this themselves and will SHARE what they went thru. I feel hopeful, not helpless. Thank you, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, B!

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Write about what you know best

Well, that's the "theme" of this particular post. I am feeling very down and you, my dear readers (are there any of you out there anymore?) will get to share my journey into the dumps.

Yesterday I received a phone call from my doc giving me the diagnosis that no woman wants to hear: uterine cancer, as showed up in the tissues that were reviewed from my SECOND round of internal biopsies/D & C. He says it is stage 1, which is, I know, the "lightest" version of cancer. Please don't tell me that I am "lucky", because I do not feel lucky at this particular moment in my life.

Furthermore, my relationship which had been on and off and is finally OFF for good, was maybe not the best one. But it did involve someone that would probably have been by my side. And so I do not have a pair of arms to wrap around me, to hug me, hold me, let me cry on him. So, SO lonely, so lonesome.

I have been told that there are women who HAVE someone in their lives that will NOT do the above, and I feel sorry for them. But right now I am too busy selfishly feeling sorry for myself.

And I had just recently been wading into the world of online dating, without much success, I acknowledge. But feeling positive about the possibilities... Anyone have a guy who wants a gal in MY situation? Yes, I thought not.

I have been told to "put on a mask" and smile, so people will think what a strong woman I am. You know, I got REAL tired of that shit after sudden widowhood. Ask how many widows want to go thru life wearing that mask, just so OTHER people will feel good. What does it get YOU (in this case, ME)?

Sorry, but I think I warned you... I need to throw myself this pity party. It has not even been 24 hrs since I got that phone call. Please allow me a chance to grieve once again. I carried forward with my blog after Greg died, and IF I make it thru this, then maybe someone will benefit from my agony. Or else I will have to leave someone my blog password and ask them to post the final update...

On the positive side: my mammogram was good, and my cardiologist gave me a 2-yr return visit date. So above the waist, good. Below, not so good.

Some people tell widows, as well as those in my situation, that "God doesn't give you anymore that you can bear". Well, I am official proof that this is NOT the case. I am breaking right now... splintering, even as I type.

I feel stupid, sitting at the keyboard in tears. And I don't want to cry only in the shower, as I did following Greg's death. I want to be acknowledged, that I have a right to cry, to grieve. And I hope to come back to a positive attitude, as I do NOT want to drag myself down. Oh, and then when YOU get this diagnosis, you can tell me how perky and smiley you are. And I will KNOW that you are either on some mood-altering drugs and/or alcohol.

I have family and friends in the medical profession, and they are confirming what my doc mentioned in passing: that the best treatment in this state for my situation, is at the gyn/oncology dept. @ the U of MN in Minneapolis. I just hope that appointments are available soon. Let's go ahead and do what needs to get done.

So that's it, folks. My sad, pitiful situation. Lucky, that's me, for sure. Updates will probably follow... I am sure I will smile once again... and it will probably be a very PHONY smile. Check out my eyes - if the mouth is smiling and the eyes are not, then it's a definite paste-on smile. Not me, just a mask. And not fun.