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.