I started writing on this blog a year or so ago. A lot can change in a year.
Back then, I was mourning the loss of one of my childhood musical heroes to Cancer. Now I have it myself. Back then I was still trying to work out how we would clear our debts. Now we actually have new things, and ‘Savings’. Back then, I was trying to have a baby. Now I’m waiting on an operation in a few weeks to remove the tumour and what is left of my reproductive system post radiotherapy. I know I’m planning for accidents but I think life took this too far.
For the next few weeks at least, life goes on. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of the prospect of the operation. I’ve watched far too many episodes of Grey’s Anatomy to not be worried now. I’m not afraid of the after effects. Not really. The organs they are planning to take out are of no use to me now. The fact that I may not even wake up at all worries me, but if that happens I won’t know about it anyway, right? What I am afraid of, is that they may need to take out more than planned. Say, if the tumour is impacting my bladder more than they assumed from the CT scan and EUA. Even scarier than that, though, is the thought that they will open me up and see some kind of godawful mess they can’t fix and just close me up again, resigning me to a far shorter life than I had planned.