T minus 2 - reprise number 3

Buongiorno tutti. It's been a while, I know. I am scratching my bald head in mild disbelief that it's already the middle of August. To quote an overused idiom, time really does fly. Seems like only days ago that the kind gentle neuro-surgeon drilled the hole in my head and then proceeded to tell me that (wait for it) - GASP! "You have a tumaaaaaaaaaaaa." Everything after that seems at once blurry yet clear. Paradoxical, I know. On the one hand, I recall every day of treatment, how I felt every single day, every single appointment with every single doctor (oi VEY - keeping the U.S. medical and pharmaceutical industry alive and well. Shit!) and on the other hand, there's a wee part of my brain that I think - mercifully - put up a "Gone Fishin'" sign (thanks Racherella). All that to say, been doing some thinking. Hmmmm.

Speaking of thinking, one thing I am trying not to think about is D-Day with Dr. Ferragamo this Wednesday. ("D" is for "discovery" - thinking positively here, with tongue planted firmly in cheek nevertheless!) As charming as The-Doc-With-The-Uber-Stylish-Italian-Designer-Blue-Suede-Shoes may be, the key objective of the visit will be to review the results of the 2,000 or so images the tech took of the inside of my brain week before last as I lay there trying to tune out the bang-bang-bang-throttle-throttle-throttle of the MRI machine. Oh. Please allow me to digress for a moment as I rant about the insurance companies.

Under the pretense of "saving me money", my insurance provider called me a couple of weeks ago and suggested that I have my MRI done somewhere more "cost effective." When I asked them if I could refuse said "Kind Offer" (puh-LEEEZE!) and more importantly if they would still cover the cost, they replied - hesitantly of course but affirmatively nonetheless - that yes they would; however, they reiterated that it was beneficial to ME that I reconsider their generous offer. Now, first of all, it has nothing to do with me, dear readers. The insurance companies are pissed off that they have to pay more for a superior service and thus, it's eating into their handsome profits. Please, like they give a shit about me?! Secondly - and again, more importantly - would you compromise on something like an MRI? Especially for your brain? Why would I purposely go to the Wal-mart of MRI's when it's my freakin' life at stake? To save a faceless, Very Big Corporation of America a few drachmas? To quote one of my favourite Monty Python expressions: "I fart in your general direction"; aka: "Methinks not!!" I digress, as usual.

Where was I? Ah yes. The impending rendez-vous with Docteur Chaussures Bleu. Trying not to think about the outcome of that visit and yet, I have been thinking about the conversation I had a couple of weeks ago about making "friends" with Il Tumore, with "cancer." Seems odd I know, especially with the F**K cancer philosophy and yet, I finally understand it. It was a different experience dealing with The Big C when I had breast cancer. I had a lump, then I didn't have a lump, followed by seven exhausting weeks of radiation and then thought I had put IT behind me. I dealt with cancer, but more as an inconvenience, an annoyance, a declaration that I had beaten that bitch. This current situation is so different, and much and all as I want to believe that the treatments will make the tumor disappear completely, the reality is that surgery would have greatly reduced the size of the tumor. Alas, because of where the tumor is located, surgery just wasn't an option, so the bottom line is that the treatments are intended to hold the tumaaaaa at bay.

Which means I need to find a way to live with IT. To accept it, to continue to come face-to-face with it, yet not make it the primary focus in my life. I don't want cancer to be all that defines me; to have this perpetual imaginary neon sign over my head that reads "This gal has cancer" or "This gal is in remission - Handle with care." Yet, there are things that I need to deal with this time around that are decidedly different than with my bout with breast cancer. MRI's every other month. Constant monitoring. The tumor co-existing with me, myself and I and in an area of the body that is not only the epicenter of the central nervous system but as Thomas Edison so eloquently stated: "The chief function of the body is to carry the brain around."

I want folks to just treat me the way they always have; as the big goof that I am. Except now I'm bald for the unforeseeable future (I'm actually starting to get used to it and like it. It's very low maintenance!) Speaking of my Uber simple coif, Drew and I both went for a trim last weekend and the hair on the part of my head that wasn't nuked is growing back nicely but the nuked parts are still bald and smooth as a baby's butt. No signs of hair at all. Not one single strand. Sigh. Looks like I'll be shopping for wigs after all - I may opt for long haired wigs, pig-tailed and all, just for shits and giggles. Thoughts? My pal R suggested vintage style cloches, which I adore. In any event, many of these thoughts relate to the Going-Back-To-Work scenario and I came across a quote that states that "over-thinking leads to negative thoughts", or as my dear uncle so aptly states it: "don't think too much." So, that's all she wrote about that! One day at a time; one thing at a time.

Still wrapping my Steadily-Becoming-Clearer noggin around the fact that this little journey has made me realize that life as I knew it will never be the same. Perhaps profound, perhaps trite but nevertheless true. Everything has changed: priorities, plans, the future, what's important, who's important (will write about that later - some interesting examples to share with you fine folks). Drew and I have already discussed possible "what if" scenarios as there is no sense in pretending that they don't exist. Avoiding possible realities does not make them go away. And in my view, it is not negative thinking to weigh all options; it's practical, realistic and what mature adults do. I have been reading several blogs and forums and the increasing pressure to "Stay positive! Stay strong! Chin up! Keep smiling!" though appreciated and welcome is simply not practical on a daily basis and at full-throttle 100% of the time. Cancer and the associated physical and emotional shit it brings with it exerts an enormous toll and so, there have been moments of fear, sadness, frustration and anger. I can assure you, dear readers, that those moments have been few, but I will admit that there have indeed been moments when I have felt less than sunny and positive and a wee bit more introspective. However, with the love and support of friends and family (thanks for a wonderful brunch last weekend, LK and WWM and for the gorgeous scarves W!!, and for a wonderful celebration on Sunday, RM!)  and especially with the steadfast, self-sacrificing, devoted attention of my extraordinary hubby Drew, I have mercifully been lifted from those temporary grey moments.

And on the theme of happier notes, in the meantime, appetite is slowly coming back, head is clearer, not feeling as drag-down-exhausted ...one day a time. Thankful for every day! Until Wednesday then, sending each of you many hugs and many thanks, as always for your support, cards, emails, texts, calls, friendship and love. 

Tanti baci,
Cancerella, Buderello e i Due Gatti
xoxoxo