I’ll be blunt. I have Cancer. Yep, the big “C” word. The ultimate piss off. The killer of happiness in our generation. No one wants to hear that word. It has become all too common. It’s right out there front and center on Facebook. It’s happening to our friends, families, neighbors.
No one is immune.
I don’t want sympathy. What I have isn’t bad. (Cervical) We caught it early. (Thank god.) I am incredibly lucky. (Am I?) I really don’t want to bring attention to my situation and yet I feel the need to let you know. I need to talk about it. I am scared. (Who wouldn’t be?) It doesn’t matter how small it is…it is still cancer. I could hardly believe it was me walking in to the Nova Scotia Cancer Center when I had my last appointment. They told me I have to have a hysterectomy.Even though it is very small. It is the right thing to do. Prevention they said. Surgery. That alone is scary enough for me. I’ve heard that too many surgeries can increase your chance of getting Alzheimer’s. Those of you who know me will understand why that is so scary to me.
Everyone says I am lucky.
I won’t have to have a monthly period ever again. I already have two healthy children! (I agree I am very lucky on that part!) But they don’t know that I’ve hoped and prayed for a third child and suffered quietly through several miscarriages over the last 4 years. They don’t know that I still hope for another pregnancy and probably will right up until they wheel me into that surgery room. I know it might seem ungrateful of me. I do love and appreciate my two children I already have. I do wish others had an easier time conceiving. But this awareness doesn’t take away my desire. The pain I will feel when I wake up after surgery knowing I can’t have any more children.
Hopefully they’ll leave my ovaries.
Hopefully, I won’t have to have crazy mood swings or early menopause. (I’ve heard that’s horrifying!) Hopefully they won’t get in there and find out it’s worse than they think. (I’m having horrible nightmares about tumours hiding in other areas of my body.) Hopefully I won’t need radiation afterwards. (I dread this.) Every word out of my mouth these dats starts with hopefully. Hope is all I have right now. Because I’m not ready for anything worse. Heck, I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t expect it. (Who does?)
Have you had cancer or a hysterectomy? Please comment or email me! I would be grateful for the shared experiences to help me get through this. I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m looking for a friend.