Friday, May 13, 2011


Well, I guess the happy feelings from yesterday could only last so long. I'm trying to be positive, but there are constant reminders of my cancer at every turn.

This morning, I had to go for another dildo camera exam and blood test. Looks like I'm ready to start the fertility medications to force my eggs to mature so I can harvest them before the chemo and radiation kill my ovaries. That means that tonight, I start 11-14 days of injections directly into my abdomen. As bad as that sounds, I keep thinking about how easy it will be compared to what lies ahead in the very near future.

Younger people are not supposed to deal with this stuff. And younger people are not supposed to die. As far as I'm concerned, 36 is in the younger range.

36. Oh no.

I just realized I'm 36. Well, I've been 36 since March. Yes, I know how old I am. What I mean is, last year, one of my ex-boyfriends named Bill was killed in a motorcycle accident. He was 36.

I know. I can't think the number is bad luck because of one accident. But there's more.

When I was 20, I dated a guy named Jeff. I'd been searching for him online for the last few years just to see what he was up to and how he's been. I couldn't find anything. I chalked it up to the fact that he wasn't really the brightest bulb, and he probably didn't even own a computer.

But then I got really curious. So one night a few months ago, instead of searching his name on MySpace or Facebook, I Googled him. What popped up shocked me.

"Queens Man, 36, Dies in House Fire."

That can't be the right Jeff.

I scrolled down, and there was the picture. It was Jeff. On Halloween night, 2007, a candle on Jeff's back porch fell over and set the house ablaze. Jeff died in his sleep that night. He was 36.

Wow. 36. First Bill, then Jeff. Both of them were 36 when they died.

I'm 36. Does that mean something? Should I worry more than if I were 35 or 37? Why do I know two people who have died at 36 in the last few years? Is it a foreshadowing of what's to come for me?

I want to be positive, but there are too many unknowns. I'm still waiting on one more doctor to officially confirm my diagnosis, even though I already know what he's gonna say. After that, I'll know my treatment plan. Will the cancer kill me? Will the treatment? Will my boys grow up without a mom? Will they forget about me?

I want it to be yesterday when I was smiling. I want it to be April 13th, when I didn't yet know that I had cancer. I just want it all to go away.

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