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I am scheduled for a colonoscopy. If you've never had one, they are horrible. The procedure itself is no big deal. They put you to sleep, you wake up, it's over. It's the day before that sucks. You can have nothing but clear liquids all day, and you must drink the most gawd awful tasting drink to cleanse yourself. Then the cleansing begins. Liquid, explosive, uncontrollable diarrhea for the next few hours. Rule #1: stay close to the bathroom. Like, just get a pillow and get comfortable in the bathroom. You're not going anywhere too far. Forget wearing pants. You will just ruin them.
I go in for the procedure. They put me to sleep. And then, poof, it's all over! I sort of half wake up on the ride home. I am starving, so we (my mom, dad and me) go to a nearby Chinese buffet. I stumble around the buffet looking like I've been on a three day drunk. My mom walks behind me to keep me from falling. I notice a few strange glances from other customers. I don't care. I weeble wobble my way back to the table. I dig in.
"Oh, yeah, so what did the doctor say? Did he tell y'all anything after my procedure?" It's all a blur. I still feel quite loopy from the anesthesia.
The exact exchange is still blurry. All I really remember hearing is the word CANCER. "You have a tumor. They want to start chemo and radiation immediately."
Time stops. What? Me? A tumor? Cancer? Radiation? Chemo? Oh My God, my hair is gonna fall out. ....I swear that was my first real thought. I've been on some heavy drugs that are still floating around my system, clouding my brain. I start to cry - right there at the table of a Chinese restaurant. I can't stop it. The tears just start flowing. This can't be right. But for some reason, I am not as surprised as maybe I should have been. I think I already knew. I don't know, I think the subconscious knows more than it lets on at times. Denial is not a river in Egypt.
We finish lunch; well, sort of. My appetite is suddenly gone. The car ride home is a quiet one. I get home, exhausted from the procedure and the anesthesia. I make myself comfortable and start sending messages to my friends. A few even come over to visit, and tell me how much they love me. I don't fully understand what is happening, but I am determined to accept my fate and face it head on. No worries, right?
Later that evening, my mom and I are talking about the cancer and what it means. She is trying to explain that according to the doctor I will need to undergo radiation and chemo, followed by a surgery. I am not thrilled about the idea of radiation or chemo. "Why can't we just skip right to the surgery part?" She doesn't really answer. I press on. So now I am being stubborn. "But I don't want chemo! I don't want to go through that!" I am getting frustrated. So is my mom. We start to argue. She is getting more and more agitated, which is only infuriating me further. Finally, she explodes. "You don't understand, Jennifer!" She is practically yelling and visibly tearing up. "If they can't shrink the tumor with radiation and chemo, you are going to have to have a colostomy!" "Permanently!!!" At this point, she completely breaks down and is completely sobbing.
The words hit me like a Mack truck. I can't breathe. I can't move. I can't think. If hearing I had cancer earlier in the day stopped time, hearing the word colostomy completely froze it. It was like being punched in the gut; you can't get oxygen and your whole body is paralyzed briefly. I think I yelled at her. I am not really sure. What I do know is that I bawled my eyes out. It all came crashing down on me as the gravity of the situation started to hit me. This was not going to be one of those easy fixes in life. No. This was some serious shit. No pun intended. I still did not know what lie ahead down the road, but I knew for certain it was going to be a rough ride.
Time stops. What? Me? A tumor? Cancer? Radiation? Chemo? Oh My God, my hair is gonna fall out. ....I swear that was my first real thought. I've been on some heavy drugs that are still floating around my system, clouding my brain. I start to cry - right there at the table of a Chinese restaurant. I can't stop it. The tears just start flowing. This can't be right. But for some reason, I am not as surprised as maybe I should have been. I think I already knew. I don't know, I think the subconscious knows more than it lets on at times. Denial is not a river in Egypt.
We finish lunch; well, sort of. My appetite is suddenly gone. The car ride home is a quiet one. I get home, exhausted from the procedure and the anesthesia. I make myself comfortable and start sending messages to my friends. A few even come over to visit, and tell me how much they love me. I don't fully understand what is happening, but I am determined to accept my fate and face it head on. No worries, right?
Later that evening, my mom and I are talking about the cancer and what it means. She is trying to explain that according to the doctor I will need to undergo radiation and chemo, followed by a surgery. I am not thrilled about the idea of radiation or chemo. "Why can't we just skip right to the surgery part?" She doesn't really answer. I press on. So now I am being stubborn. "But I don't want chemo! I don't want to go through that!" I am getting frustrated. So is my mom. We start to argue. She is getting more and more agitated, which is only infuriating me further. Finally, she explodes. "You don't understand, Jennifer!" She is practically yelling and visibly tearing up. "If they can't shrink the tumor with radiation and chemo, you are going to have to have a colostomy!" "Permanently!!!" At this point, she completely breaks down and is completely sobbing.
The words hit me like a Mack truck. I can't breathe. I can't move. I can't think. If hearing I had cancer earlier in the day stopped time, hearing the word colostomy completely froze it. It was like being punched in the gut; you can't get oxygen and your whole body is paralyzed briefly. I think I yelled at her. I am not really sure. What I do know is that I bawled my eyes out. It all came crashing down on me as the gravity of the situation started to hit me. This was not going to be one of those easy fixes in life. No. This was some serious shit. No pun intended. I still did not know what lie ahead down the road, but I knew for certain it was going to be a rough ride.
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