Okay, so I'm finally gonna talk about the updates since I received my scan results. I don't really know how to approach this anymore, I think my mindset and understanding towards God, healing, and faith have changed since my mid scan. It's not a bad thing, I believe. But it's complicated, and I no longer have any answers.
The technicalities. I'm just gonna put everything on here because I believe if you've been praying for me and you've been caring for me you'd like to know the progress, or lack of, in any way. The cancer far away from my colon has shrunk even more since mid scan (cycle three), but the cancer and the tumours in the colon have grown since then, although it is still smaller than the original. The procedures that follow: surgery, and more chemotherapy. I guess you could say it's a good thing that the one that has grown is in the colon and not far away, because that's where they aimed to operate on anyway. If it had been the far away ones that grew, I think surgery would have been a bigger bitch. That being said, because my tumours are so large, they have to operate conventionally, meaning a huge ass wound/scar. We are talking 18cm from the belly down. I honestly am freaking out because I do not do well with flesh wounds. And I am terrified of being under the knife. The chemo that follows would be a different one because the doctor is really concerned about how the previous treatment affected my skin. It is worrying because the previous chemo they gave me was the best one you could ask for. So this would be a less powerful/poisonous dose.
And so, my three-month flu bug is soon turning into a 9-month road to restoration, with so many other things to look out for. This includes the check ups before surgery, the medicine pre and post op, the side effects of the medicine, and the risks. Man, the risks. Wanna hear about them? They are quite terrifying and icky. One, I lose my womb (yay no more periods) and lose the ability to bear kids. Two, I lose my ovaries and would have to depend on hormone pills for the rest of my life (causing chemical imbalance in the body and a major impact on my appearance). Three, stoma. The shit. Stoma. This is some Stephen King, Stanley Kubrick torture. If they cannot stitch me back up proper because there is a leak, they would pull my gut out unto the surface of my stomach, and my gut would literally be sticking out. And I would have to attach a bag to that gut and poop and pee from there. And I would have no sensation whatsoever. So I wouldn't know when I actually have to go. And this bag would be kept under my shirt and I'd have to go to the bathroom to change it every day. (that's pretty gross, I'd probably change it every few hours). This reminds me of an episode of House where the girl lost the ability to feel. Everyone was saying how lucky she was to feel no pain, but she had no control over when she had to answer nature's call too. This, I really don't want. The nurse told me that some people carry the bag for 3 months, some, a year, others, for life. She wanted me to attend a support group for people with stomas today, and I was like hells to the no I ain't going to that shit unless I have that shit. Seriously. I don't want to do anything until I actually have to.
My chemo doctor is a pessimist. And my surgeon is a God-fearing man. I ain't comparing the two and saying they are polar opposites or have any kind of relationship with one another. It's just an observation. My chemo doctor talks to me like a rabbit, with pity eyes and a soft voice. His choice of words SUCK. If I had a dollar for every "unfortunately", "sorry", "it's not the best", I would have enough money to run away to Iceland and disappear slowly. Words. Matter. I should give a workshop on that in the hospital ya. He was so bummed out about my scan results. My surgeon, on the other hand, was really positive. Talking about how the cancer away from the colon has shrunk. And how he would aim for cure and not control because I am young (and have a bright future ahead yadayada). This is rare because normally they would just aim for control for a stage four patient. Then again, chemo doctors give medicine. They would give it for life. Surgeons are supposed to cut cut stitch stitch heal. So maybe that played a part in their attitudes. I REALLY LOVE MY SURGEON. He gets me. And he spent time with the sister when she came to do her tests so he knows how shitty this house is. And he always gives me private time with him because he understands I keep quiet about many things when the parentship is around. Anyway, he is also a man of faith so speaking to him really gives me the boost and faith I need. Luv. He also handed me his personal contact number and said, if you have any problems, feel free to contact me. even after surgery. about anything at home or anything at all. LOVE. This man macam cell group leader hahahaha.
I was super grumpy the whole day after getting the news, and the parents were just completely insensitive, dragging me in to their petty squabbles. Do I look like I give a shit about you arguing? Dudes. Shut up. I know I have to deal with this and I am afraid my illness would drag just because I cannot deal with this. But honestly. Imagine going through a life or death situation and your parents are just shit. All I want from now is silence. I don't want to hear them, or speak to them. Just be quiet. That's all I need. My nurse told me that since my disease isn't genetic there's a high chance that my cells mutated from stress. She said we live in a world where work is so stressful. I was thinking, bij pls. Work calms me down. But I grew up in a battlefield so that might explain it.
Everyone thinks I'm crazy because I keep thinking about school. How am I going to go through the rest of the semester? I just emailed the profs saying if things go well I'd be back in a month. If things get complicated I'd take LOA. But rly. I just wanna forget about ALL my responsibilities, and just attend classes for fun. Without having to do the work. It's pretty selfish of me but that makes me quite happy.
The girl who copied my writing requested to follow me on instagram again. Let me tell you why I got pissed off. a) when you use my words for your own illness, you trivialise and invalidate everything I am going through. you cannot call pills (that have no side effects) poison, when I call my chemotherapy poison. have you not realised the shit it puts me through? I know I always say that everyone's Goliaths is their own and you cannot compare or belittle someone else's giant. BUT, using MY WORDS, and how I DESCRIBE MY ILLNESS, and using it for yourself, seriously trivialises what I am going through. b) dude, have you no pride in your writing? plagiarism. you have no voice. I know that we are all influenced by others and there is no such thing as originality, but your blatant plagiarism pisses the shit out of me. c) I write what I feel, the physical the emotional the spiritual. that is me in words, that is my insides exposed for the world to see. when you take my words and call it your own, you rip the skin off my body and put it on yourself. d) WE ARE NOT FRIENDS. I don't know you, I hate that my friend gave away my number without my permission, and I hate that you barged into my life. I am a very selective person and I like my circles personal and small. just because we go to the same school does not make you a friend. you do not know me, so the words you say to me to "comfort" me don't work and piss me off even more. do not act like you know me. your suffering does not make me feel any better, do not unload it unto me. if you were a friend i would love you and care for you, but we have no relationship so why do you expect me to give you attention?
Just because I am sick does not mean I am a nice person. I admit I can be extremely bitchy (especially if you steal my work), and I am naturally selective with the people I trust and talk to. Just because I am sick does not mean I have to entertain others just because they "care". The words you say, you say to comfort yourself. To make yourself feel like a better person. To make yourself feel like you are doing good. But you are in no way helping me, because you do not know me. How can you comfort someone you don't know? You won't have the right words or the right ways to comfort. Maybe if it was someone else who was always nice and pleasant and a friend to all, your approach would've melted their heart. But that is not me. And I have given you enough warning about copying my work. So I will not give you any more space or attention or time. Please exit quietly. Thank you.