So That Was Fun

Today I went to my urologist for my one-year cancer screening. Today was supposed to be the day that my doctor would tell me that I was still cancer-free. Today was supposed to be my Ned Flanders Day (@hollymarshmallow). Today was supposed to be the day where I put on my big girl britches and got through this appointment so I could have a treat as a reward on the way home from the hospital. Instead, as I lay wincing at the discomfort of the camera being fed through my urethra, my doctor says within moments of gaining sight of the inside of my bladder that cancer has returned.

Why am I surprised? Because I was one hundred percent sure that the cancer could not be back. This would be a quick in-and-out visit and we could all rest easy. The cancer was so minor the first time. It was caught so very early. I barely needed an hour’s worth of chemo after the procedure that removed the tiny tumor. How could I worry that it would come back when it was hardly there to begin with?

When I was first diagnosed in August of 2023 I didn’t cry. I didn’t freak out. We already knew something was wrong. I had had blood in my urine earlier that summer. A mass showed up in the CT scan my primary doctor ordered. It wasn’t going to be a shock for my urologist to say something was there in my bladder or that it was cancer even because I already KNEW it was there. I was quiet. I was resigned. I knew that all I could do was pray and follow the care plan the doctor had laid out for me. I just had to fight a little and this would all be over. Was I being positive or naive? Yes.

I honestly spent more time leading up to today’s appointment mulling over what my reward should be for getting through the follow-up appointment rather than wondering “What if the cancer came back?”. In fact, I don’t think I actually entertained that idea at all. Which is why I took it so hard in the office today when the doc told me I have cancer again. I think my exact words were “Are you shitting me?”. Charles, my husband, says that I said a few more choice words but I honestly don’t remember. My anxiety-ridden, Lisa Simpson, over-achiever brain started wondering where and how I failed. What did I do wrong to bring this back? I’m no longer a proud cancer survivor, I am a person with cancer… again.

I’m not proud to admit it but I cried in front of the doctor. I could tell it made him uncomfortable and he did his best to reassure me that as far as cancer goes I’m pretty lucky. I think his exact words were “If you’re going to pick a cancer to have, this really is the best one.” Thanks.

I don’t feel lucky, I feel tainted. I feel touched, marked, followed by a gray cloud, and changed by something that wasn’t there before. And now that it’s back I feel like it could always come back. There is a real crack in the dam now that could let any number of terrible things through. It’s just another round of “hardly anything” cancer but once that is through the crack… what other horrors could be on the other side of that dam wall, waiting to break through and drown me?

I know it was very naive of me, however, I had told myself that I found that 2023 bladder cancer early, we took care of it, and that’s that. I put that shit in a box, compartmentalized it, and filed it away under Done and Dusted. ‘Tis neither done nor dusted and I’m frightened and pissed off.

Tomorrow I will be okay. I will pray. I will thank God for all of the blessings that he pours out on me daily. I will be grateful that the cancer was caught so early again. And that I have access to quality care. And that I have a wonderful support system around me. I will get back to planning what seeds to start for the spring garden and painting a new sign for the roadside stand. Tomorrow.

Tonight, I will pray and try to unravel these new feelings as I wade through them. Anger, confusion, frustration, self-pity, fear, anxiety. The gang’s all here! I will watch some TV or read my book until I feel good and tired then I will sleep and let go of all the aforementioned feelings. They need to be felt and acknowledged, yes. However, like petulant children, they should not be indulged. After giving them their moment, they need to be left behind so I can move on to other things that will serve me better. Things like hope, gratitude, perspective, and joy.

Tonight I am frightened and pissed off. Tomorrow I carry on.