He Calls Me Champ in These Foolish Things

I haven’t been writing, and you probably know what that means. Yes, there’s been too much for me to process lately and I’m scared and confused and don’t have a lot of answers to questions.

Where was I last?

Oh yeah, pulling strings out of my ass and getting a rash across my belly.

Turns out, the rash was likely an allergic reaction to the pain meds, so they both go on my allergy list. Doc says don’t worry - there are plenty of other pain meds in the world. Okay.

Since then, I’ve had no more pain meds (yay, because no more pain!), no strings, but some good and yet some scary news that I will share, but I can’t really answer questions about because I need further information myself.

So, had a follow-up appointment scheduled with my surgeon (Hot Butt Doc) to go over what the incisions look like and also to follow up on the success and pathology of the surgery. For some reason, the doc office kept moving the appointment around and around. Surgeon had gotten called into other surgeries, etc.

During one of my phone calls with his office, I happened to ask the woman on the phone if my pathology had come in yet and she was like, “let me look” and comes back on the phone and says that yes it had come in and blah, blah, blah and lymph nodes and that I’m going to need oncology.

Of course, I googled the shit out of what I thought she’d said and essentially decided that I’m dead. I ended up crumpled on a park bench in my favorite park just…looking my mortality in the eye. Have you ever seen your end? Do you know what it looks like? I was looking at the end and it was soon.

The rest of the day was a blur. I have no idea what I did, but I think I walked the dog and I know I talked with my parents on the phone.

Of course, my dad insisted on going with me to this appointment and I was like, okay…that’s fine, but I told him that he needed to brace for the worst. I certainly was. How do you tell your dad that you are soon gone?

And how do you even move through your DAY?

Bizarrely, I had a fucking dentist appointment the next morning before that fateful surgeon appointment and I actually kept the appointment ONLY because I love the receptionist there. Her name is Carla and she sends me love almost on a daily basis. I truly think the world of her…I guess mostly because she’s absolutely cared about me since the day I started going there. There are not a lot of people like Carla in the world.

I got into the hygienist’s chair and Hygiene Girl started her cleaning, telling me that I needed to do this or that in the future around my back teeth and even though my eyes were closed, the were rolling to the top of my head. You’re telling me to brush or floss differently??! NOW? During my life’s biggest moment of crisis?!

Ugh.

But I made it through and got extra love (and a hug) from Carla. I made a hug exception for Carla because she means so much.

Then it was time for my dad to get here to go with me to the surgeon appointment. Turns out, mom was with him! I found out after they got here that mom had to drive because dad couldn’t stop crying. Oh the heartbreak! I mean, how do you ease your sweet dad’s heart in this moment? How do you ease your own?

HOW?

Well, I’ll tell you how. You do this shit together and you get through it together. We may be some fools, bumbling and stumbling around, not knowing how to act or react or whatever. But we made it to my fucking appointment somehow. Again, I’m not sure how we even got there.

The short story is, when I finally got to see the surgeon and he looked at my incisions and then talked about what’s going on is this:

1. The surgery to remove the Mass in the Ass was a success. He got it ALL out and he was even impressed with himself that he got it all out through the largest incision (which is not very big). Apparently, they normally have to make another, larger incision on many people to get all that colon out.

2. The pathology says that some of my lymph nodes are involved, which means further steps…which means chemotherapy.

NOW. What he told me AFTER that was actually a relief, if you can believe it or not. See, I truly thought I was in Stage 4 and pretty much dead based on the phone call with the scheduling person. But I am NOT in Stage 4. I am in Stage 3. Please don’t ask me any questions about this because I have not yet with oncology and I’m not going to google anything yet. I am not ready.

But the surgeon said that I will do well. I know it sounds crazy, but he’s been saying this to me every step of the way and he’s been right every single time and I believe him.

I WILL DO WELL.

So, that’s my update for right now. I won’t meet with oncology for another week (we meet March 15th and then have the port placed a few days later).

I will go back to work on Monday and try to catch up with what I missed the last couple of weeks.

I will continue on with things I need to continue on with and begin, once again, to heal my body. I’m arming myself with good vibes, good food, good reading, good friends, nothing but good stuff.

I’ve been here before - just in different forms. This is nothing I can’t handle.

I will admit, I’m scared, but nothing truly GREAT in life comes easy, and this is going to be a rollercoaster, I’m sure. You’ve always been there for me, and I can’t thank you enough. I want you to be with me through this.

My parents and I ended up having a late lunch after the appointment, and it was so special to me. We laughed and we cried and I love my folks so much - I can’t express it with words. They just don’t do justice.

Also, I somehow made a new friend on Instagram who is giving me life. He loves my handle because is has to do with champagne, so he calls me “Champ” and I love it. We text a lot.

More soon.
I love you,
GS