So they tell me I have cancer

So they tell me I have Cancer.

I find out by a phone call. A cold,clinical, robot like voice void of any feeling tells me,that I have some sort of metastatic breast cancer.Then she tells me to “Have a nice day,” and leaves me hanging on the phone,listening to a deadening silence,jaw dropped to the floor.

That was August 17,2015,4:34 pm. The exact moment,my life as I knew it ceased to exist.

I’m told my next step is to see my general practitioner.The entire staff is freaking out. The Nurse Practitioner writes something on her prescription pad and hands it to me. For a split second,I’m exhilarated ”What’s this?” “ A prescription?For pain meds perhaps?“  “Lucky me!”

My exhilaration quickly turns to disappointment. She has written, “Metastatic Breast Cancer”, with the word STAT  in bold,capital letters.the word STAT  is underlined not once,but twice! She tells me,this is some sort of golden ticket, apparently,anything medically related will be expedited. Prescriptions will be filled faster,I’ll gain quicker entry to Drs. Appointments etc.

I consider using my golden ticket to get backstage at the next concert I attend. Ill flash it at the security guard as I casually saunter by,leaving throngs of bewildered fans outside,wondering how exactly it is that I got in. I will call it my Pity Pass. I fold the piece of paper and tuck it safely inside my wallet.

The following week’s schedule is hectic, I am meeting with two separate oncologists at two separate clinics.Neither of them knows they are being two timed. Each schedules numerous labs,ultrasounds,MRIs,cat scans ,the list goes on. What impresses me is that they each have scheduled identical procedures for me. Maybe they are in cahoots.

I am still waiting for someone to fully explain to me what exactly cancer is and how it kills you.I ask the first Dr. questions about my treatment,about the disease,in return I am handed a stack of trifold brochures about cancer.Some are even in Spanish! I toss them in the nearest trash can on my way out of the clinic.

“You need to start immediately! STAT!!!” Says the  second DR.” Start What?” I ask.NO ONE has explained anything to me.The only words I hear are: Surgery,Prosthetics,and Wigs.Then she asks if I have chosen my caretaker. “Caretaker?? Why? What for? WHAT

I will need a caretaker? By when? Next week? On Tuesday?” “But today is Friday!”

I’m going snowboarding on Tuesday! I have concert tickets next weekend!

What about that guy I’m crushing on???? I have things to do!! Certainly a caretaker would get in the way!!

My head spins,I panic!! My hands shake ,I think I’m going to throw up!!

I think of my house,and my messy room. I have to clean my room! It cant be left like that! I need more time.What if something were to happen to me,? Id be so embarrassed.

A plan begins to form in my head, More time.YES! Of course! My room MUST be cleaned. first Certainly The Caretaker requires cleanliness.Cleaning will take weeks! My room is very messy.

I regain my composure. More time! That is what I need. Everything needs to be perfect before the Caretaker can come. I have so many unfinished paintings,surely they must be finished  I slyly think to myself.  Let’s see...there are at least a dozen,and each must be finished to perfection!

This could take several days, to weeks ,perhaps even months!! I am feeling much better.

The Caretaker will just have to wait.

I am on a roll now!I will need new paint brushes! I will have them made, by hand, from red crested tree rats’ hair in Colombia ,and delivered by boat,maybe by row boat….The Drs voice  snaps me  back to reality … She is asking about The Caretaker again.

Things are forever changed.Not a day goes by that I don’t have cancer. Suddenly there’s a big dark cloud wrapping its arms around me,squeezing me ever so tightly. The cloud follows me everywhere.It is large and looming and present in everything I see,everything I do ,everything I love,the dark cloud is there,casting  its shadow on my short term plans,crushing my dreams,invading all things precious.

It has somehow wormed its way into the music that I listen to. I am particularly upset about this.

Music.My safe haven. I can get lost inside a song.That is where I go to  create,or to be happy. Or to hide.Music is my dopamine. Nothing could touch me in there. Until now.

The cloud mocks me,urging me to choose my favorite songs,”What for?” I ask. “The playlist,of course,” replies the cloud,”for your funeral.”

“Ha! “I scream at the cloud, mustering up all of my courage, “I won’t NEED a playlist, I will have the actual bands THEMSELVES  playing at MY funeral! So there!!!” I enjoy a moment of triumph over the cloud,until I realize what it is that I have said. I begin to cry. I hate the dark cloud.

The cloud is on a roll, it decides to up the ante. It goes after my children! It gathers all its strength and wraps its large dark arms arms around first ,my son Jamie,and then my daughter Violet. It cradles their heads,as if saying “Take a good look ,remember every inch ,every line,every expression,every hair,Don’t even dare to blink,mocks the cloud.”Take a good look.This is as old as they will get for you.” says the cloud.  I scream, in sheer terror!

I hate the dark cloud.

Tuesday comes and goes. Without incident.Without The Caretaker.

In fact several Tuesdays have come and gone. Twenty eight of them to be exact. I am paralyzed by fear.I still have no answers. I reach out to several agencies.All sound so comforting,with names like Helping Hands,Loving Arms, Sunshiny Faces. Surely they will help me.They will make this disease and the dark cloud go away! I find no solace in these places. They speak the same language as the oncologists even topping them and offering up their attorneys at a low cost to me, for my “End of Life Plan!”

After much research on the web,I discover what cancer actually is,it’s not a disease,like something one would catch in a remote jungle. It is simply your own cells gone awry. How bad can it actually be?,I ponder, “If its my own cells mutating, doesn’t that give me some sort of superhero status?” ” Like The Incredible Hulk, who can turn green and grow these giant muscles? I am just like The Hulk! My cells are morphing! I  AM The Hulk!! I am a shapeshifter!!!  

I am still trying to navigate the world of Cancer and Drs. and treatments.It has been frustrating,especially for one who is under insured as myself. I supplement my diet with holistic foods,herbs,vitamins, exercise  and laughter! In the meantime,I am not dying from cancer, I am living with it.

My room is still a mess, There is just not enough time to clean.

Tomorrow,I am buying  two tickets to a Chris Cornell concert in Washington State for next  July. I am taking Violet for her birthday. I have a surprise for her. We are going her backstage!  

I open my wallet, just to double check that it’s still there. It is.

I smile to myself.

Life is good.