Do you ever think, you worry about the stupidest shit? Years of anxiety over dates, parties, work, nonsense. Too much thinking about what-ifs and what-thens.
Real worry didn't start until I had kids but ironically I've been able to power through most of it. Is that headache just a headache? Does he cry too much? Will he learn to ride a bike? Will he be tough? Will they be ok?
Several months ago, I started having bleeding when I went to the bathroom. Looking back at that sentence I want to poke myself in the eye over how long it took to get to the doctor. I still ended up where I am now; it could have been quicker and maybe easier. But this is not the time to beat myself up. I can only say that I hope I can carry the lesson from that procrastination on to other experiences. You can't run away from things. They will catch you with their gnarly little hands. The fear monster only grows if you let it feed and fester.
Fast forward to last Friday, finally at the doctor. Side note, I guess people really did not like the word PROCTOLOGIST because they are called Colo-Rectal Surgeons now. The title change did not make me feel better. When my doctor referred me to the COLO-RECTAL SURGEON my stomach dropped right then and there. I was praying for hemorrhoids to be causing the bleeding and discomfort- imagine praying for hemorrhoids. The exam entails kneeling on a special exam table and laying with your stomach on the table if you can picture it. Sort of like laying down while kneeling on that pew thing in catholic church. "Pull down your pants and kneel here". Then they tilt the table forward so your butt is in the air. Fun times. There is then a brief period of poking prodding shoving a tube in and further prodding that probably took a minute or two but felt like oh so much longer and damn it HURT. Now I know why it hurt, so it's probably not so typical that it's that bad. Once that is done, off to the office to talk. Cut to the chase--- hemorrhoids are not my problem. He felt a mass in my rectum. There were a lot of words and instructions to follow, which culminated in scheduling a colonoscopy on Monday and a CT scan on Thursday "if needed". I walked out holding a colonoscopy kit and referrals and instructions and just flat out in SHOCK that this was happening because it was exactly my worst fear. Why? Because deep down I knew what this was.
Let's discuss colonoscopy for a moment. I was DEATHLY afraid of it. I mean so scared. That's probably the main reason I put off going to the doctor for so long. I thought all roads would lead to colonoscopy and I didn't want it, no ma'am. Well I'm here to tell you that was just stupid. The worst part of the whole thing, other than just anticipation and just not knowing what to expect, was the drink. It was very hard for me to get down because I can't stand artificial sweetener and it's just a 16oz giant mess of sickly sweet. But hey, really--- in the whole scheme of things? Meh. The actual pooping was really nothing. Just watery stuff coming out, no pain, little muss or fuss. Off to the actual procedure. They put in an IV, you go to sleep, you wake up. I had the best anesthesiologist in the whole world and felt like a million bucks when I woke up. I have had minor procedures before and have woken up groggy and nauseous every time, but not this time. Versed and Propofol- magic. Out comes the doctor with nasty pictures of what has been growing at the top of my rectum. Angry red blobs, "friable", "ulcerated". I swear I can't remember if he used the word CANCER but I think he did, and my mother seems to remember it too although both of our attention turned to the fact that she was about to faint. CANCER is not written on the report. He has 30 plus years of experience with this sort of thing, so I believe he knows what he sees, even though biopsy results were just taken during that procedure. A friend said today that "he is not God and only the biopsy results will tell." Anyway, the moral to this story is, there is no reason at all to avoid having a colonoscopy. You will survive the drink and the rest really is pretty easy considering. Also there are pills you can take instead of the drink (I am not a candidate for those due to another medication).
Next on the agenda, today I had CT scan scheduled. Clearly "if needed" came back as "hell yes needed.". Again I tried not to think too much about it until it was time to do it, but I worried myself over IV contrasts and drinking a ton of more yucky oral contrast and blah blah. The oral contrast made me feel a little off but tasted like water (a great BIG cup of it, more than 16 oz). The IV was pretty ok. I felt kind of tingly and heavy after. Maybe shouldn't have driven home in retrospect. The CT itself took all of 5 minutes from laying down to standing up. The people were very nice too.
So here I am. One exam (gross and ouchy), two tests (not remotely as bad as expected) later. Now I wait for it all to culminate in my doctor's appointment on Monday. Charlie will go with me and we will hear the results of everything and what the next steps are. In the meantime, it's nice outside, and I'm able to work from home, and it's my birthday in two days. I don't have to hear any news about anything for just under four days. I am trying to be open about this, tell people what's going on if they ask me how I'm doing, stay positive, stay present. This is really fucked up, no lie. But I really have no choice what with two little kids looking at me all the time, to power through all of it and get to the end.
There was a calling to me to write about this and share it. I don't know with who all yet but here it is and it's out of me and it feels good. The plan is that this thing will get out of me as well, and I will go on with my life and take care of my babies. That's all. May the universe protect me and guide me, and all of you too.
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