Last week was rough. Along with being super busy at work, I got to prepare for my first big oncology visit. I had no idea what to expect and to say I was nervous would be a gross understatement. I heard rumor of lots of blood draws and a magic, new number that would tell me if I had any new “tumor activity.” Scary stuff.
But what really disturbed me out was the continual deluge of information flooding my in-box explaining, sometimes in great detail, exactly why I “got” cancer in the first place.
I thought I’d share a few of these lovely gems with you.
- I got cancer because a deity is punishing me. While I’m not sure what, exactly, I did to anger an omnipotent being, but it was bad enough that it would turn its attention away from bigger, global problems and instead focus on a little spot in my transverse colon. Go figure.
- I entered “Tumorville” because a deity is trying to get my attention. It’s a variation on theme one, but annoying nonetheless. Again, a busy deity should have better things to do rather than pester a midwestern writer.
- I’m “running away from god.” Huh. If I were running, wouldn’t I be tired? Oh, wait a minute. I have been a bit tired lately. I thought it was from major surgery, recovery, setbacks, emotional roller coasters and such, but I could be wrong.
- It appears as though I’m not a member of the correct religion and/or a particular denomination. If I’d joined the “correct” sect, I’d be just fine.
- Cancer arrived because I thought a negative thought. Yup. I admit it. I occasionally entertain negative thoughts. Little did I know that these little imps would turn my body toxic and create cancer. My oncologist disagrees, but these people evidently know more than him.
- I got cancer because I’ve eaten sugar somewhere along the line. Guilty as charged. Junior Mints are my kryptonite. (They’re the perfect candy in every way possible.) Another variation? I’m dealing with cancer because I don’t follow the “paleo” philosophy. On the other hand, I’m not vegan so that’s why cancer stopped by to give me a big “Heidi-ho.”
- I probably eat GMOs. Damn Monsanto. That’s what did it.
- Turmeric. I need more turmeric. Lots of it.
- It’s the pollution. If I didn’t walk so much, I’d be just fine. (This one has some merit. Once, when I was crossing County Highway 8, a truck drove by and I smelled some exhaust. Dang that farmer!)
- My body wasn’t/isn’t alkaline enough.
- I was stupid to have my tumor removed surgically and should have driven to Mexico and opted to have coffee squirted up my backside. (!) Those clinics actually cure cancer.
Gah. The messages are sometimes overwhelming, especially when I realize how imperfectly I’ve lived my quiet little life. I wish I understood more. I wish I could be a science smartie pants who understood every facet of this confusing thing I call my “body.” But, like Popeye, I am what I am.
So, as painful it is to walk though doors with the words “Cancer Center” emblazoned on top, I faithfully go to my oncologist who patiently rebuts each crazy email.
Did I mention I love my doctors? They’re kind. They’re nonjudgmental. They’re helping me cope with all the changes inside my body. They’re actually helpful.
My magic number came back fabulous. It’s supposed to be between 0.0 and 5.0. Mine was .8. Big sigh of relief. Looks like I’ll live another three months until my next test.
So, this week is much better. My imagination has calmed. Emails have slowed down to a manageable level. I might even enjoy a hot cup of coffee. I’ll take one cup with milk and sugar… orally. 🙂