What’s wrong with this picture?

Attribution: Andy Mitchell, Glasgow, UKPhoto Attribution: WikimediaCommons, uploaded: russavia. Author: Andy Mitchel.

2014. Brand new year, but this isn’t what I had in mind. I was thinking, get EFFIN’ ALBERT done and start querying that bad boy. Prepare myself for The Call that will surely come from the indie publisher/those agents re: CHERRY. I started 2014 feeling really good about my writing, my chances; optimistic to the point of actually believing 2014 could really be The Year.

Three days ago, I hit the reset button.

Rewind to 2013, right around Thanksgiving. I started spotting. It was intermittent, very minute, but unexpected and cause for–not alarm, but concern. I made an appointment with my beloved gynecologist, expecting even before my exam that I’d be having a D&C in short order, to rule out any kind of polyp or . . . you know. Didn’t want to think it. Wouldn’t even say it. The fact that I’d had a polyp way back when made it easy to believe this was the same thing. I was hoping it would be, but I wasn’t going to mess around.

January 15th, I underwent a D&C.

Three days ago, I found out I had uterine cancer.

Hit the reset button.

On the 28th of this month, mr. kk and I shall be meeting with a gyno-oncologist person to discuss the surgical removal of various parts of my body in order to eradicate all remnants of the cancer that invaded my womb.

Deep breath.

Hit the reset button.

I told my family and friends. I’ve been allying their fears, and they’ve been allying mine. We’re keeping our chins up, our optimism. I’ve been grateful and humbled by the outpouring of love and support folks have afforded me. Folks I’ve hugged and talked to on the phone. The people at Absolute Write, my dear friends there. Everyone has helped me in some way or another, enveloped me in love, helped me keep fear at bay. Most of the time. I’ve cried once, bawling like a baby, falling asleep cradled in the arms of the person who loves me most, no matter what. I needed that release. I shall probably need it again, but that’s okay.

Know thine enemy, right? Yes, so I’ve done my research. Chances are good I caught that sucker early. It was small, my doctor said, ‘tip of the finger’ small and there’s a chance he got it all, first pass. I feel the same today as I did yesterday, last week, last year, so how could I be dying? Ergo, I ain’t. As a matter of fact, I’ve been able to laugh and joke that I can’t die yet, no effin’ way am I getting published posthumously, goddammit. This is a blip on the radar screen of my life, something to deal with, nothing to worry about. We’ll do what needs doing and get on with the business of living.

But sometimes, when I least expect it, my heart is gripped by a cold, unforgiving hand and it’s squeezing. I’ve been invaded. For whatever reason, I have been invaded by an enemy whose sole purpose is to consume and destroy me. How did it get in? Why didn’t I know? Has it already slipped through my uterine wall into my ovaries, my lymphatic system? Is it already too late? Is this the beginning of the end–

Hit the reset button. I have to, I must. Hit the goddamn reset button. Turn my back on fear. Get angry at that fucking cancer if I have to. Really fucking angry if I must.

Today I must and I’m talking to you, you little fucker. You don’t belong here. I’m telling you to go away. I want you gone and that’s what’s going to happen. I shall destroy you, eradicate you, burn and flatten you, smash and obliterate you, you sneaky fucker, you evil little fucker. You thought you could sidle in unnoticed and fuck with me? Not a chance in hell. You thought I’d crumple to the ground weeping and surrender myself to you? Give up? Curl up and die? Not a chance, motherfucker. I have a goddamn army behind me, didn’t you know that?

My doctor scraped your sorry ass from my delicate tissues, but just in case you slipped a little venom in me before he ground you up like hamburger and aspirated your slime, I am willing to have my uterus taken out, and whatever else the surgeon thinks should go, it’s going to be gone. If she thinks you might still be there, some little remnant of you in an ovary, a lymph node, it’s gone, motherfucker.  Bet you didn’t count on that, did you? Bet you thought I wouldn’t have the balls. You are so fucking wrong, you little fucker. You are so wrong. Whatever it takes, I’m getting you out of me because you aren’t welcome here, do you hear me? Never were and never will be you fucking, fucking

Deep breath.

Deep breath, kk.

Hit the reset button.

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15 thoughts on “What’s wrong with this picture?

  1. Big huuuuuugs, kk. You will get through this. Thank you for sharing this with us, and yanno we’ll be here whatever you need, right? Whether it’s a hug, or a kiss, or a boob-smackin’… 🙂

  2. ow, dammit.

    🙂

    Putputt, how do you do that: make me laugh and cry at the same damn time? I know, I know and I thank you so much, I’ve told you and I’m telling you. My little Putster.

    xoxo kk

  3. Deep breaths, kk. You’ve got a great army of support, and sounds like a great medical team coming together. You’re already taking names, I’m going to help you kick ass. 😀 Peace, love, and ((((((((hugs))))))) xoxo

    PS: I’ll lend an ear, a shoulder, my heart, but any licking that needs to be done will have to be done by the Hippo. :shudders:

  4. I was going to like this, but that just seemed odd. Like liking a post about someone dying. Not that you’re dying. You’re going to stomp on cancer’s ass and spit it out like the angel you are. (I like to think of my angels like the badasses they are portrayed as in Supernatural). Anyway, I can’t wait until you join the remission legion.

    • You are so sweet, Ashley. Heck, ‘like’ the damn thing. I don’t think any rules apply right now. Yes, I am going to stomp that mother-you-know-what in to the ground, grind my shoe. Did you ever see Arachnophobia? Great movie. There’s that scene when John Goodman steps on one of those spiders, watches it skuttle for a while and then he crunches his boot down on that thing, listens to the crack of the exoskeleton, grinds it down with a satisfying grunt, and lifts his boot. All you see are sticky spider guts. THAT is my vision. Nothing left of that cancer after I grind it into the dust, listen to that crunch when I break its back. Allow myself that grunt of satisfaction. Remission? Nope. Eradication, Ashley. Total and complete destruction.

      Says sweet little kk. eek. 🙂

      Thank you for your kind thoughts, I really appreciate them, AD.

      xoxo kk

    • Well Shay Dee, it certainly is shaping up to be a memorable one.

      🙂

      I have no plan on leaving this place without sharing my stories with a paying audience. 😀 Right now, I just want that sucker GONE. In the interim, I shall work on my ALBERT query, try to get that baby noticed by the powers that be. Feeling good about it. Right now, actually, I’m feeling pretty good about everything. The anger I felt earlier today has dissipated, for now anyway. I’m not scared. I feel like everything’s going to be all right, how can it not? I’m lucky in so many ways and I have a good attitude. How can I not be okay?

      Thank you for being there, Shay Dee. Thank you for thinking good thoughts for me.

      xoxo kk

  5. So many hugs, kk. We’re all here for you with whatever we can do.

    And fuck cancer. When I got my latest diagnosis, one of my friends said to me, “I’m sorry that we as humans, as scientists, haven’t solved this thing yet. That’s our failure.” I’ll say it to you as well. I’m sorry, kk, that science hasn’t beaten this thing yet and torn it from the world like the toxic weed it is. It just sucks, and it’s infuriating and unfair.

    And yeah. You’re awesome. Not just today, every day. In case you had any doubt. ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

    • How nice to wake up and see a note from my little sl.

      We shall overcome, of that I have no doubt. When, I don’t know. Stem cell research is the key, I think.

      In the interim, those of us facing the unknown shall take it one step at a time, doing what we can to feel healthy and happy. Because the alternative sucks.

      🙂

      Sending (((((((((hugs))))))))). I hope you have a happy day, sl. That’s what I’m gonna do.

      xoxo kk

  6. I’m doing well, sophox. It’s cold and snowing but I’m warm and toasty. I have my joe and mr kk’s cooking for me. Life is good.

    Appreciate your prayers, sophoxymoria, very much. Thank you.

    ~ kk

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