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.
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, kk.
Hit the reset button.