Title courtesy of my friend, Tasty Bev.
I guess I’m not going to die from getting ebola virus from having monkey poop thrown at me and hitting me in the eye.
I have a small tumor in my left breast. (BUT AT LEAST IT’S SMALL AND YOU CAUGHT IT EARLY, SALLY!) I don’t think it’ll go badly, but wow, cancer might just be the biggest word I know. 6 deadly letters. Words I can form from the word cancer:
can, car, rec ran, acre, arc, race, crane, near, nacre, era, ear, earn, ace, are
I have a lot to process, but so far I’m landing on fear, rage, disbelief, but at the same time a sense of “of course!”, frustration, and wonder. I’ve been totally disassociating it from my body-I’ve been telling myself not that I have cancer, but that I have a very small cancerous tumor in my left breast, (I always hated that breast the most.) so I’m repeating my regular mantra (I am safe and I am well. I am healthy and I am loved) and following with I have cancer, so that I am forced to confront it.
I have a feeling it’s going to all be fine, but I also think this is a big fucking deal, and it’s okay for me to feel like it’s a big fucking deal.
More cancer to follow.
sallyism 