It's really not that bad, but...

I'm in a funk again. It's not a deep funk, more like the shallow end of the funk pool. Where your upper half gets fried in the sun but your lower half is safe and cool below the water. But a funk nonetheless.

To bring everyone up-to-date, and to compartmentalize some of this shit in my own brain, here's the deal. I'm a cancer patient. Hate it. Hate it a lot. I've been much more fortunate than some, but was handed the shit end of the stick and I'm still holding on. Boo hoo, I know.

I've already had the surgery and one round of radiation. I now have to be scanned for the rest of my life for possible recurrences and take medication every day or I croak, and just those 2 small things sometimes seem impossible to comprehend. I had a clean scan last year but the one this last March showed a "shadow" in my neck. I saw my doc June 17th and here's the deal.

There is no deal. I still don't know what's going to happen or what I'll have to do. And this has left me incresingly pissed off and deflated. I was ready for a game plan and I still don't have one. My doc rushed me through the appointment and I didn't get to ask all of the questions I wanted to. This is partly my fault. I didn't come with a list, although most of the time that doesn't matter because they'll scoff at you anyway and ignore it. I didn't speak up and make him listen. But when you're in that situation things turn all swirly and bewildering and before you know it you're back in your car saying, what the fuck just happened?

I have to have an MRI tomorrow to see if there's something wonky going on in my throat, since I'm having some trouble occasionally choking. More needles, more worry. I'm not claustrophobic, so having my head locked into the machine for an hour doesn't bother me, but the mere fact that these tests are meant to find things scares the piss out of me. It's hard to communicate just how stressful this is and how hard it is to keep a composed face. There are moments when I think I'm going to lose it for good.

If the MRI is fine, then I have another scan in October. If not, I have no idea. Surgery? I don't know, but god damn I hope not. If the scan in October is fine, then I wait another year and do it all over again. If not, then it looks like another round of radiation with med withdrawl and 6 months of feeling 10 times worse than I do now. But everything is dependent on everything else.

So, that's that. I'm keeping my smile in my back pocket because I can't seem to manage it today. I don't mean to splash anyone with my bummer, but this is how I feel. And of course this weight on my mind makes every little stinking problem seem as big as Mt. Everest. If I could ever fucking sleep I'd be doing that instead of trying to fake it through this week.

Wish me luck.