I had a bad week:
* We learned our 16 year old cat may have thyroid cancer.
* The nest of four baby house finches was ripped apart by an unknown attacker just two days before the babies were due to fly. Only bits of one corpse was discovered.
* I learned I may have cancer
Any week where cancer pops up once is a bad week but to have it pop up twice means it's time to go back to bed.
I had an extremely painful attack during my period. How painful was it? If someone had handed me a loaded gun, I would have unhesitatingly shot myself. THAT'S how bad the pain was. Fortunately, Mom handed me a Percoset and not a loaded gun.
Mom called a gynecologist the next day (because I was too wiped out to use the phone) and before she finished listing the symptoms, the receptionist said, "Get her here NOW."
I was examined and told it could be one of two things:
1) Endometriosis (which sucks)
2) "Pre-cancer of the ovaries and/or uterus" (which REALLY sucks. And no, I didn't ask what "pre-cancer" meant. You have a little bit of cancer in the same way you are a little bit pregnant.)
I have an invasive ultrasound scheduled for 13 August (my dog's birthday.) Just what is an invasive ultrasound? The ultrasound wand is STUCK up my TWAT. I'm not too sure you can get MORE invasive than that (and if there is -- I do NOT want to know about it.)
So, the important thing most readers of this blog will note (well, one of you, anyway) is this -- am I still going to Leipzig to see Peter Gabriel and the New Blood Orchestra in September?
You bet. Going to Germany with the knowledge my body could implode at any moment will make the trip that much more exciting.
That's why I'm paring this post with an image of PG instead of any other subject matter mentioned.
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