My 'I Have Cancer Announcement' To The IG/FB World

So, this is Cancer. And yeah, this is me. And, this is me with cancer. 
I was diagnosed with cancer. 
I. Have. Cancer.
I have cancer.

Two weeks ago tomorrow, an hematologist oncologist told me, as I grasped Alan's hand harder than I had in years, that I have cancer. 

We've known for, well, for years now that my body sucks. It seems to take the, "If it can go wrong, it will," attitude towards life. This, however, well, this we were not expecting. Cancer at barely 42 was a surprise. Even I was shocked by my body's decision to fail me this hard. I mean seriously, body-- 

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

So here I am. I'm left not knowing what to say. Because how the fuck do you tell people that you have cancer? Distant family, old friends with whom you haven't spoken in years and years... There's NO GOOD WAY. Believe me. I tried ALL the ways. I tried the overly upbeat, I'm totally fine way, that ended up with extended family telling me, "I'm so happy for you!"--That was definitely NOT the goal, so I for sure screwed that one up. Just as a side note, when someone tells you they have cancer, NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY, DO NOT SAY YOU'RE HAPPY FOR THEM. Cancer is always a shitty diagnosis, no matter what, Just say, "I'm sorry," when they first tell you. PLEASE. 🤷 After many awkward attempts between family and friends, friends gave it to me straight. Ultimately, my dearest friends told me that when I simply told them, "I was diagnosed with cancer," and then we talked about how I was feeling, felt best to them. So that's sort of my approach here...

So... I was diagnosed with cancer. I have Essential Thrombocythemia, which basically means that I had a gene mutate so that my platelets are always being produced. ALWAYS. Because of this, they're not always produced correctly, so their shapes aren't always correct. Sometimes they're giant, like literally Giant Platelets! Anyways, I'm at a high risk for blood clots--Heart attacks, DVTs, strokes, TIAs, Pulmonary Emboli... In fact, I've already had multiple blood clots in my lungs, so instead of only needing Aspirin as a preventative, now I'm in a higher risk category, and thus I got to start... 

🥁🥁🥁🥁 roll, please: CHEMO. Every single day for the rest of my life, I get to wake up, briefly enjoy the sunshine, the view, the gratitude that I'm alive, and then remember that I have cancer and need to take my chemo pill at least once, possibly twice a day. This pill that I'm putting into my body has a warning on the bottle that says that if you should touch the pill, you should wash your hands because it's so toxic. 🤯 So I can't touch it with my hands, but I'm supposed to swallow the fucking cytotoxic pill into my body? That's so comforting. No wonder I'm crying and yes, okay, dealing with PTSD, while taking the chemo every morning. Easy peasy. 🤮

Cancer is a really fucking loaded word around here. To say that cancer has touched my life is, well, maybe the greatest understatement of the century. Suffice it to say that I'm very grateful to have a therapist who is well versed in trauma work. So grateful. Let the work begin...

I have cancer. I was diagnosed with cancer on Wednesday December 14th, 2022. No, it's not curable, ever. It's also, hopefully, not going to kill me for at least 20 years--that's the goal. So yes, I'll have to live with cancer every single day for the rest of my life. But when it does kill me, it will, ironically, probably be AML, the cancer that tried to take out my unbeatable-husband when he was 16, or it will be Myelofibrosis, a cancer of scar tissue in the bone marrow. We all know how good my body is at producing scar tissue, sigh. Just look at my back for that...

For now, though, I'm learning to live with cancer. I'm learning to cope with the two worst symptoms of this cancer: Pruritus and chronic severe headaches/migraines. The Pruritus, the full body, NOTHING CAN MAKE IT GO AWAY, is the worst, Research has shown that it's worse that chronic pain. You just want to die. I can vouch for that. It's panic inducing. And you do just want to die. It's horrendous. There's no cure. No fix. No amount of lotion. No right lotion. No bath. No shower. No antihistamine. No anxiety. No fix. PURE MISERY.