Monday, August 18, 2014


FML. Seriously. Fuck My Life. On Friday, I got a phone call early. "Hi, this is your mother's oncologist. Do you know what's going on?" Well, since you're an oncologist, I'm guessing my mom has cancer.
Today we had the definitive meeting with said oncologist, who is really very nice. It's got to be a terrible job, to tell people they are going to die a horrible painful death.
 My mom has stage 3/4 (indefinite) ovarian cancer, which has already metastasized into the outer part of her intestines, her uterus, and possibly her liver.  It has spread too much for surgery.  She is going to start chemo in a week.  Possibly the chemo can shrink it enough to have surgery.  Perhaps she might live 3 years.
This is what the Mayo Clinic has to say:
Ovarian cancer often goes undetected until it has spread within the pelvis and abdomen. At this late stage, ovarian cancer is more difficult to treat and is frequently fatal.
I was thinking before that the previous thing her ovaries made was me.  This cancer is my evil murderous sibling.

Follow up on Bible-thumper (see previous 2 posts): 

I wasn't able to go to the next group therapy after I complained about the Bible-thumper. That was the day my mom got her chest CT scan and they found a pulmonary embolism. Which obviously I haven't even mentioned because HEY what's one more thing that can kill my mom?   When the scan found the blood clot in her lung, they would not let us leave until they called her doctor, who had her immediately go to the ER and get admitted.  Probably the fluid in her lungs and the clot were all caused by the cancer.  Regardless, I was in the ER at the time of therapy.
If this week he says one fucking thing about his god to me I am going to walk out of therapy.  If I don't, I'll punch him.  I told my mom that and she said "Don't punch anyone."

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