I was horribly right
Just had the colonscopy. Not only did she change absolutely nothing in there, but she found cancer, for sure. Oncologist, at least a week to wait. Another week of this horrible existence, and then how long till surgery? Oh dear. And chemo kills hair.
Dammit, facebook sucks. I got back on there and I'm not sorry for the connections, but it never shuts up. You run away and you hear a "ting" from the phone saying someone's msg'd you. I had chat off, but somehow one chat gets in anyway. So I talked with her a bit, then asked her to just let it be a day. I'm in so much pain now I really don't need to pay attention to other people.
I'm pretty sure the pain is from the scope forcing it's way in. She said I was in too much discomfort to keep going, so I guess there's bruising and it sure feels like it. I'm hitting the hash pipe hard now.
Timmy is being extra needy. I understand. He's just a little being who feels the bad energy. Probably smells the sick on me too. Dogs can tell when you've got cancer. He doesn't know what it is, though, but he knows we're all not happy and relaxed. he's trying to force me to snap out of it. But I don't want to. I want to type about it. I tell others I believe I'll beat it, but in my heart I know there's no certainty. I asked the Lady over and over to kill me. Asked for cancer. Asked for this. I know that. I don't even know if I want to say yay or no to it now. I want that shining future living on the coast in a bus being part of a world with people in it. But it's a dream, isn't it? My current life is still in shatters, really. Financially, emotionally, physically. I think it can all be fixed, if I can get my health back, but I have been wrong a million times before and found myself just hanging on from homelessness by the skinniest of margins.
The rohypnol is a nice drug. I see why they use it for rape. Kinda what happened to me in some ways, physically speaking. Interestingly, it was all women in there. Every doctor and nurse was a woman. I liked that. It made me feel good to know women were succeeding in medicine to that degree. Not just allowed to do girl medicine, but the "serious" stuff that brings status too, and without a man watching over them either.
So the drug, it relaxed me delightfully. I could use more now... Apparently I talked the whole way through, that's the only thing I remember about it all, and they say they couldn't go deeper because it was causing me too much pain, and that I was really nice the whole time about it all. Ok. I felt so good when I started to come to. Like sunday morning waking for brunch. it was a nice break from how I've been feeling.
She showed me pics of my tumour up in there. There will be surgery. More? We'll just have to find out. The thing doesn't look like anything to me. Dan just peered at this page. Dammit. I do not want him reading it unless I'm dead. Just too much in here about him, and lots unflattering. It's just not necessary for him to read it, ever, at all. I doubt it'll do him any good and he won't like a moment of it I'm sure. This is where I go to get it out my system when I'm mad. Not a BFF, not an emotional bond to some guy, not in his face, here in this blog, nice and quiet to myself. Or something. To nobody I figure, though apparently there's a nice quiet reader occasionally checking in. I've had comments.
Hi. Please continue to be a mouse, it freaks me out when I get comments. I can check page metrics to know if someone's reading.
I just need to know someone *might* so I feel like I've got an ear. I am dead sure when Anne Frank wrote her diary she felt someone some day might read it. Doesn't everyone? Even if only "when I'm old I'll read it to myself." I've got some kid diaries and have indeed perused them. Makes me a bit ashamed. Well, probably not anymore, I'm mature enough to forgive a kid for being immature, LOL. It was classic silly kid after all. Sad kid, though. Kid with anger and sorrow and self pity all over. I wasn't having a great childhood, really. It had good moments.
I'd like to have a second life. One that has adventure and love in it. But if this is as good as it gets, well I guess I won't fight the cancer so hard.
Dammit, facebook sucks. I got back on there and I'm not sorry for the connections, but it never shuts up. You run away and you hear a "ting" from the phone saying someone's msg'd you. I had chat off, but somehow one chat gets in anyway. So I talked with her a bit, then asked her to just let it be a day. I'm in so much pain now I really don't need to pay attention to other people.
I'm pretty sure the pain is from the scope forcing it's way in. She said I was in too much discomfort to keep going, so I guess there's bruising and it sure feels like it. I'm hitting the hash pipe hard now.
Timmy is being extra needy. I understand. He's just a little being who feels the bad energy. Probably smells the sick on me too. Dogs can tell when you've got cancer. He doesn't know what it is, though, but he knows we're all not happy and relaxed. he's trying to force me to snap out of it. But I don't want to. I want to type about it. I tell others I believe I'll beat it, but in my heart I know there's no certainty. I asked the Lady over and over to kill me. Asked for cancer. Asked for this. I know that. I don't even know if I want to say yay or no to it now. I want that shining future living on the coast in a bus being part of a world with people in it. But it's a dream, isn't it? My current life is still in shatters, really. Financially, emotionally, physically. I think it can all be fixed, if I can get my health back, but I have been wrong a million times before and found myself just hanging on from homelessness by the skinniest of margins.
The rohypnol is a nice drug. I see why they use it for rape. Kinda what happened to me in some ways, physically speaking. Interestingly, it was all women in there. Every doctor and nurse was a woman. I liked that. It made me feel good to know women were succeeding in medicine to that degree. Not just allowed to do girl medicine, but the "serious" stuff that brings status too, and without a man watching over them either.
So the drug, it relaxed me delightfully. I could use more now... Apparently I talked the whole way through, that's the only thing I remember about it all, and they say they couldn't go deeper because it was causing me too much pain, and that I was really nice the whole time about it all. Ok. I felt so good when I started to come to. Like sunday morning waking for brunch. it was a nice break from how I've been feeling.
She showed me pics of my tumour up in there. There will be surgery. More? We'll just have to find out. The thing doesn't look like anything to me. Dan just peered at this page. Dammit. I do not want him reading it unless I'm dead. Just too much in here about him, and lots unflattering. It's just not necessary for him to read it, ever, at all. I doubt it'll do him any good and he won't like a moment of it I'm sure. This is where I go to get it out my system when I'm mad. Not a BFF, not an emotional bond to some guy, not in his face, here in this blog, nice and quiet to myself. Or something. To nobody I figure, though apparently there's a nice quiet reader occasionally checking in. I've had comments.
Hi. Please continue to be a mouse, it freaks me out when I get comments. I can check page metrics to know if someone's reading.
I just need to know someone *might* so I feel like I've got an ear. I am dead sure when Anne Frank wrote her diary she felt someone some day might read it. Doesn't everyone? Even if only "when I'm old I'll read it to myself." I've got some kid diaries and have indeed perused them. Makes me a bit ashamed. Well, probably not anymore, I'm mature enough to forgive a kid for being immature, LOL. It was classic silly kid after all. Sad kid, though. Kid with anger and sorrow and self pity all over. I wasn't having a great childhood, really. It had good moments.
I'd like to have a second life. One that has adventure and love in it. But if this is as good as it gets, well I guess I won't fight the cancer so hard.