If you don’t like it, then hey *^@! YOU.

4 May

It was this week. Wednesday to be exact. We’re sitting in the backyard of our cancer-partner-in-crime. Sipping rosé with a cool breeze rippling across the tablecloth. Kids playing in the grass. She raises her glass and says, “Here’s to me taking one for the team.” As we clinked our glasses and laughed at the joke (and its inherent morbidity —a sense of humor we cancer people all share), I thought GDMF. What I said was, “No. You broke the pact.”

In my mind, we had a pact that was to be untouchable. AG, you’re in it. And so are you, RV. And you too, SH and CS. We are all supposed to be toasting to the end of fucking cancer. Not one of you — and I mean NOT ONE SINGLE SOLITARY ONE — of you bitch-asses are supposed to have it come back. We had a deal.

It’s funny because we have said the same thing to our closest circle. “We’re taking this one for the team.” The statistics should back that up, right. 1 in 5 or something? I said at girls’ night right after the hubby was diagnosed. “We’ll take this one. You just all be well. Mm-kay?”

Then CPIC went and had hers come back and blew it all to shit. Best laid plans.

I told her and the hubby that same night, “You guys blow me away.” Both of them getting pumped full of the poison, yet keeping up at work. With life. She said, “Keeping a sense of the normal is what I need most.” The hubby nodded. The two of them in cahoots. Craving normalcy when everything just seems all shot to hell. When her four-year-old runs up to her upon his return from swim lessons. Hair still damp. “Mommy? Where’s yo’ pump? It all gone? Medicine all gone? Mommy all better?”

Did you hear that >crack<? That was just me. Cracking wide open again. But trying to stay normal. Cause we all are. Just wanting to stay —and BE— normal.

She’s doing her thing. Slogging through. Making memories (her phrase). Chemo for three days. Off for 11. Then back again until her six month sentence is up. Scan in June to see if the remaining lung tumor (bitch-ass-ho) is all gone. And it damn well better be. Just sayin’.

As for us, we just wrapped up the six and 12 month testing cycle. Blood work. Oncologist meeting. Surgeon meeting. CT scan with contrast. Then a flex sigmoid scope. It all came at once like it will when it’s time for the annual scan and six month scope during the same timeframe. And with CPIC’s recent recurrence, we were white knuckling it through.

It’s like a chink in the armor when someone close and with the same type of cancer has theirs come back. We mentioned it during our oncologist visit and peppered her with questions about the hows and whys and what-to-dos. It made enough of an impression on her that she made a note in the hubby’s chart and our Dr. Asshole mentioned it to us this morning at the scope. Go figure.

I think we are just now in our new normal. Living life as fully as possible. Trying not to lose our shit when testing time comes around every 3 (blood work), 6 (scope) and 12 (CT scan and colonoscopy) months. And embracing being part of a new club where we sit in the backyard of a dear friend with cancer that has come back and know we are part of a team fighting the good fight.

The fight for the right to party. (That’s for you, MCA. RIP.)

TODAY’S THEME SONG: Crazy Ass Shit. Beasties. “So take it from me now I’m gonna give it all I got (got). I’ll take a licking, still tick tick tock (tock). Smoked salmon, ate old school lox (lox). A zooted buddha baby and I buy gray socks.” – Adam Yauch

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3 Responses to “If you don’t like it, then hey *^@! YOU.”

  1. vincentfam May 4, 2012 at 2:02 pm #

    You rock Matthews Fam!!

    Like

  2. Johanna Hauck May 4, 2012 at 2:14 pm #

    I hear you and feel every word you are saying. My Aunt (my only Aunt) was just diagnosed with stage 4 long cancer that has metastized to the brain, Chris is getting ready for surgery (finally!) on May 14th. I can’t believe we have technology that can pinpoint people from a satelite in space but we can’t cure f$*King cancer??????? So glad the scan looked good for Kenny, you all are always in our thoughts and prayers and of course those of our shared friend! XOXOXO

    Like

  3. Jennifer Jones May 4, 2012 at 3:52 pm #

    this post made me cry. you’re a beautiful and hysterical writer. love the MCA shout out and i’m with you on hating effin cancer. xo.

    Like

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