December 7th 2012...

...was a day that changed my life forever. That was the day that I met the surgeon and he confirmed for sure that the biopsied mass in my colon was malignant. That I have cancer. That there are more tumors. That it's widespread. December 11th was the day that I met my Oncologist, and found out that I have stage 4b colon cancer. These dates are forever burned in my mind, they repeat over and over. December 7th. December 7th. December 7th. But the reality is I knew I was sick long before that.

I knew I had cancer a week earlier, after the CT scans, after the ultrasound, before the biopsy. I knew by the way the doctors talked to me, by the urgency of the tests. I knew when my gynecologist told me they found a 12 cm mass on my left ovary. I knew by the way she wouldn't say "cancer" but she wouldn't not say cancer either. She asked me what my support system of family and friends was like. A doctor doesn't do that if they are going to diagnose you with lactose intolerance or cysts. I knew by the way she looked at me.

And I knew before that. I knew when my digestive system was making my life hell for months. I knew when I couldn't sleep at night. Sometimes I think I knew years before. Like I have always had this dark cloud lingering just off shore. This feeling like I was always running from something. Not a fast run, but a jog, not panicky, but still just escaping, staying one step ahead, afraid if I stopped it would catch me.

Well fuck it, cause guess what? It did catch me. At least now I can relax a little, no more running, no more fears, because the last couple of months have been the scariest of my life, and so nothing else scares me anymore. Speaking up, talking about things, confrontation, bills, authority, police officers, mayonnaise, being alone, needles, heights, the ebola virus, stranger danger, people who drink midori. All things that I once found terrifying, all those fears gone. I have one fear left. Only one.  I'm very afraid of dying. And this fear has squashed all the others. In some ways it's a wonderful feeling, liberating, having all those other fears gone. But the dying thing. It's all consuming sometimes. I know the reality of the progression of the disease that I have, and I'm going to fight it as best as I can, but I'm also a realist. And the chances that it will kill me are greater than all of the other things that I was once scared of, greater than getting the ebola virus, or getting arrested, or accidentally eating mayo, or finding myself trapped in a room with someone who drinks midori. This cancer will kill me before any of those stupid, little things happen.

So in part that's why I have started this blog. To document my navigation through this fear, through this shitty, weird, surreal experience that is cancer.

Plus I get tired of writing you all back individually, but I feel bad if I cut and paste an email that goes to Will, and then also to my dad. Repeating myself over and over gets boring. So there. More to come.