I thought of how I would write this. How I would say this to soften the harshness. How not to sugarcoat… no; but how not to be scary, not to be alarmist. But there is no way to say it in any other way. In the past two weeks I’ve been diagnosed with multiple uterine and ovarian tumors. The words tumors and cysts are being used. Not interchangeably but to describe two types of growths that are taking over my body. “Rogue cells” the doctor said and he wasn’t trying to be funny but it made me laugh with the X-Men connotation. Today I had more tests done. Tomorrow there will be more. Biopsies and further invasive procedures. Treatment options are being discussed. Surgeries, laparoscopies, lasers, medications, post procedural follow ups. Expectations. They cannot tell right now. At least they managed to stop the bleeding which was killing me. I was fading away in a constant stream of blood that led me to pass out. That’s how it all began.
I think of my father who died of cancer at age 49. That’s a few years away for me, not even ten. I was exposed to asbestos since the day I was born till I was well into my 20s. The asbestos killed my father. Since then, I have always known it’s a real possibility that I will have to face myself one day. That day might as well be now.
Never been much of a fighter. Not for things that others take for granted at least. Had what many would describe as “a tough life”. No way to say this nicely: fucked up life full of shit and pain and grief, deprivation and sadness. We overcame. My brother and I. He went on to be very successful at what he does. I went on to build what I always wanted: a home. I own nothing. I have a few possessions that are best described as house plants and pets. A few clothes, a few photographies, some good memories, great food, the company of the kindest partner one would wish for and a computer (and an iPad). If I was to die today, I would leave nothing to anyone and I am fine with that. I lived, I spoke, I wrote, said a few things that might or might not be remembered but I never wanted to own things to begin with. I am not being hyperbolic when I say that I even discussed that if the expectancy is bad I would get rid of my clothes while I am still here so that nobody has to deal with the pain of doing it when I am gone. I’ve seen what that did to my mother how it consumed her and I wouldn’t put anyone through that if I can avoid it. Leave a small footprint in stuff. Try to leave a bigger one in ideas.
I don’t know if I will be writing much in the next few weeks. I dread the internet right now. I know there might be people who take solace in wishing cancer kills me. This happens every time someone who is visible goes through misfortune. I expect I will not be an exception. I do know now that I do not want to write about every step of my treatment or procedures. That might change in the next few days or weeks but right now I want to reflect and think and endure. Like so much of my life has been about endurance and this will be no different. Clenched teeth, swallowed tears and snot and moving on. My body is trying to kill me and I am going to do my best not to let it. In the meantime, I’ll be around when I can, trying my best not to think too much.
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