Poor Cheryl...

Summer is rolling along and it has been good.  The boys have learned about sunburns and how I was really serious about having to wear a swim shirt!  We have already taken a road trip to Yosemite, the boys have done Golf Camp, Nolan did Cooking School, Mason did Basketball Camp and this week they are at Camp Berachah.  Camp Berachah is the funnest thing ever.  They pick them up in front of a church in downtown Kent in the same bus many of us rode to camp in.  I am sure it is two or three engines ago, but you know what I am talking about.  They swim, do arts and crafts, archery, etc.  Mason is in horse camp, so they each have their own horse and ride everyday.  Sprinkle it with a little fellowship and prayer and it truly is a special place.  The reason I bring this up is Monday was the boys first day and my kids arrive by bus, so I texted Cheryl to be sure she was driving Carter and Ethan so that she could make sure Nolan got to be in Carter's group.  Ethan is usually with Mason, but when Mason signed up for Horse camp, Ethan said, and I quote, "Have fun with that!"  Like, NO WAY I AM DOIN" THAT DUDE!  The have owed them a phone call, and photo swap since Yosemite, so I apologized and said what had been going on and that I was prepping for surgery while I was texting.  YEAH....she probably thought the same thing.......  I forget that me going into surgery not like "going to work", or "going to your performance review", or "pulling weeds", or "going to the store."  It is like, "HAVING SURGERY".  Let me back up.....

Way back in February many of you will remember that Aunt Flo came back....yes, the good period.  TWICE.  My Dad taught me that if it looks like crap, acts like crap, and smells like crap.  It is probably crap.  Substitute "a period" for crap, and you got it!  I told Hank, my oncologist.  He told me that I should probably go see my Gyn/oncologist.  I said, "Don't we have bigger fish to fry and it is a period.  It looks like a period, acts.....",  you get it. So, I did NOT go to my Gyn/oncologist and I did not have another period.  I told Hank and he said, "Well, we are down on fish, so why don't you go see the Gyn/oncologist?"  FINE.  Went.  Saw him.  Lovely gentlemen.  Has three women following him around and, as usual, I am a great topic of conversation for the "odd case".  I told him about the periods.  The conversation went like this, "Was this bleeding after intercourse?"  "Dr. I can't remember what I wore yesterday, so I couldn't tell ya."  "Was it after an accident?"  (confused look)  "I will take that as a no."  "Was it accompanied with pain?"  "Maybe."  "HMMMMMMM."  "Angela, (with his nice southern accent) based on all that has been done to your pelvis between the radiation and chemotherapy you should never expect to have period again."  He said it like, ".....or even in your next life, or the one after that."  We are going to need to get a biopsy and while I am not worried about this because of your scan and blood work (forgetting that my blood show no sign of cancer and never has), I need to do this relatively soon.  How does Monday look?  FRICK.  "Yeah, I am free."  "Okay, then, see you Monday."  I leave and tell them that I do not need a hospital packet, I re sight all the rules, when to stop eating, when to "prep", how to shower, etc etc etc.  And then I start the calls.  You get the kids.  Can you drive me?  Do you know how I like my blankets tucked?  No like Elaine does it.  Where is Elaine!  THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU.  I wake up in the middle of the night.........freaking out.  I can't do it again.  I can't.  I won't.  I can't and won't and I do not want to.  Grant gets me a pill and holds me till I fall asleep.  Last words...."I can't do it."  Grant, "Everything is going to be fine."

Surgery was on Monday.  They were waiting for my Dr. to come see me before and I was like, "I just saw him.  I am good.  Let's get this show on the road.  He knows what he is doing.  I know what he is doing.  You know what he looks like, so let's head out!"  So, we did.  Bed side manner and all is great, but it isn't like he does not know my Vawhowho!

I see the oncologist today.  Do not know if we have results, but he wants lungs x-rays to see if my hole is healing well and he has not had me start my shots since the surgery, so he must be testing something.  If taking the twice a day shots in my stomach is on the table, I will love him forever.

So, back to Cheryl.  This morning, I text Cheryl describing a rain jacket and seeing if she wan't me to send it to camp.  I think it is Carter's.  She responds quickly and says, "Not ours.  How R U?"  Poor Cheryl.  I am going to write and abridged version of what I wrote her..."I am okay......gyn/oncologist....biopsy.....not overly concerned....freaked out making my panic attack hiking (we went hiking in Yosemite and I did not know if I could do it....I did it) look like a beauty pageant....oncologist today."  I do not think she will ever ask me how I am again.  I wouldn't.  Oh well, liked them as a family......they were nice people.

Sometimes people think I roll with it really well and for the most part, I do.  But it sneaks up on you and comes out like a bad zit.  On the way to the bus, Mason and Nolan were praying for the rain to stop and in perfect time, a perfect reminder, and with all the right things said, "prayer."  So, a little prayer would be appreciated...thank you.  Pray for Cheryl too, poor thing.

Love, Ang