Tuesday, May 26, 2009

No BReaST CaNCeR

So, here's another post I couldn't put up right away because of my mom reading my blog. I am OK, but here's what I wrote Friday, for your reading "pleasure." Lots of EFF bombs. I have not even gone back to reread ...

Well this is just fucking great. Another mini crisis in Manic’s life and she can’t even fucking blog about it because this is not an anonymous blog and if her mom reads this her mom will fucking freak out about it and I can’t do this to my mother, so instead, I have to sit here and tell no one. What is the point of having a blog if I can’t share the stuff that’s bothering me?

So, this is just great. First, we have a job loss, then Mr. Manic’s grandmother dies. I’ll start here since we just got back from the funeral in Minnesota. We left on Tuesday afternoon and get to a hotel in Wisconsin where I get a migraine and end up sleeping on the hotel bathroom floor dying of one of those headaches where you want to drill a portion of your head off in order to make the pain go away and also vomiting. At least the tile on the floor was cool. I have no idea if it was clean or how much of other peoples’ DNA existed on that cool tile but while vomiting and dreaming of drilling half my head off, I guess I didn’t really care. Finally, around 5 a.m. I felt well enough to get back into the hotel bed.

We get up and leave around 9 a.m. to head to the Minneapolis airport to pick up Mr. Manic’s sister and there’s some dumb fuck (more on that later) in front of us with a flatbed of crap flying all over the place in front of us. An aluminum piece of some shit (YES, I REALIZE I AM SWEARING A LOT IN THIS POST BUT I AM HAVING A CRISIS AND IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER TO SAY FUCKING BAD WORDS!) … so, there’s some aluminum shit flying off the truck and Mr. Manic tries to dodge it and misses the dodge.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we get a flat tire in five minutes,” he says.

FORTUNATELY, we DO NOT get a flat tire.

UNFORTUNATELY, we DO GET a temperature gauge reading of EXTREMELY HIGH like the car is about to freaking EXPLODE in five minutes.

We find the very next exit to pull off and thanks be to God almighty not far off there is a gas station with two service bays and some VERY VERY VERY VERY nice men there who help us out. That piece of aluminum crap from that asshole truck driver punctured the bottom of our radiator or some important piece at the bottom of the car, and antifreeze was not leaking, but practically gushing from the car.

Oh yeah, and while we’re getting the car fixed, why not get my period too. Doesn’t THAT sound like a fun addition to all the shit that’s going on?

One hundred dollars (remember also, my husband has just been removed from his employment duties, but I think we’re good in that department now, maybe, another crisis may impale itself into our lives because why the hell not?) … so $100 and an hour later, we are back on the road thanks to these dear, dear men, and we pick up my awesome sis-in-law from the airport.

And lo and behold, there is a glorious God because in sight, there is a Don Pablo’s and for those of you who don’t know what a Don Pablo’s is, it is just one of the greatest chains of Mexican food-slash-margarita places on the face of the earth, and when we lived in Pennsylvania, we could eat there any time we wanted. There are currently no Don Pablo’s in Illinois (apparently we are not cool enough for Don Pablo’s – OR CHIC FILA – get me started ON THAT – ANOTHER CRISIS!). So, we have a couple quesadillas, some chips, guac, oh, and yeah, MARGARITAS. We have to fuel up because while we know we are going to a funeral and there WILL be liquor, we also know there will only be loose meat and hot dishes to eat, so it’s urgent to get in some good Mexican food while we can!

Now, we are up to the funeral part, and here I am just rambling, because my mind is on overload AND autopilot at the same time and I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Oh, I also forgot that on the way earlier, I get an email that my editor boss whom I love, love, love is moving on to another venture. This may impact the future of what I want to do in terms of my freelance career with this certain organization. But, that’s neither here nor there … see what I mean about overload and autopilot?

At the wake, somehow, my kids make it into the funeral home before me, and it is absolutely crushing. Crushing for me to see my babies that shocked, scared, fearful, sad. They had only met their Great Grandma once, but knew of her, loved her, received birthday cards from her. THIS is their first family member who has died, and it’s a major, major ordeal for a child. My poor children. They had never seen a body before. I can’t really describe how it was for them, but poor Tukey, all dressed up, over at the casket, he would look, then sob, then walk away. Like he definitely didn’t know what to do. I didn’t see how Ajers reacted right away, but I know I saw him at the side and he was crying. It’s so hard for them. Diva had received a special locket from her Great Grandma with a photo of both her Great Grandma and Grandpa in it, so in turn, Diva wanted to find something special to ‘give’ to Great Grandma. She found a locket of her own and placed her photo in it. With the help of the funeral director (who, autopilot/overload, Diva and I were BOTH CRUSHING ON!), he led Diva to the body and placed the locket around Great Grandma’s neck to be buried with.

Oh my God, I am getting so tired of writing this. It is 6:51 p.m. Friday night and while I probably will not post this for a week, I could handle taking a xanax and going to bed for 16 hours right now.

Back to the funeral … After the family viewed the body and before the public came, we all had a moment to share some memories. There were not too many people speaking up. It’s hard to do this sometimes. I shared how Great Grandma would ALWAYS remember my kids’ birthdays, and even though she didn’t have much, she always sent them a card with four quarters taped to the inside of the card (incidentally, that night, I had some serious dreams of quarters. It was weird). So, then Ajers raised his hand, and his voice cracked and he started to cry, hard …

“I may not have known my Great Grandma very much …”

Then he broke down and sobbed, which in turn, made every single person in the room cry. He gathered himself, my little brave boy, and he continued …

“I may not have known my Great Grandma very much, but I do know this … she gave the best hugs in the world!”

It was the most beautiful thing anyone could have said, and so true. She was a giving, caring, selfless woman would NEVER, EVER thought of herself first.

On that note, I am gonna end this for now. I am hoping to have more information on the latest and greatest crap Manic news next week, but because I am so fearful of freaking my mom out because she thinks the absolute worst, I can’t share it. But, here’s the thing …

On the way home from our trip today, I check the voicemails at home and my mammogram came back and they need to do more tests on it. Interesting that during my mammogram, I’m talking to the lady, answering her questions, “No, no one has breast cancer. No, no one has ovarian cancer.” Then I’m asking her how many people get called back for retests. I’m all casual because I’m always sure my mammograms are fine, and HEY, I JUST FUCKING TURNED 40, and how proactive have I been, because I’ve been getting mammograms for five years already, and now all of a sudden, I have to go for additional testing and an ultrasound?!?!

And see, ten minutes ago, I was crying and upset. This second, I am pissed as hell about it. But then a while ago, I’m like, “OK, yeah, it’s my turn. I’ve always said, ‘I’m gonna get cancer someday so when’s it gonna be?’” And I guess I would rather have it be me than my husband because I know how to take care of me, and I’m not sure I know how to take care of him. You know what I mean? Like I know what I can do for myself to make me feel better, but if he were sick, I wouldn’t know what would make him feel better. And you know what? I would look HORRIBLE bald. And I don’t think I would be a very gracious cancer patient. I am not feeling very gracious right now. Oh, and here’s the other FUCKING thing that pisses me off. They call me to tell me I need to schedule additional tests, on FRIDAY OF FUCKING MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND. Then, no one answers the fucking phone when I call to schedule an appointment.

Do you know what this means for a person fretting over their health? Yep, this means, MY WHOLE ENTIRE FUCKING WEEKEND, AND POSSIBLY MY WHOLE ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE IS FUCKED, all because they couldn’t call me like a couple hours earlier. Those fuckers.

OK, this is making me feel so much better to just get all this shit out, and I will eventually post this, I just can’t do it right now because my mom will freak. Mom, you REALLY, REALLY REALLY MUST STOP READING MY BLOG, or I’m going to have to do a private invite only on it. Seriously, you don’t need the stress of it all, but by the time I do post this, I’m going to be fine and clear, and all this whole hoopla is going to be a huge mistake. That’s what I’m going to tell myself anyway. But in the meantime, thank you bastard people who called and left the message on my machine because you have just ruined FOUR DAYS OF MY LIFE, AND POSSIBLY THE REST OF IT.

Oh, and here’s another hilarious fucking joke about the whole thing. How cool of my body to wait to possibly get cancer until RIGHT WHEN MY HUSBAND LOSES HIS JOB SO WE CAN GET ON COBRA!?!?!? So if I need a mastectomy and radiation and chemo and experimental marijuana, cuz you can bet your ass I’m on THAT freaking bandwagon, well, then it’s gonna cost us a helluva lot more to fix me.

OK! CAN I TYPE THAT ANY LOUDER?

OK!

I THINK I AM DONE.

Update today, May 26, Monday: After four days of worrying this weekend I called the mammogram place this a.m. When she told me BOTH hospitals were booked until next week and I started bawling, MIRACULOUSLY the very kind lady on the phone found an opening and could I be at the hospital at 8:50 a.m.?

YOU BET YOUR ASS.

I drive to the hospital, and in the car I'm applying lipstick, thinking, "OK, this might be the last time I apply lipstick before I find out I have breast cancer. And then I'm waiting in the room in those stupid half-robes they give you and I'm thinking, "OK, this might be the day I find out I have breast cancer." And then I see the pink ribbon sign for breast cancer on the wall, and I think, "OK, now I am going to look at those pink ribbons in a whole new way." And then I think, "OK, now I will start racing for the cure sinc I am sure I am going to have breast cancer." And when I registered and the woman asked me if I brought anyone with me, and I said No, then I started to freak out a little bit, thinking, "How am I going to drive home knowing I have breast cancer." And then I think, "I don't want to have to write a book about breast cancer - there are too many of them out there."

The shit that runs through the mind when there's a scare like this.

Fortunately, my boobs are good. Thank you God. A-freaking-Men! I love my boobs.

And now, go to the previous post and enter to win Jen Lancaster's Pretty In Plaid because I am going to see her on Thursday and she is going to draw the winner.

Also, since I took a Xanax before going for the mammogram this morning, I am going to go take a nap because I fucking deserve one.

21 comments:

Kirsten said...

oh man. I'm so so so happy you are OK. I hope you had a nice nap. And I get you about your mother, I sometimes wish my parents didn't read my blog either. I feel bad even swearing in mine, although lately my mother has been dropping the f-bomb like there is no tomorrow, so I guess I shouldn't feel bad.

stewbie2 said...

So relieved that your boobs are good to go.

Sorry about the el-shitto weekend; glad you got Don Pablo's.

Much love.xox.

Tanya said...

I'm glad you're okay. Cancer can be scary, but fortunately its survivable. However, I think if you ever did go bald, you pull off the purple wig pretty well.

I've decided that if I ever have to have a mastectomy to remove breast cancer, I'm getting some huge implants. Got to make the best of a bad situation.

I'm so sorry about Mr. Manic's grandma. That is always a hard thing. I'm glad you were blessed with a good funeral home that treated Diva so well.

:D

morninglight mama said...

Oh, Steph, I read this with a racing heart and wishing that I could reach through my computer and give you a hug!! I'm so glad your ladies are free of pink-ribbon-need. Things will eventually calm down!!

Melissa said...

The last couple of paragraphs made me tear up...I'm so glad you don't have to do things now knowing you have cancer...I wish that for so many others, too!!

(((hugs))) enjoy your nap.

Michelle said...

Yikes, you've been dealt a nasty hand lately. I'm glad that this small piece of it turned out to be manageable -- once you knew you were in the clear -- but I have a feeling if you try to donate blood anytime soon, you may be declined for too high of blood pressure. And who could blame you. Fingers crossed that things calm down for all of you. *hugs*

And yes, what AJers had to say was ... perfect. You've got some great kids there, Steph.

Shelley said...

Steph, I'm so sorry for everything you and your family are going through lately. Things are going to get better soon, they have to. And yay for healthy boobs! I also wanted to tell you that I had to go back and have an ultrasound one time too, and it was scary as hell and I laid there on the table and cried, because all I could think of was any other time I'd had an ultrasound, it had been an exciting and happy time. It turned out to be nothing, what they called a migrating lymph node, I guess it's common. But it scared the shit out of me. I hate how they leave you a message like that and then you get to just worry your brains out for days. So glad you are ok. (((hugs)))
PS. Xanax and margs are two of my favorite things too.

Travis Erwin said...

Glad you are okay. My wife just had a scare as well but thankfully it turned out to be nothing as well. Good thing I don't think I could have dealt with any more trauma this year.

March to the Sea said...

sweet jeezum Manic. Its time for a little R+R. Don't sweat the EFF bombs..my english teacher in highschool used to say "don't swear just to swear..swear if what you are writing about calls for it" or something like that. We thought it was cool cuz we could say curse words on our papers..hehehe. I am glad you got some good news!

Kate said...

I'm so sorry to hear about your rotten weekend. Everything happens all at once, doesn't it? I am so glad that your boobs are okay! What a relief! Did they explain why they called you in and scared you shitless?

Bina said...

Holy Freaking Crap Manic! How does a person deal with that much stress in a matter of weeks? I think you should have a xanax, some margaritas, and a nap, and then let your husband play with your boobs. I'm sure you would feel much better.

Amanda said...

Well I'm so relieved you are OK, no cancer is always a good thing.

Sorry about the strain of the funeral but they are what they are and you got to say your goodbyes.

If it helps you cam always rant to me, promise not to squeal to your mum!

DawnfromCA said...

Stephanie, so glad you are well. I know what you mean about the freaking doc office phone message...one time I got a call about an irregular pap smear (on a Friday, of course) and had to wait all weekend to talk to someone. Of course your mind races to all the worst possible scenarios.

On the plus side, you wrote an amazing, relatable, blog. Thank you for sharing the ups and downs of your life. I'm sure you made a lot of people going through similar situations feel that they are not alone, and that is no small thing.

Also, prayers and love to you and your family in the loss of Great-Grandma.

Kristin said...

Sorry it was a crappy weekend. I know these past few weeks you have had more than fair share of crap. On the bright side, only a couple more days until our girls night! Can't wait to see you on Thursday!

Kim Stagliano said...

Jesus H Motherfucking Christ on a stick. How the fuck has this god damned world turned around when I'm worried about YOU for a fuck it to hell change?????

If I get breast cancer I'm getting implants that come with a WHEEL BARROW to cart them in front of me. That's how big they'll be.

Steph - that was a heck of a post. I figured I should swear in the comment in the spirit of the moment. I'm OK now. Are you???

KIM

MaNiC MoMMy™ said...

Kim, I adore the FUCKING HELL OUT OF YOU!!!

ANd love the rest of you too! Thanks everyone for your kind words, love, and comments!

welgolpol said...

I now have even better news for you. I'm new to your blog and I don't know where you live in Illinois, but I just read today that there may be a
CHIC-FIL-A coming to Aurora!!

MaNiC MoMMy™ said...

welgolpol!!! YOu are like the third person to share this most excellent news with me! And yes, AURORA Is very close to where I LIVE!!!! Thanks for letting me know! I am sooo ready for a sandwich and some waffle fries!

Dani In Chicago said...

Great blog entry, Stephanie. So glad you're ok, and sorry to hear about your loss. A few years ago I went in for a mammogram and had to go back several times during the same appointment! Turned out everything was fine though.

By the way, have you been to Uncle Julio's Hacienda on North Ave in Chicago? They have great Mexican food and a great drink called the Swirl (frozen margarita and frozen sangria swirled together - awesome!).

Dani

Tara said...

Steph, so happy you and your boobs are ok! I've followed your blog for a while but this is the first time I've commented. I felt compelled b/c I totally feel your pain about having to wait all weekend after getting bad news! I had a miscarriage about a month ago (my first pregnancy, at 3 and 1/2 months) - we had a routine doc's appt. on a Friday morning and there was no heartbeat. I had to wait ALL WEEKEND for the d&c b/c they could not sqeeze me in until Monday. Talk about needing a Xanax - I think I lived on it for about three weeks straight!

Here's hoping things look up for you and that your hubby finds another job soon!

MaNiC MoMMy™ said...

Tara, I tried to see if you had a blog or email, but you don't so I'm posting this here--I am SOO SORRY about your miscarriage. THAT must have been a horrible experience, and I want you to know I will be thinking of you. Be well.