The lump(s) in my throat
So I have 2 lumps on my thyroid that have grown quite a bit since I found the one in Mexico end of January. I have been ignoring them for quite some time but with a looming biopsy (June 3) and results (June 12) and the fact that I can feel them all the time now and they are making my jaw hurt sometimes is making it harder and harder to pretend they don't exist.
The lumps symbolize something I can't quite put my finger on. Bad luck? Mortality? The other shoe I've been waiting to drop? The doom that always seems to threaten? They fucking terrify me. They fucking terrify Adam. I think they terrify other people too but mostly we are getting "it's going to be fine" out of everyone and we know for damn sure there is no guarantee of that.
I am 31.5 weeks pregnant with what is for all intents and purposes a very healthy happy baby. I have 8.5 weeks to go until we meet said baby. I don't want to be a cancer mom. I don't want to be a cancer anything. I want to be healthy mom, a happy mom, a healthy person/wife/friend/sister/daughter. I don't want another piece of baggage to carry around. I don't want to have a sickness blog. I don't want to be sick. I don't want to have to think about medication and radiation and surgery. I want to think about breastfeeding and snuggling and summertime. I want to plan our next trip and think about when the house is paid off and how retirement will be. The universe has a way of letting you know sometimes it's couldn't give two shits about what you want. I've learned this the hard way but have overall been pretty damned lucky. I hope my luck hasn't run out. I want to watch my kids grow and be mad at them for not calling me when they move away. I want to see them shine. I want to go back to before the lump(s) in my throat but sadly there is no way out but through this and so we march on, fucking terrified.
The lumps symbolize something I can't quite put my finger on. Bad luck? Mortality? The other shoe I've been waiting to drop? The doom that always seems to threaten? They fucking terrify me. They fucking terrify Adam. I think they terrify other people too but mostly we are getting "it's going to be fine" out of everyone and we know for damn sure there is no guarantee of that.
I am 31.5 weeks pregnant with what is for all intents and purposes a very healthy happy baby. I have 8.5 weeks to go until we meet said baby. I don't want to be a cancer mom. I don't want to be a cancer anything. I want to be healthy mom, a happy mom, a healthy person/wife/friend/sister/daughter. I don't want another piece of baggage to carry around. I don't want to have a sickness blog. I don't want to be sick. I don't want to have to think about medication and radiation and surgery. I want to think about breastfeeding and snuggling and summertime. I want to plan our next trip and think about when the house is paid off and how retirement will be. The universe has a way of letting you know sometimes it's couldn't give two shits about what you want. I've learned this the hard way but have overall been pretty damned lucky. I hope my luck hasn't run out. I want to watch my kids grow and be mad at them for not calling me when they move away. I want to see them shine. I want to go back to before the lump(s) in my throat but sadly there is no way out but through this and so we march on, fucking terrified.
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