Cancer is so last season!

Last week I received what could be super good news…but I am holding it tightly to my chest. Hard to do with my considerably sizable bosom. But it is too important to not try; besides I would not want to jinx it. So for now, til my next scans I am guarding my secret fiercely. And my heart is silently singing, completely off key of course, the praises of my awesomely awesome doctor. But good news may be coming down the road. Cross your fingers, toes, the fingers and toes of the person standing next to you…the toes and fingers of anyone you come into contact with would be completely appreciated and a true testament of your love for me. I would be eternally grateful for it all…BUT if you get arrested for crossing the fingers and toes of strangers please wait to call me at a reasonable hour. I promise to gladly post your bail.

Ok back to today’s blogfest.

As I have never had any other cancer I am putting the following disclaimer out there: I can ONLY speak about pancreatic cancer, that’s the straw I drew and that’s the cancer that is currently squatting within my traitorous body. My mother and sister both had breast cancer (and are both in remission I can happily say) so I can speak very little about that, but not with any great authority. Although I can bore you to tiny little pieces, with my voice of booming authority, if you want to hear about all the statistics on my particular cancer or how to make a really good banana cake.

First of all, most people do not have cancer for as long as I do. They do not go through chemo for years on end. They are usually given a very precise number of treatments to expect and when they can see an end, or at least a very faint glimmer of an end, to the toxic parade I loving call Chemotherapy. I cannot imagine what this is doing to my body. Actually I refuse to imagine it. I am a one hurdle at a time type of girl. We can worry about this tomorrow. Or never even. I am good with that.

Recently though I am beginning to have a very sneaking suspicion that people are actually…bored… with my cancer. It’s true. I feel somehow that I just may have fallen *gasp* out of fashion.

When I was first diagnosed in 2011 everyone was a MESS. My family called me almost every day. They all live states away, so my family members took a turn visiting me every month. Sometimes twice a month. My friends salivated at the chance to go out with me, have lunch. (Actually they probably were salivating over the idea of lunch and not me really because that would be disturbing.) It was as if they thought I was dying or something. Ok. So maybe I was according to the doctors. BUT I never said I was dying. My plans remain just the opposite. So it is not as if I was indulging in false advertising. I had told all my friends and family that I had planned to beat this. And I am still working on that! But the calls have dwindled, the visits do not come nearly as often and I kinda think that they are just rather done with my cancer for now. Or they are done with me and my usual self centered cancer complaints. I feel like the same song just with a varying beat every so often. Even my super amazing fantastic husband seems a little tired of my cancer. He is still really great and supportive please do not misunderstand….but….

Sometimes I can almost hear a voice say…”Geez why aren’t you better yet?” I suppose it can be exhausting for the people around me. Hell I say it to myself. All. The. Time. I would love to snap my fingers, wave a stinking wand…grab Tinker Bell by the throat and shake over my head like a damned salt shaker. Fairy dust. Fairy dust. Fairy dust. Anything to make it go away and just be better. I wonder if people realize how I long for that normalcy. I would like to be better. Now. Please and thank you. So lacking the fairy dust we go through chemo. Often. Way way too often. And the cycle just goes on and on. Pancreatic cancer is kinda an all the time thing. Let me clarify. Stage IV pancreatic cancer is an all the time thing.

Even I suffer from ennui occasionally with my illness. But I have this little cruel gnome living inside me and for fun and to alleviate the boredom I let it out and play. Like when a neighbor asked me “Oh Monica what happened to your hair?” and I said looking simultaneously appalled and confused while frantically grasping at my bald scalp…”Oh my God..what happened to it?????” Oh yeah there is a little black heart beating in my great big heart. It is also the one that responds to the following question thusly, “So how much longer will you be on chemo?” Inwardly I sigh then utter my usual tart reply with my great big innocent eyes, “The doctor tells me til I die”. Blink…blink.. flutter eyelids (don’t have eyelashes cannot flutter those) flutter eyelids. I get a rather macabre kick out the reactions. Most do not know how to react and frankly I do not mind a second of someone else’s discomfort. I know it sounds cruel. I do not let them flounder for long. Of course within a moment I smile grandly and say, “Oh no, it’s ok, don’t worry. I am fine.” But honestly sometimes the question pisses me off! My husband thinks I am over reacting. He is right, I probably am. But hey, sometimes people are really rude. I don’t ask people how much longer they are going to be on a diet…how much longer they are going to be a dumbass…how much space they plan to take up and for how much longer. I know. I know. People do not mean harm with the questions. But it does get exhausting from time to time. And a girl does what she can to entertain herself.

Quick pet peeve. I have pancreatic cancer. Would people please stop staring at my boobs. Not every young woman with cancer has breast cancer. Although I think one day I am going to tell people I have testicular cancer…just for shits and giggles. They will undoubtedly look at my boobs and then look for my balls. I am going to do that this week for sure! The evil gnome within me just cackled in glee. Ok actually the cackling was entirely me and entirely out loud. I think I frightened my dog.

But yes, my cancer has become almost tedious. Friends Mitzy and Muffy are discreetly covering a yawn while on the inside they are saying, “We know you have cancer Monica, blah, blah, blah, but really that is so yesterday’s news. What else is going on in your life?” What you really hear is, “So how are you?” I do believe the very true and accurate translation for this is, “Please for the love of God and all things pretty and glittery can you talk about something else?”

The truth is friends, folks and followers…there is not much else. My life really does revolve around my illness. And it is so self centered. I was never that kind of person. I blame the cancer. I wish it was different. Honest. I know from my blogs that it seems that cancer is all I talk about. But it is the tone and direction I decided to go when venturing out into the blogging stratosphere. Of course we have the kids, which are stories in themselves and drama and fun. Like the fact that aliens have stolen my little boy and replaced him with some hulking 6’2 14 year old behemoth. Who still vaguely sounds like he swallowed my little boy…voice changes are pretty damned weird, funny but very odd. Or my little 3 year old princess, who when asking her to go to sleep she says, “No Tanks mommy…you go to sweep you yook tired”. This little girl will one day rule the world. I know it. Maybe the universe. And The husband? Well I can discuss him forever. Like the way his check twitches when I hatch some particular witless plan. Awww… And work. My facebook statuses seem to revolve around cancer and my boss, whom I threaten with bodily harm almost daily. But they are rather interchangeable in my mind, he can be like cancer, daily exposure to him causes horrible side effects and I cannot seem to get rid of him. And…and…and …you know what? Screw it. Sure life needs to be directed according to my illness but it does not need to be taken over by it. Because I still have a life. A full one. A great one.

So I have exceeded my original expiration date provided by the first set of doctors I saw. That is freaking awesome! And maybe I psyched out a few people who were expecting my early demise. That’s right…Psych…Oh snap! (Oh yeah I am still a 90’s teen on the inside.) Oohhh snap! Oops where was I? Yes cancer does get boring. It really does. But I need to remember that there is so much else to talk about and to think about.

But I wonder if I can bore my tumors to death????? I think I need to try that one out.

Catch you all on the flip friends, folks and followers. And if you did yawn while reading this blog I hope you covered your mouth…Native Americans believed that a part of your soul would escape if you left your mouth uncovered…oh and they probably did not want to see spit and tonsils any more than the next person.