Thursday, April 19, 2007

I've Been Out-Tumored

My best friend has breast cancer - in both breasts. She’s 37 years old and has a little boy who is 20 months old. She has a 13 year old stepson, a new job, and no time for cancer. She’s facing surgery and radiation and the possibility of chemotherapy.

We found out yesterday, two days after the mammogram and biopsy. She doesn’t see the doctor until Monday, but we know that she’ll have surgery within the next two weeks.

And while I know it will hit me eventually, I find that my heart has simply not taken in this information at all.

And my mind, well, my mind is apparently completely unwilling to deal with the situation. Each time I begin to “go there”, I simply conjure up distracting images of our respective tumors vying for the title of Most Tumor-Ific.

For background:

  • I have a liver tumor - Keith Richards.
  • Zingerzapper has two breast tumors - Donna and Nick.
  • These three lumps are (in my mind at least) battling for tumor supremacy.

The Battle*:

Keith Richards: Let us just be clear – I’m the oldest. You guys are simply the new kids on the block, and I am not impressed.

Nick: Not impressed? Not impressed?! Whatever, dude. There are two of us and only one of you.

Keith: Yes, but both of you together aren’t as large as me. I’m the size of 1 ½ golf balls, yo. You aren’t even close to that.

Nick: Well, yes, but you’re forgetting the small fact that we are cancer. You’re all benign and stuff.

Keith: She’s not cancer. She’s like Stage 0.

Donna: I am too cancer. Just because I haven’t broken through that stupid milk duct and invaded the surrounding breast tissue does not make me not cancerous. I’m cancerous, dammit. You better recognize.

Keith: Fine, fine. You’re cancer. But you’re a really small cancer. You’re like the Rhode Island of tumors. Whereas I, I am the Texas of tumors. No wait. I’m the Alaska of tumors. Which one is bigger? I always forget. It doesn’t matter. I am the Biggest State of Tumors.

Nick: But didn’t your doctor guarantee that not only are you not cancer, but you have no hope of becoming cancer? I thought so. Donna and I are small but mighty CANCEROUS tumors. Eat that, big guy.

Keith: I am big and cause ongoing pain and discomfort. And I’m totally pressing on her gall bladder. What are you two doing – a little hardening, a little discomfort? Geesh, you wouldn’t even know you were there.

Donna: I think someone is a bit of a One-Note Nelly with the whole “I’m so big” thing. That’s really all you got, Keith.

Carol: I have to agree, Keith. Your only comeback is, “Ooh, I’m gigantor. I cause the organs around me to quiver in fear.” You haven’t even been biopsied. Pfft!

Nick: Who the heck are you? You weren’t invited to this contest.

Keith: Oh her, she’s my friend Karen’s tumor. She’s most likely not cancerous either.

Carol: Well, there is a 20% that I’m cancerous. Plus, even though I’m most likely not malignant, I reside in the thyroid. Therefore, my biopsy was especially icky and painful.

Donna: I must remind you that both Nick and I have been biopsied, and we’re going to be removed by a lumpectomy. Nick might even get a masectomy.

Carol: So, what you’re saying is that your days are numbered….I’m sorry, am I smiling at that?

Keith: Don’t be so smug Carol. I’ve heard the same about you. You’re also scheduled to make an involuntary exit early next month.

Carol: Whaa…?

Keith: That’s right, peeps. All of you are making your exits this May, and I’ll still be around as the guardian against french-fries and good eating for Zany Mama.

Nick: But in the meantime, we’re still way more Tumor-ific than you are.

(Nick, Donna, and Carol all nod their heads vigorously in agreement. Keith gracefully gives in and goes back to badgering the liver he rode in on.)

So, yeah, it’s been a hard week. It’s also been hard to be in my group of friends recently. We are, apparently, infested with tumors in my social circle. My liver tumor is tame in comparison to what my friends are going through, and when not making up ludicrous imaginary conversations, I am aching for them.

So, please send your prayers, your warmth and healing energy, and, yes, cross your fingers.

*And yes I know this is a bit sick and twisted, but it’s marginally better than the OG Tumor Rap Battle that I had planned to pen. I cope with humor – or attempts at humor, as the case may be.


Lynn said...

Zany Mama, I am so sorry. You and your friends are in my thoughts and I am keeping good wishes for you.

Zooland said...

A most unique response to so much scary news. I guess you and your friends are the tumor toasters. Dear Zingerzapper...You are with me.

Karen said...

okay that cracked me up. you know, if we're not careful, people are going to stop hanging out with us for fear of catching something.

lsig said...

Hugs, prayers, and good thoughts for all of the tumor-ridden. (You're a twisted soul, Zany, which is why I like you so much).

Anonymous said...

For those of you with pitiful senses of humor, Zaney was given full permission for this blog. It is not quite as sick and twisted as I'd hoped, but hey my hopes are for Nick and Donna to get the Hell out without causing too much damage to the beautiful, quite perky girls. I figure no matter what happens reconstruction will at least keep my parts perky until I'm 70. See there is always a bright side!!

Karen said...

hey zingerzapper...
i forgot to add my note to you in my comment on this post: i love you. i'm praying for you. let's kick nick and donna to the freaking curb. carol will join them shortly. anything you need, you got it. just ask.

zulhai said...

By any chance is there a big nuclear power plant in your neighborhood?

Good luck with showing the tumors who's boss.

Sue said...

I am so sorry to hear about your friend. How horrible for her. I will keep her in my thoughts.

And yes, sometimes humor is the only way to go - even if it is "black humor". Sometimes you need to ligten the mood.

Thinking only positive thoughts for you and your friends.

Brenda said...

Okay, goodness....I think GNO may need to be postponed for awhile...I think I'm busy...yes, I am very busy.

I love you both, defects and all and I'm ready to stand with you and fight the fight!

nancy said...

Thoughts and prayers directed to you both...

Zany Mama said...

Thanks much. Really.

Unique people have unique coping. I have unofficially started calling us Team Tumor but tumor toasters is good too.

I think people have already been just a bit leery about hanging out with us - this will most certainly send them over the edge.

I thought you might enjoy the weirdness of this particular post. I was going to do it as a rap battle, and SRH suggested that I have you do the opposing mc, but I just couldn't pull it off.

Might keep that idea for a future date, though, so you might want to brush up on your skillz...

It's much easier to send prayers and wishes to someone when they aren't bragging about their perky girls. Stop that.

Team Tumor unite!

The only environmental similarity between the three of us is that we all worked at the local domestic violence shelter for several years together. Two other people who frequent this blog can also lay claim to that honor. Let's hope it really wasn't that building.

Thanks. I'll absolutely take positive thoughts and prayers.

I thought you might be feeling a little nervous since you also worked at the shelter. Oh well, one for all and all for one.

(Not that I'm wishing you a tumor. I'm not.)

Many thanks.

Anonymous said...

As they say, humor is the best medicine. I hope it all goes well for you and your friends. A close friend of mine went through 6 months of chemo when she was diagnosed with stage 2 Hodgkin's and she said aloe juice was tremendously beneficial in helping her through it. She's all better now too.