Not OK

Most things I’ve handled well through this last month. Self evaluation is always biased one way or the other, but I’ve been mostly calm and stoic with only occasional tears. No tantrums. No hating god. No denial, anger, etc. Some despotism. Mostly my calm practical core.


“You have cancer.” Ok.

“You will need surgery.” Uh huh.

“And chemo.” Slightly upset before my doctor reminds me that my memories of mom’s chemo are from two decades ago, and it’s not anywhere near as bad anymore. Still bad. Still chemo. But not awful. They even re-branded as infusion. Re-branding never works.

“And radiation.” Radiation actually sounds awesome, like the easiest part ever.

“You will lose your hair.” Fine. Hair grows back.

“You will feel sick. A lot.” Great. It’ll be just like that first winter in Spain.


But then they say there is a 50% chance I can’t have kids after chemo. SHUT THE FUCK UP. I come to a screeching halt. This is not OK. They say I can go through IVF, but me and my boyfriend get no embryos, 1 mature egg and 6 immature eggs. The odds are NOT in my favor. The odds with IVF are shitty anyway and this is EXTRA shitty. I am NOT OK WITH THIS. THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT AND FUCK CANCER FOR TAKING THIS AWAY FROM ME. I cry, I throw a tantrum, I don’t give a FLYING FUCK about getting better or healing or my own health and focusing on my MOTHER FUCKING GOD DAMN FIGHT AGAINST CANCER. Just fuck it. So right now, I don’t care. I don’t care if I get better. I don’t care to fight for my health. It’s not really even a fight. It’s enduring. It’s not giving up. It’s going to the doctors and not throwing in the towel. A lot of it can even be passive in the “fight” against cancer. But I don’t give a good god damn about any of it.


Oh I will. I’ll have to. I will have to care and have a “good attitude” and be “strong” and endure all the shitty parts. But right now FUCK IT. I am NOT OK with the very good possibility of not having kids. And now I just get to wait and see. Maybe I will. But maybe I won’t. Maybe is SHIT. MAYBE can go FUCK ITSELF. And I can’t afford the hope or lack of hope right now. I have all the other things to concentrate on, like how chemo affects my memory and work and life. Like the next steps. Like family and insurance and finances. So I just can’t think about it. I can’t think about any of it. Thinking about it makes me feel dark and cold and lost and alone and giving up because why would I even want to fight any of this. Fuck fighting. I give up. Cancer wins.


Since I can’t do that, even when I want to. Even when fuck-it-I’m-not-getting-out-of-bed-everything-sucks, I have to function. I can’t not function. So I just can’t think about it. I can’t articulate it or look at it or have it anywhere near me. I have to stay far away from it so that I don’t shatter into a million pieces. I wanted to put in a box on a shelf. I’ve done that before in my head with things I can’t think about. I even considered making a pretty box and literally putting it on my shelf until late 2017. But I don’t like the thought of shutting it up, putting the possibility of having kids in a box… It feels too much like death to me.


So I have this friend at work. I’ve only known her for 6 months, and we briefly hung out one time before my diagnosis. She is classy as fuck, beautiful, wicked smart, kind. She is the type of person that everyone wants to be friends with, but I hadn’t gotten around to friend dates with her yet (oh I had plans!). My cancer hit her really hard. She may have cried more than me about it thus far. I ruined a meeting with her mentor because she got my cancer email immediately prior. Anyway, she’s been praying for me and bringing me her mom’s homemade deliciousness. She thinks I will have kids. She KNOWS I will have kids. She has a friend who went through the same things and now has TWINS. She has faith and belief and hope and a shiny glorious certainty that I am having kids in the future.


So I am giving this to her. I am letting this go. I need her to carry this with her for the next year or so and send all that happy expectation of my future family out into the universe. I am delegating this to her because it is too heavy for me and I CANNOT hold it right now. I can’t even look at it. So this is on you, Parastoo. Think your happy thoughts and be your optimistic hopeful self. You can give it back to me in a year or so.

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