Simply Wrapped

Simply Wrapped

COLONOSCOPIES for everyone!

When it comes right down to it a colonoscopy saved my mom’s life.

She’s in her 60’s and you’re routinely supposed to have them when you are 50 and beyond. She postponed it because who wants a camera up their butt? I mean, maybe like 2% of the population I can see being into that, but for the masses in their words, it’s just… “Ew.”

The news came rolling in through my iPhone on Friday afternoon. Stage 3A. 6-12 chemo sessions. PET scan. Chemo port in her chest.

All I keep saying in my head is “BOO Cancer.” Just BOO.

Positives are coming out of this, of course, with any situation there are always things you can grasp onto for reason. They keep you sane. They keep you hopeful.

I think this is what they call faith.

I would much rather have a cancer-free mom. As an only child of a single mom the world could be SO much lonelier. Thankfully I am surrounded by loving people, and all the rest can go fuck* themselves.

So far I’ve learned the most valuable lessons from this experience. While I refuse to Google any of the things my mom tells me, I’m sure there are others out there who will venture to the interwebz for colonoscopy information. I am not a doctor, obviously. But this is my 2-sense.

1/ If you have family or friends in the hospital make sure to feed the feeder. Offer to bring food and even if they deny it, do it. If you can’t be there, text them to ask how things are going. It’s the thought that matters.

2/ If you are age 50– get a colonoscopy, damnit.

3/ If you have a family member diagnosed with colon cancer, get a colonoscopy at age 40, damnit.

4/ Encourage anyone in your life age 50 and over to get a colonoscopy, damnit.

5/ If ANYTHING on your body seems different/strange/not right go to the doctor immediately. Take your health seriously and you will have a fighting chance.

*For those who have criticized my “un-lady like” language on this here blog, you can go fuck yourself, too. Cussing is good for the soul, so get over yourself.

Her Name is Karma

Standing up for what you believe is incredibly important, in my opinion. You should never silence yourself if you are in the presence of an injustice. Then there are times when you can’t really speak up…the circumstances make things complicated and you just have to keep your big mouth shut. Things are not always so black and white, as I have found out the hard way.

Just a quick reminder from yours truly that Karma will always take care of it. When those crazy people are crazy and the world seems off, do not fret. Her name is Karma, and she will always have your back.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of being selfish; be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; succeed anyway. If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway. What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; build anyway.

-Mother Theresa

Yours feeling grateful for Karma,

25swf

BOO CANCER.

In my last post I left you guys hanging with cancer thoughts and flea infestations. And by you guys, I mean the three people who stumble upon this blog because they Google “Kate Winslet naked,” and this comes up. Welcome, friends!

I apologize for my leave of absence, but here I am now giving you the fun news.

So my mom was officially diagnosed with COLON CANCER. Continue reading

When it rains, it pours.

I LOVE rain. It’s relaxing, comforting and inspirational to me.

Rain on Sunday is even better. Thunder, lightening and everything else on a day when you have nothing else to do is about the best feeling you can get.

However, my love for real rain differs from metaphorical rain.

You know, the life kind of rain. As in bad news, bad luck, overall just bad. The past week(ish) has been a time of life rain.

I’m actually pretty adept to handling crisis situations. I react calmly, logically, rationally. Did someone just saw their arm off? I can help!

It’s the small stuff that seems to get me all bent out of shape. Small…super small…as in fleas. (Literally) overnight my apartment became an infestation of the nasty little critters. With indoor cats, I’m not sure how or when they started making their home my home, but it was bad. Over the past couple of weeks I took the normal precautions when I noticed my cats scratching a little more than normal. Flea baths and sheets washed, house cleaned, I felt pretty good about the situation clearing up.

Little did I know, the peak of my infestation was about to reign its ugly head.

On Thursday I got a phone call. It was my mom and she was calling me after her colonscopy appointment. She was whimpering as she told me they found something during her procedure and it doesn’t look good. She used the word “cancer” but said they won’t really know until the biopsy comes back. My crisis situation self kicked in, and I comforted her, made her laugh and told her we shouldn’t say words like cancer until the doctor does.

That evening after the “cancer” phone call, my apartment became inhabitable. I was mortified. I grabbed my cats, a few things, and headed over to Mr. M’s. We checked the cats, they were fine since I was keeping them under control. Mr. M and I headed to Wal-Mart to gather flea killing supplies.

The fleas are on their way out, but not dead yet. 9 flea bombs, and 3 deep cleanings later, I am almost rid of the little bastards.

Now I must wait and see. Wait for my mom’s results. Wait for the fleas to all die. Wait for rain to stop pouring.

Yours feeling impatient,

25swf