My rather inconsiderate neighbor just told Mike that I have a 50/50 chance of making it. Seriously, really, come on. How can you look at the man who's wife was diagnosed with breast cancer and say something like that.
To be truthful, I've looked at the statistics. I KNOW what they say. I lived in fear of those numbers for about forty eight hours and then said fuck it. (I can say that word now) I can not live through this being a statistic. After Mike told me, I said I've always been a good student, so let's hope for the best.
We do not have a stage, or a grade, or even know if this has spread. My neighbor is not what one would call an educated person, but still.
I'm not worried about prognosis. I've had to very quickly face my mortality. I could just as easily get in a car accident tomorrow. It happens. I'm worried about getting through this surgery, recovering, getting through treatment, recovering, and taking care of my family.
So, if I make the evening news, you all know I popped her one.
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1 comment:
That is horrible. I am so sorry! My dad has pancreatic cancer. If we had worried about statistics, we would have been living these past almost 3 years in fear of him passing on "any day now". As it is, he is stable, in fact, the secondary tumors are shrinking. He hasn't become a statistic, and neither will you! Hugs.
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