So I put these stupid boundaries on my blogging, what I'll write about and when and a certain order to things, and I end up not writing anything at all. Or starting a bunch of posts, but not finishing or publishing them. Which is most definitely not the point of blogging! (When did I start writing in sentence fragments? When did that become acceptable? Mrs. Parsons would be so irritated!)
These past couple of weeks were pretty rough. NSA had a CT scan Tuesday, November 25th, and we had to wait for the results until the following Wednesday. He has a steady pain in his lower left back that could be a lot of things, but one of the possibilities that his gastrointernist, Dr. Valkyrie mentioned, almost casually, was pancreatic cancer. Pancreatic cancer is one of the worst, meaning that by the time you show symptoms, it's pretty much already too late. Average lifespan is like five months from diagnosis to death. And it just so happens that one of my favorite comedians of all time, Bill Hicks, died of it. I was freaking out a little. Okay, a lot, given my recent history, but trying not to show it.
The "cancer answer" was, thankfuckinggod!!, no. (But I did have a post planned titled Excuse Me While I Freak Out For A While, if the answer was yes, because I definitely would have needed a break from blogging.) And a part of me, that strange little detached part, whispered that if NSA did have cancer, that it would be almost unbelievable, that it would stretch the bounds of reality, especially in the blogosphere, to have my mother, my husband, my father-in-law, and my mother-in-law all have cancer in the same year. Who would believe it? So now I have something to celebrate. The "cancer answer" was NO! (Although we still don't know what the pain is...) Happy Thanksgiving!