oopherectomy & cancerversary - what a week

[v-ness]

last week on august 25 i had laparoscopic surgery to remove my last remaining ovary. had i known a year and a half ago when i had a partial hysterectomy that i would get cancer & chemo and be thrust into early menopause, i would have had it all yanked. but oh well.

all this time i was going to have my ovary taken out anyway since i am ER+ and i wanted to give BC one less organ to spread to, but then my mom incredibly died of primary peritoneal ovarian cancer on june 22. the whole time she'd been taking care of me during my breast cancer, ovarian cancer was stealthily killing her and no one could figure it out until her autopsy. so my oncologist and gynecologist thought i should have my ovary out ASAP. as we speak, the pathologist is slicing it up like capicola to look for any minute sign of malignancy. i feel confident it will be clean, but mom's cancer was just too weird a coincidence.

as surgery approached i realized it was the very same day i had my first breast cancer biopsy last year! august 25. that fateful day. i hope this august 25 surgery has a much happier result. so friday, august 27 was my cancer-versary. it's the day you got diagnosed, right? nobody knew what to say to me when i'd announce it. i kinda thought it was a no-brainer. how about 'wow! i'm so glad you are doing so well, congratulations'? my sisters and i went out to dinner. as you can see, surgery didn't keep me down. (i'd rather have that again any day than have a port put in! for some reason that was my worst pain surgery.)

as the day approached i did not feel anything about the anniversary, but i did notice that evening over dinner i grew melancholy for what seemed like no particular reason. then on sunday i was in a hellish mood, both mad and sad. sure, i was acutely feeling the absence of my husband bob and my mom, both of whom would have helped me in the healing from surgery. plus i just plain missed them. neither of them ever got a cancerversary. they were dead that fast. but i wonder if part of the mad and sad was because i ever had to have breast cancer in the first place.

bob used to like to quote songs. he was a vietnam vet and like to say "thank you, lord, for thinking 'bout me. i'm alive and doing fine." i think it's from the song sign, sign, everywhere a sign. remember that song? so in bob's immortal words, here's what i say belatedly for my cancerversary - thank you, lord, for thinking 'bout me. i'm alive and doing fine!

thank you bob and mom, too. i think they're watching over me.

valerie