Friends, thank you for consistantly giving me an escape from a world dominated by existential terrors at every turn. Thank you for keeping me in cute animal photos through chemo and scans and dozens of blood draws. You made it easy to be hopeful when it was possible to be hopeful, and have helped me be peaceful, level and calm now that there's nothing to do but wait. Each and every one of you is fantastic, and while I may have been able to get this far without you, why would I ever want that?
Gone is the pain (literal and figurative) I felt when I wrote this, gone is the terror of the unknown. The horror remains, at least a little bit, but mostly what I feel on this anniversary is gratitude. Thanks for being there, and I sincerely hope you'll remain. It's going to be sad, but there'll be cats at least.
Friends, this is not going to be a happy post. I understand if you take a pass, just know that you're all important to me, you brighten and give colour to my life, and that I love you all.
I've been diagnosed with cancer of the appendix. Its already spread to at least two other places. This is the source of the gut/abdominal/belly button pain I've been complaining about for a while. We've only suspected for just over two weeks. and only had it confirmed this week, so I don't know what the outlook is like, but I'm choosing to be hopeful.
Work friends, please keep this to yourselves. Work is the only place I can pretend things are normal right now and that is important to my mental health.
All friends, please don't tell me you're praying for me. That's often used as a passive aggressive threat towards atheists, and while I know you don't mean it that way, I'm already emotionally spent.
Again, you all mean the world to me, and the world is a better place having all you in it ❤
This isn't even an anniversary I remembered, but on this day in 2022 my partner and I sat with the surgeon I'd been seeing for my abdominal pain and had all our worst fears confirmed by the results of test after test. And you know what? It's fine. I forgot. My partner and I went to the Toronto Zoo, not to mark time but because it's a fun way to spend a summer day.
Apparently the beaver at the zoo has passed away, and that hit me much harder emotionally than August 17 ever could. The beaver wasn't the fattest or roundest of the fatrounds, but they slept right against the glass window that opened into their lodge, so you could always get a good view. The beaver was probably my favourite exhibit.
I have no appointments in the next month. I've grown used to seeing someone every week or two. It's honestly become part of my identity. I'm not upset about it, obviously, but it's still weird. I've been busy, and my strength has been returning, which is also nice.
Today I learned that I have no idea what an ounce is, nor do I have an idea why a medical professional would be using it
From the comments
James Petrosky: I was talking to a dietician, because my diahrea is only going to get worse over time and I wanted some advice. It's fine until we come to meat. I think it was 18 ounces of meat (maybe just red?) per week maximum. But because I got so confused about this unit, I can't remember if it was red, the time interval, or even if it was 18. I'm pretty sure it's per week because that's a lot for a day. And I think the dietician confused ounces to cups with ounces to pounds because I thought it was 8, so that's two contradictory things that are now locked in my brain, ready to cause catastrophic problems in the future
Anyways we're going with generic advice for now, which means more soluble fiber, being careful about insoluble fiber, and patting down foods for extra grease. Nothing I didn't know, but sometimes I need an expert to motivate me.
1 - I miss the good avatar backgrounds 1
2 - Look at me, being all cute and coy, pretending the problem was the cannibis and not the high grade existential crisis that comes from knowing you're a) extremely, utterly, nonsensically doomed and b) won't be given a timeline for that doom for almost three weeks, so even planning for Thanksgiving in two months seems futile.
Anyways a combination of the cannibis and winning a staring contest with that deep, dark void was the solution. The CBD works much better now.
Holy crap CBD is a demon chemical that damns me to an unrestful sleep full of vivid and surreal dreams. I'll take seven.
From the comments
James Petrosky: I have a lot more Facevook memories than I share. I've been reading every comment as they come up. Your kind words of support were invaluable then, I genuinely don't think I could have made it from diagnosis to treatment without you all, and remain a comfort to me now. A good community and sense of belonging won't alter the course of my illness, but it brings light and colour to the days as they pass in joy and contentmemt. For that I thank you.
I am crying right now, but it's from happiness and comfort. I don't know if anyone wants to contemplate their own mortality, but when you do, I hope you feel this supported.
The original post on Facebook had the avatar holding balloons with eyes on them, it had a psychadelic look ↩
James Petrosky: No big stuffed animal tea party this time. I bought pizza (sprung for the deep dish option) and am breaking out the hash I keep for special occasions. It'll be shark movies until I pass out, which won't be long because deep dish has so much cheese.
The biopsy was the single most painful thing I've ever experienced. I was at near maximum cancer pain, and had to hold an intensely painful position for around ten minutes while they went in through my back to get a sample from my appendix.
I had known for less than two weeks, as had my partner. My family had known for five days. I was very alone, very confused, and hopeless. But now lots of people I'll never have the joy to meet know, I'm very comfortable talking about everything, and I've never felt more supported.
The Cancerversary is a celebration of life. Biopsy day is a celebration of community (even if I didn't invite anyone but the cat to the party)
Last Thursday, the 3rd, I met with my oncologist to plan when I'd restart treatment. My blood counts have never been particularly useful (even though I have advanced disease, they've never been above the cutoff point where we'd start to worry about them), but they're still lower than when I started treatment a year ago. The CT scan showed no new tumors in the scan area (I think head and legs are outside, and we know the pelvic area isn't imagable), including in lungs, liver, and bones. The existing appendix tumor remains, but is still around the size it was. It's difficult to image the diffuse tumor on the fatty layer that protects the abdominal organs, so there are still unknowns, but we've decided to delay our decision for a few months. This means they in late September and early October, I'll be doing the same round of tests again to see if I need treatment then. This is fantastic news for my incision, which will get the time to heal properly for sure now.
Over the weekend my partner and I traveled to Elliot Lake to attend a family reunion/baby shower in Espanola. Nearly everyone was there, including the enormous and adorable baby, and it was a fantastic time. I didn't realize how much more recovery I had to do, though, I've never been so tired from sitting in the shade all day.
This need for further recovery was repeated Sunday, when my partner and one or my brothers had a tourist day in and around Elliot Lake, and Monday at Science North. Eight months of treatment that saps your strength, followed by a surgery that steals your endurance, and two months of lying around trying not to harm an incision take nearly everything out of you. At least I have two more months to recover.
Traveling North on Highway 400/69, north of Parry Sound, where the good outcrops are.
Bear friend at the North West Trading Company in Espanola, Ontario
Bear friend likes the same things that poodles like
Additional bear friend, at the Trading Post on Serpent River First Nation
Deer also like what poodles like, tourist centre at Elliot Lake turnoff
Baby deer
My first giant roadside statue. By far the largest, in terms of magnification, I'll ever see. Elliot Lake's Atom Statue, on Highway 108 in Elliot Lake
A miner, next to the atom statue
The view from the lookout point in Elliot Lake
The wiring on this old tower is suspect, but probably fine
My brother and I, not entirely sure what we're doing in the art though
Inside the Science North dinosaur exhibition, Sudbury, Ontario
I forgot what sort of skull this is 😮
Triceratops so big
I loved the lighting almost as much as the dinosaurs
Carnotaurus's face so flat
T-Rex is perfection
Science North is built into the bedrock of the Southern Province of the Canadian shield (2.5 billion years old) and shows evidence of the impact that created the Sudbury basin. These shatter cones are visible as far away as Espanola, Ontario
Porcupine in the tree ❤️
Another view of the bedrock
Beluga whale Skeleton. Beluga whales are surprisingly small
I really liked this porcupine, and the beaver was resting in its lodge for most of my visit
I don't have a lot of heroes, but Chris Hadfield is about as close as it gets
Fin whales, however, are huge (this Skeleton covers three stories of the building)
Moose cosplay would be exhausting
I just really like rocks, okay?
My brother's new cat, Ollie
From the comments
James Petrosky: Anyways, this trip crossed The Atom, three trading posts and Science North off my todo list (which is a physical list on real paper in an actual notebook now (it has a dog in a doughnut on the cover). Meeting the baby was the purpose of the trip, but some light multitasking is good
I did not hold the baby because I was exhausted by the time I arrived and he likes to kick, which would have been bad for my incision. I hope I'll be able to rectify this soon
James Petrosky: I forgot to include the best dinosaur 😮
