My Vulcan
We have all heard over and over again, the incantations of "carpe diem" and we have all nodded absently in agreement. Life is precious of course. Duh, we all know that. Health is the greatest blessing but of course. Yet, none of it actually sinks in until something comes along to throw you off balance.
The visit to the doctor which lead to more scheduled visits, tests, surgeries, invasive, humiliating and painful procedures, and suddenly cancer is not something that happened to your maternal grandparents, it is something that could happen to you. You remember that time when you were so miserable that death seemed an easier alternative but aha, here you are, not so eager to die now. You find yourself waiting for the results, your imagination filling in the blanks that the doctors haven't filled in yet. Ovarian cancer, uterine cancer; you repeatedly goggle all the symptoms and you have them all. You tell your hubby and he asks if the ovarian cyst, fibroid and uterine polyps can cause similar symptoms and you sheepishly respond, yes. Damn him, for always asking reasonable but impertinent questions. You tell him that you are worried and he responds with; why? I may have cancer, you respond. You don't know that, he reminds you. Double damn him. Why did I marry a vulcan?
And then, the surgeon tells you that the biopsy results were clear and you find yourself releasing a breath, you hadn't realized you had been holding for the past year and a half. You call the vulcan to tell him but he is in a meeting. You call your parents and your father knows the result by the sound of your voice. You call your sister and you can hear the happiness and relief in hers. You email your brother and your best friend and get happy responses. You feel doubly blessed to be loved by so many. Six monthly check-ups seem a breeze. You can do that, easy as pie. You call the vulcan again and he can't resist sliding in the "I told you so!" Smug emotion; perhaps he is not so vulcan after all?
The visit to the doctor which lead to more scheduled visits, tests, surgeries, invasive, humiliating and painful procedures, and suddenly cancer is not something that happened to your maternal grandparents, it is something that could happen to you. You remember that time when you were so miserable that death seemed an easier alternative but aha, here you are, not so eager to die now. You find yourself waiting for the results, your imagination filling in the blanks that the doctors haven't filled in yet. Ovarian cancer, uterine cancer; you repeatedly goggle all the symptoms and you have them all. You tell your hubby and he asks if the ovarian cyst, fibroid and uterine polyps can cause similar symptoms and you sheepishly respond, yes. Damn him, for always asking reasonable but impertinent questions. You tell him that you are worried and he responds with; why? I may have cancer, you respond. You don't know that, he reminds you. Double damn him. Why did I marry a vulcan?
And then, the surgeon tells you that the biopsy results were clear and you find yourself releasing a breath, you hadn't realized you had been holding for the past year and a half. You call the vulcan to tell him but he is in a meeting. You call your parents and your father knows the result by the sound of your voice. You call your sister and you can hear the happiness and relief in hers. You email your brother and your best friend and get happy responses. You feel doubly blessed to be loved by so many. Six monthly check-ups seem a breeze. You can do that, easy as pie. You call the vulcan again and he can't resist sliding in the "I told you so!" Smug emotion; perhaps he is not so vulcan after all?