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Thursday, September 27, 2012


When I was around 12, I developed an obsession with infectious diseases. I read a million books about Ebola, Legionnaires' disease, Hanta, and all the rest. So when the movie Outbreak came out, I. was. ob.sessed. I think I must have come across it at the video store, and the rest is history. I watched it approximately eight million times. The trailer, which I never saw until the magic of Youtube, is above.

When I found out about all the tumors in my boob, I thought of this masterpiece of American cinema. Specifically, when Donald Sutherland is predicting the spread of the virus, and he flatly marks the progression of time and spread of the disease - "24 hours, 36 hours, 48 hours..." It's around 1:20 in the above trailer. I pictured all my small tumors growing and connecting, turning my breast into a mass of red. Red = bad, on the map DSuth is showing.

If you're at all familiar with the plot of this movie (in which Patrick Dempsey makes an extremely embarrassing appearance) you might remember that Donald Sutherland wants to blow up this little town to contain the virus. (And something about biological weapons...)

To make his case, Sutherland urges the other decision makers (who are they? No idea) to "be compassionate, but be compassionate globally." Yes, I just recited that from memory. And yes, I do see the irony in the idea of being compassionate "globally" now that I am globe-less.

I went with Donald Sutherland on this one. I blew up the town. I chopped off the boobs.

It's not for everyone.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Number one

Yesterday was my first chemo session. It was mostly uneventful, and my main side effect now is that I'm totally jacked from the steroids. I've been lifting weights. (For real. I know, it's totally fucked up! Who am I?)

Number of needle pokes: 2
Number of drugs administered: 6
Number of nipple jokes made by my oncologist: 2

I got a wacky rash that started on my face and is rolling on down my body. My tonight my feet will be bright red, I guess. Other than that, I'm good for now.


Here we go again...

Again? Yes, again. This isn't my first rodeo. Not my first time time around the infusion room.

Most of you know that Matt is a cancer survivor. He was 27 and I was 24 when he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma, and went through the whole thing - surgery, chemo and radiation.

And I thought we were done, at least until I was old.

But, no. That's why I'm here now. I've got breast cancer. Was diagnosed in July, boobs chopped off in August, and chemo in September. Radiation and more surgery TBA.

I won't really go into the mind boggling details of my diagnoses. There's too much to explain, and it's too minute and boring for anyone who's not living it. Basically I had a bunch of teeny tumors hanging out in my breast. Just living their lives, dividing and reproducing, perfecting their plan for world domination. Except I got to them first. Idiots.