Blessed Beltane – Biopsy

1st May – Beltane – I had my second biopsy on that golf ball in my thyroid. For those who came in late, in March this year I discovered I had a lump in my thyroid that was cancerous.  I blogged about thecone of surrealness’ of that time and got on with life … until today.

Today was biopsy #2, wherein we hope to find some more definitive ‘anomalous cells’ that will give my throat-cutting guy a better idea of where we go next. It’s a fair bet that my golf ball has to relocate, and sooner rather than later. The rest is up for discussion. I’ll let you know how it all goes.

But here’s an interesting thing. Today I got to see the ultrasound image the biopsy-taking guy used to guide a very long needle into my throat. I’ve seen gazillions of x-rays of my knee in it’s various incarnations, from completely busted up to staples, screws and other hardware, but seeing inside myself in real time (in glorious black-and-white video) was … weird. I gotta be honest, it felt a little squicky, (like a slow-motion punch in the throat) but also absolutely fascinating. I took notes, mentally that is. It’s hard to write in my notebook, flat on my back with a needle in my neck. (It wasn’t really that long, but it felt like it, so therefore it was!)

There’s a story somewhere in this … maybe something about google glass’  that sees in all sorts of different ways, infra-red, untra-violet, see-through, (like non-dangerous ultrasounds or x-rays)  … and what would become of the people who couldn’t afford it … and what would happen to art if people only saw through the google glass? Who would clean the streets if no-one saw the mess? (sounds a bit like that Bruce Willis movie Surrogates’) I’ll work with it.

So, that was my Beltane. A little different, eh?

So, Have a Merry and Blessed Beltane, one and all … let’s kick the tires and light the fires! … and finish out the night with a bracing cuppa tea!

*

“When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness in small things” Muriel Babery,  from her novel, The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Advertisement

Bleggh and Swan Poop

Feeling bleggh about the whole cancer thing … but overall … we’ve had five glorious days of Spring sunshine here in the Lower Mainland. This is notable because this area, climatically speaking, is a rainforest!

Lawnmowers are buzzing in the distance like a swarm of Steampunked bees. Daffs are blooming in the garden like there’s no tomorrow. A few geese and ducks have landed on Widderlake as they follow the sun back to their usual haunts far to the North. No trumpeter swans yet, but I have my binoculars at the ready.

Our neighbours must think we’re a little bonkers. Last Autumn Mrs Widds and I regularly stood on our front lawn (too many trees in the back yard to see much of anything) and got kinks in our necks watching huge flocks of ducks, geese, and swans drift across the southern sky.

We haven’t been pooped on yet this year, but I have high hopes! It’s good luck.

*

“I never met a chocolate I couldn’t eat” Danielle Steel, novelist

A Polite Euphemism for Cancer

Before we move on from the topic of cancer …because no news is no news until I have the results of a second biopsy that’ll determine if I have my whole thyroid removed or just half of it.

… some thoughts.

After the news last Wednesday, if anyone asked me how I felt, the only honest answer I had was ‘surreal’.

My personal world had radically changed, but the greater world had not – surreal.

I discovered there was a tiny part of me, probably left over from those ‘teenagers are immortal’ days when our incredibly rash actions didn’t actually kill us, that still believed that I might get out of this mortal coil alive – surreal (and how disappointing to realise that damn cliché is true!)

I’ve had 10 major surgeries in my adult life (to put my knee back together again) and in a few months from now I’ll willingly choose to go ‘under the knife’ again, and yes it’s a saving of my life choice, but seriously, who the bloody hell chooses to have their bodies cut open and bits of their viscera removed? – surreal

I’m not ill, I don’t feel sick, but yet, here I am with a life threatening disease – surreal.

Cone of Surrealness

Cone of Surrealness

Thankfully the Cone of Surrealness only lasted until Friday night when it cracked wide open and I cried, and sobbed, and howled, and raged.

Mrs Widdershins was there to hold me and say all the right things, and supply tissues.

Widdercat rightfully concluded that purrs were not needed at that time and waited until the storm had passed before joining us for cuddles.

So, here I am, on the other side of ‘surreal’ and getting on with life.

*

“Getting ahead in a difficult profession requires avid faith in yourself. That is why some people with mediocre talent, but with great inner drive, go so much further than people with vastly superior talent” Sophia Loren, actor.

 

Abnormal Cells – A Polite Euphemism

That’s what the results of my thyroid biopsy says, ‘abnormal cells’.

Next, comes another biopsy to determine if the surgery I have to have, will remove half my thyroid or the whole thing.

Some days are lumpy rocks, and some are shiny diamonds, most fall somewhere in between.

This one’s a rock.