Today, Barack Obama will be on Blogtalkradio. This should be one of the happiest days in my career. I am producing the show, and it’s fitting. I followed his career path, I read his books, I enjoy him both as a person and as the man who is working hard to bring some sense to this country. For the most part, I have agreed with most of his decisions (except the ridiculousness of overtaxing private oil, rendering the industry unprofitable, which will in turn lose another million jobs across the country, including my father’s if this actually passes.)
Let’s back up a bit, and give you the history of the weeks I haven’t written. Aunt Robin, lives in Texas, and the way for her to help through this ordeal was that she called the Cancer Treatment Centers of America. They in turn called me, asked me a million questions and I explained that I think there’s something more going on in my ovaries than the doctor is willing to look at. I explained that when they say the word Cancer to you, you become hyper aware of every single little cell in your body, and you tend to know something’s up. I have all the symptoms, as detailed in a prior post. I explained all of this to the guy that called, and explained that I didn’t think that the doctor had taken it seriously. He said to call and demand the CA-125 or CA-19-9 Blood test. These tests look at the cancer protein pathogen that is pumped out from cancer cells in your ovaries. Doctors have found this to be an unreliable means of testing for Ovarian Cancer because it can also be elevated by Endometriosis.
I asked the Doctor about ovarian cancer in my visits. Her response, and her nurse’s responses every time I asked were that Ovarian Cancer is very rare. My questions about the symptoms were usually rebutted with “Well, that can be attributed to…” with a reference to something else. Pressing further, my response was usually, “Well, yes, but isn’t that the problem with ovarian? That the symptoms can be attributed to something else? Isn’t that why it kills so many women, because it’s not detected early enough?”
So, I called and demanded the CA-125 that the gentleman from CTCoA suggested, and they did it last Friday. Easy as pie, didn’t hurt a bit, just a simple blood test.
Yesterday, in preparing for the President of the United States of America to be the first President in the history of mankind to broadcast via internet radio during his term, on our network, at 4:45 we had scheduled a test show with some of the most well respected religious leaders in our country, to simulate the show for today. At 4:45, I was to call in as host and our team would work our tails off for the next two hours to ensure that everything would go as smoothly as possible, that the sound checks were performed, and that our preparations to make technological history were perfected.
At 4:41, my house phone rings. It’s the doc’s office. The nurse says “We’ve received your test results back from the CA-125 lab. The results are extremely elevated. This does not mean you have Ovarian Cancer. This can also be caused from endometriosis. You’re seeing your doctor on the 25th, and she’ll have more information for you then.”
I now have exactly 3 minutes to ask every question I can, and get on the show with 27 of the most important religious leaders in the country.
“So, I’ve already been tested for endometriosis.” I said. She replied simply with, “Oh.”
“Ok. Well, are we going to get these suckers out of me on September 3rd?” She said, “I’m not sure. The doctor will need to talk to you more about this, and what it means for you. I am not a doctor, but I don’t think they can just take it out.”
I hung up, and for the next two hours, I bulldozed through the test show with the religious leaders, and tried to get my head screwed back on.
After the test show was finished, I walked outside, grasping the horror of this truth. I knew all along it was an ovary problem. This all started, and I became aware of it through the ovarian issue. A hemorrhaging cyst in my left ovary, that’s been there since at least April.
I left and went first to Biggby coffee, where I ordered a caramel-mocha frappucino with chocolate chips. Super size. Then, I went to Schuler Books, and I bought The Time-Traveler’s Wife, Jenny McCarthy’s book, Life Laughs, and I re-bought The Lovely Bones (for the 3rd time…because people keep borrowing it and not returning it – you know who you are, bitches 
) so that my husband can read it before the December release of the movie.
Next I sat in my car, drinking my frappucino, staring out across a crowded mall parking lot, thinking how just when I thought my life couldn’t really get anymore screwed up, it did. A three minute phone conversation once again forever altered my path.
I came home, and sat with my husband, who up until yesterday refused to look at this whole situation with my cervical cancer as anything but a minor bump in the road. He said, “You know, it just occurred to me today that I can’t live without you. I need you. The kids need you. We haven’t done everything that I thought we would do in our lifetime together.”
I don’t have a diagnosis of ovarian cancer. But, I do know that diagnosis is coming. All I know at this point is that on September 3rd, 2009, I am going to have a hip-to-hip surgery, to remove my cervix, uterus, fallopian tubes, lymph nodes and now possibly both ovaries. If she can take the ovaries at that time, I will be surprised. My bet is that she’s now going to biopsy those ovaries, and when they come back, we’ll get to do all of this all over again. 2 surgeries. Possible Chemo and Radiation. Months of pain, months of torture, months of trying to get better enough to go through some more, and then months of recovery after that.
I’m still reeling from the latest round of information. Still recoiling from the bitter truth. I don’t really know what to think, or say, or do.
Today, at 5pm, I will be on a call with the President of the United States of America with the company that I helped build through an extremely satisfying career, love, hard work and with a team that could take on a nuclear fallout and come out on top. We have all worked so hard to get to this point. The pride I have for our company today is epic. Movies could be made for such things. This should be one of the happiest days of my adult, professional life. And yet, all I can think of is – what if this is it?
What if THIS is my biggest career accomplishment? What if I’m not here to see the amazing things that this company is capable of or to do? What if I never get the chance to take my kids to Disney World, and what if I can’t see them graduate, go on to college, start their own careers and have their own babies? What if this is it?
I’m a fighter, and I won’t take this laying down. But, the overwhelming thought, that drowns out all the others, is…I don’t have any control whatsoever over this. I can’t bully my way out of 2 brands of cancer. I can’t manipulate it or negotiate it to leave me alone. My faith and health and life is in a doctor’s hands. One that I have to trust, and that my insurance company will pay for, and one who keeps losing trust points at every turn.
I am humbled, horrified, scared, pissed, and ultimately hopeful. That’s the honest to God’s truth.
