Mike Wazowski Has a Friend, and It's not Sully

It's a lovely Saturday morning. I am sitting here in my new house enjoying the little Florida room in the back, one of the features that really sold me on moving in. It's quiet. All I can hear right now are the sounds of nature and my kitty, Lacy purring beside me. I have needed this all week, and I am glad just to sit here and enjoy the "downtime." It's been a crazy week, folks. First of all, we are moving into a new building at work. Statistics state that moving, of any kind, ranks third in stressful life events, ranking only behind death and divorce.  This is the second time I'm moving in the span of just 2 months. Add to that, uncertainty about the move at work. We are all packed only to find out the move date has changed.  So there's that. Then I get my cleaning deposit back from my previous move, something I have been looking forward to so I can shop for a sofa, to find it is 1/10 of what I deposited, I was livid, but that's another blog post. Then last Thursday was my day to see the neurologist to find out the results of my follow up MRI to see if my friend Mike Wazowski had grown back. Well, here's the scoop. Mike doesn't seem to have grown, but a friend has moved in with him. In looking at the most recent films, the conclusion is that I have now developed a cyst in the area Mike used to reside called the Cella. The best way I can describe the location is the space between the two hemispheres of your brain. The cyst is at the top of this space, and what Mike left behind is at the bottom. I am in no imminent danger, not like things were before when Mike took up the entire space and then some, but here is the disappointing news I received. I must have the same procedure all over again to drain and remove the cyst, and while we're in there will make sure that Mike has totally vacated his space. I was less than thrilled to hear that. I just wanted to be done with all of it, and I know that many will say, but at least it's not cancer, and it could be worse, and 1000's of other attempts at what they feel are comforting words, but the fact remains that for the second time in the span of a year, I am going to have to have brain surgery, and IT SUCKS!!! It's the exact same surgery, with the exact same recovery time which means loss of time from work and more money that I don't have. And before you ask, yes, I have insurance, but paying 30% of a $229,000 hospital bill, even after insurance knocks it down to their allowable charge is still an expense I can't afford, and yes, I know I can set up a payment plan, but I don't have any EXTRA. That's the facts, plain and simple people. Right now, it sounds like I am throwing myself a pity party. I'm not! I write this blog to be honest about the way I feel and think. Part of the reason I do that, especially with something like this, is because I want other people who are going through this or something like it to read this and say, hey, I feel like that too. I'm not alone out here going through my crisis. Somebody understands the way I feel.
So, plan of action, for those who are curious. I will wait, which my doctor says is ok this time, until I can earn enough vacation and sick time to cover the month it will take to do this. That will help with a little of the financial dark cloud. So we are probably looking at early 2017. Until then, Mike and his new roommate better behave, there's no vacancy in Hotel Cella!

And in the End....

We're all going to die. That's the plain and simple truth. No one lives forever, so death is no surprise. It is how and when we die that troubles us. I remember seeing a made-for-tv movie when I was 10 about a woman who was dying of cancer. I can't remember the entire movie, but I think it was probably the first time I had ever heard of cancer. My family has no history of cancer, so I had never dealt with a relative having the disease. I do remember thinking, even though I was only 10, if I ever get cancer, and they tell me there's nothing they can do, I'm not going to have chemo therapy because I want to live what little time I have left not being sick as a dog. Now, let me interject here. I am not saying that no one should have chemo therapy who has cancer. I know how much good it can do. I have seen it help my friends. In this particular film it was a matter of you have very little time. We can extend your life a little bit, but you'll be sick for the rest of your days kind of thing. I decided then that I didn't want THAT! 40 years later, at age 50. I still feel that way. At least I say I would make that decision, but, truth be told, I don't think any of us can make a decision like that until we hear those actual words, "There's nothing we can do." I have been catching episodes of a show called Chasing Life. It centers around a young woman in her 20's who has been diagnosed with Leukemia. As she deals with having cancer she meets a young man who has a brain tumor. He tells her that he has opted not to have surgery to try and remove the tumor because of the risks of going into a coma or living life as a vegetable. He wants to die with dignity and his mind in tact. That poses the question is it life we want or quality of life? Right now, without the threat of death hanging over my head, I would choose quality of life even if it was shorter. But....ask me again if living a few extra months, even in a weak and sick state,  would allow me to see my daughters get married or my first grandchild born, and I may have a different outlook all together. I found out today that someone I know has heard those words, and it made me think, and it pissed me off, and I wasn't going to give it the Mary Sunshine treatment and look at the bright side. Let's be honest. When someone tells you you are going to die. This awful thing you have is going to kill you, there is no bright side, and frankly it pisses me off more when people try to offer phrases like, "You've lived a full life," or "5 or 10 more years, that's pretty good!" I'm sorry! No it's not. It's SHIT! I know people mean well when they say these things, but sometimes it's just better to own what's wrong and face it head on, and know we don't always have to put on a brave front. It's okay to be mad as hell that you have cancer and it's going to rob you of your life. I mean, come on! You have cancer! I didn't tell my friend anything except that I was sorry, and I was here for him. And isn't that all we really want in life is someone to be there for us in good times and bad? It doesn't make the rough times easy, but it sure as hell makes them a lot less hard!