My Own Private War.

Just to let you know: I'm allright.

There's no point in denying that I've definitely been better, but I manage, and I haven't received any bad news. Quite the opposite, actually: The test results I got back did not show any signs of the cancer having spread. That doesn't necessarily mean that it hasn't, but it does mean I can have surgery - and that there's a chance I won't need chemo and radiation. After the surgery they'll analyze everything they removed, and then we'll know for sure what needs to be done.

On Tuesday, I'm going to meet with the surgeons to discuss what type of surgery will be performed and hopefully find out when it will take place. I really, really, really, really, really want to get it all over with as soon as possible. It's exhausting, walking around knowing that my body is fighting its own private war, and that there's nothing I can do to help.

I must have thought a thousand times that I ought to update the blog, but it's like... I don't know what to say. I'm afraid I haven't exactly been in touch with my feelings lately. I'm sort of trying to keep them at arm's length, you know? I can't keep up the constant crying, it drains me, I need a break from those useless tears. Writing blog posts means having to focus on what's actually going on, and I'm not up for that.

Someone commented that maybe I could write about other things for a while; books, music, movies, everyday life... And I wish I could. Hopefully I'll be able to, later. But as hard as I might try to keep my feelings at a distance, I honestly can't concentrate on anything except this. These [insert various X-rated profanities here] circumstances. I try to distract myself any way I can think of, and yet all I truly want to do is close my eyes and scream, because it's all so ******* unfair. Come to think of it, I probably would, if I didn't know how scared the cats would be. Loud noises are one of their least favorite things, right up there with closed doors, rain, our neighbours' devil of a cat Sotis, having to stay inside for a whole day and one of their toys being stuck somewhere they can't reach it.

I'll try to stay in touch. I really will. And don't worry about me, please - if I receive bad news, I'll let you know. But I can't even tell you how much I hope I won't have to. I'm done with bad news. They seriously suck. I'm done.

One other thing: All I want for Christmas is that all of you who haven't had a pap smear lately will get your adorable asses over to a health care centre and get yourselves checked out. Oh, and quit smoking (or simply don't start). Just... take care of yourselves. Pretty please?