Here’s something I wrote in between appointments before my diagnosis, back before all of your wonderful comments and hopeful stories, when my only exposure to cancer was its unforgiving side. I haven’t edited it since.
Nothing makes you ponder the meaning of Mother’s Day quite like finding a lump where there shouldn’t be one. And then hearing post-mammogram murmurs that include words like “curious” and “needs further investigation,” followed shortly thereafter by a deep-tissue biopsy. And even though I knew it would turn out to be nothing, that there was no need to be alarmist, there was also that teeny tiny possibility, however small, that this could potentially signal the end of the road for me.
Me: Okay, calm down, Tammy. We’re going to be just fine.
Me: That’s what everybody says, but then how do you explain all these people with cancer?
Me: But we’re still young. Sort of. Mom doesn’t have cancer. Neither of our grandmothers had cancer. Everyone lives to be 90.
Me: Yeah, that’s what they want you to believe. That you have aaaaaallll the time in the world before they cut you down in the prime of your life.
Me: Who’s they?
Me: I don’t know. Secret government agencies? Terrorists? Monsanto? Whoever gives out cancer.
And then there were all the nagging questions. Questions like: Was it the meat that did it? My lack of religion? Will my kids even remember me if I die now? My face, I mean, not just a nebulous source of yelling. They’re still so little. Who will cook for them? What if they go back through the old digital photos someday and find more pictures of my meals than pictures of them and think I loved my dumb blog more than them. What if they grow up sad and bitter with the world instead of gradually easing into the sadness and bitterness of the world? What if they stop laughing?
What about Husband? Will he recover? What if he refuses to fall in love ever again? What if that refusal has nothing to do with me dying? What if he does fall in love again and remarries a bombshell? A bombshell with housekeeping skills. Will my spirit be mad?
What if nobody comes to my funeral? What if nobody can think of anything to say during the eulogy: “She was…a girl.” God, that would be awkward. I’m glad I won’t be there to see it.
What if people decide it’s less painful to forget me than to remember me? And five years down the road people are afraid to even bring up my name. I’ll be the unnamed dead person no one wants to talk about. What if you can’t donate your organs if you have cancer? What if no one remembers that I want to be cremated instead of buried and that I want my ashes sprinkled in two specific places and that I want my funeral at another specific place that’s not a church but I never write them down so no one knows what they are? What if it doesn’t matter?
What if my Dad stops believing in God? What if my Mom loses hope? What if Nonni outlives me? It would kill her. But at least then I’d have some company up there. Well, unless I go down there, instead. Hmmmmmm. Maybe God would let her write letters of a non-flammable sort? Sent by carrier pigeon so I can have lunch, too?
What if there’s nothing but blackness?
…
Well, that was fun! This is the part where I was supposed to say that the results came back fine. That I totally wasn’t worried. That the lumps were just raisins and, by the way, here’s a recipe for oatmeal cookies. (This is why you shouldn’t write your posts before real-life events unfold.) But at least now I’m off the hook for typing up the recipe because, really, are you hungry for cookies right now?
Screw those raisins! You're going to kick their asses!
We're all rooting for you and even though I don't know you in person, I feel the compulsion to offer myself up if you need anything. No clue what I could do, but I'm here.
Posted by: April in CT | June 04, 2009 at 10:31 AM
OK, so this is really corny, but I just cried a little... ya, I know, but you are honestly my FAVORITE blog of all time, and well, Ive become kind of attached. That said, I know two brest cancer patients, one was my grandmother, who went on to die of very old age(and Alzheimer's, managed to keep her sense of humor though, practical joker till the end) and an x-girlfriends mother (one of those Italian-type mothers who was obsessed with feeding me, no matter how much I had already eaten) who is currently working effortlessly towards the whole 'old age' thing. So I have every confidence that you'll be A-OK. And as my father used to say whenever us kids would get sick: "You just need to eat more broccoli, kid". A quote that became infinitely more funny after his whole 'Diverticulites' episode.. he's still kicking like a mule too, btw..
Always a fan,
Watson
Posted by: Watson Blair | June 04, 2009 at 11:49 AM
I applaud the level of sharing you are willing to put out here in your blog. I wish I had words of comfort and reassurance. I do believe that the body is capable of incredible healing, no matter what the medical world says. I read a book in the early 90s called Quantum Healing by Deepak Chopra and it made so much sense to me. It's one I would recommend if you haven't read it already. And I'm looking forward to doing the Eat Local Challenge with you this year. That was how I stumbled into your blog last year and it has made a huge impact on how I purchase food. Thank you. Perhaps by the time we reach our 90s eating local will just be a natural way of life!! :o)
Posted by: Melissa RIley | June 04, 2009 at 12:52 PM
hi Tammy,
I found your blog through Mike M. We work together and when he found out what a big foodie I was he immediately thought of you. You are in my thoughts and I wish you the best outcome.
Food is a huge comfort and when my health is really a challenge I turn to raw food. I like all foods but sometimes the most basic seems to be the most revitalizing.
I will keep checking in on you.
A in Burlington.
Posted by: Alise | June 04, 2009 at 12:54 PM
I know, I know things are serious and I shouldn't be making jokes...but then I never was very good at following those rules and doing what I was supposed to and well maybe laughter is good and oh, well with all that build up it isn't even funny. But when I was reading your conversation with you on who "they" are -- well of course there must be a cancer fairy, right? But then I tried to picture her and well...it is a tough mental exercise.
You go girl!! Keep the spirits up!! Maybe you should make some cookies -- something without lumps -- like sugar cookies or ginger bread cookies?
Posted by: jasmine | June 04, 2009 at 01:32 PM
Fuck, it just got all dusty here at work. Or it's allergies.
Posted by: Ed | June 04, 2009 at 02:21 PM
I had never heard of you until a couple of days ago during a food blog search. And I think I'm already falling for you (glad my wife doesn't read english - though I'm sure your husband does).
Hummm...have I heard anything regarding cookies? Isn't this the stuff you say in your FAQ page that could buy some your love? Where is it?
Posted by: Euclydes Santos | June 04, 2009 at 04:15 PM
I can't remember the last time I read something that combined humor and searing poignancy so effortlessly. Thank you. Hoping that everything goes as smoothly as possible.
Posted by: Susanna | June 04, 2009 at 09:57 PM
I feel horrible for laughing at "God, that would be awkward. I’m glad I won’t be there to see it." I also feel horrible for thinking that this is a great hook since I have been checking avidly for updates and thinking about you whenever I'm on my computer. Not a stalker... really...
What I mean to say is that my thoughts are with you. When you feel like sharing, you have quite a fan base here to share with and when you don't, we'll understand.
Posted by: melch | June 05, 2009 at 12:31 AM
wow, i just started following your blog so i feel a little awkward saying anything...i admire your attitude and can't even imagine being in your shoes...just wanted to say that while it's great to keep your spirits up, it's also okay to feel a little scared. either way, you will beat this.
Posted by: bakingepiphanies | June 05, 2009 at 10:55 AM
You know what they say - if you let it get to you, then the terrorists have won ;)
Posted by: Pam | June 05, 2009 at 11:19 AM
I found myself alternately laughing and wincing at this. I'm still rather stuck for words, so I'm going to stick with wishing you luck again.
Posted by: adele | June 05, 2009 at 12:24 PM
I'd personally remember you as the person who promised me cookies, then made me cry instead.
Posted by: Brian | June 05, 2009 at 01:41 PM
1) Tammy who? Just practicing.
2) Nothing against your husband who seems perfectly nice but the odds of him finding a babe who can houseclean aren't that great.
3) Can we be honest? Your boobs were never your strong suit anyway!
Posted by: Linda | June 05, 2009 at 03:58 PM
I'd be more worried that Husband would fall for Farmer. Wouldn't that be a kick in the head?
Now please excuse me while I go and wipe the tears from my keyboard before it shorts out...
Posted by: andrea | June 05, 2009 at 09:57 PM
Ed -- It's definitely dusty. No, you're right, it's allergies. Wait, did someone just slice into an onion?
Posted by: Fish Sauce Hater | June 06, 2009 at 12:51 PM
Not. Going. To. Happen.
Love, Alecto
Posted by: Alecto | June 06, 2009 at 01:18 PM
Humor helped. Alot.
If you have to have chemo, have your young kids buzz off your hair. Not only will the kids will have the most interesting show-and-tell at school the next day, you will be telling and re-telling the story yourself. Like I'm doing, 6 years later.
Posted by: dena | June 06, 2009 at 02:58 PM
Hi Tammy, It's Karyn, Mary's daughter. I keep typing and erasing thinking is it creepy to type your someone's internet friend because you read their blog and don't comment?? (sorry really not good with the blog etiquette, in fact I may even be commenting twice, if so, sorry again! ) I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you during this difficult time, and please don't hesitate should you see a certain car next door. All the kids love a play date at Mary's. I think our little ones are v.close in age. Good wishes, Karyn
Posted by: karyn | June 06, 2009 at 09:18 PM
Karyn: Thanks so much. Our sandbox is always open for business!
dena: Yayyyyy! I love hearing all of these survivor stories! It will be a relief to have no hair so Husband and I can stop arguing about its length.
Alecto: You're right. You're always right!
Fish Sauce Hater: Speaking of pollen, I was just riding my bike along the Charles and there was a half-inch of accumulation of that fuzzy, snowlike pollen that's floating around these days. It was weird. So, yeah, it's allergies.
andrea: Totally!
Linda: What's the Internet for if not for honesty? No, my boobs are definitely not my strong suit, but all that's going to change now. At least on one side!
Brian: Yeah, that was poor planning. Crying makes you hungry.
adele: Thank you!
Pam: Well, we can't have that, can we?
bakingepiphanies: Thanks so much for your comment!
melch: I really appreciate that.
Susanna: What a nice comment. Thank you!
Euclydes Santos: Well, it's about time somebody fell in love with me. Finally!
Ed: Just trying to help you work the sympathy angle with your clients.
jasmine: But of course you should be making jokes! But, man, that Cancer Fairy is one homely chic. And stingy with the coinage.
Alise: Thank you. Any friend of Mike's is a friend of mine!
Melissa Riley: Thanks for your great comment. I'll definitely check out that book.
Watson: That's so sweet. I didn't even know you were still reading. Thank you for the kind words and encouragement. Means a lot.
April in CT: Thanks, April!!
Posted by: Tammy | June 07, 2009 at 02:24 PM
Maybe you just have a raisin in your breast. That would be both "curious" and "need further investigation."
Keep smiling. It will take you far.
Posted by: NurseJen | June 07, 2009 at 03:35 PM
Maybe we really SHOULD set up that fight we never had? You could pretend that I'm cancer and kick my ass...
On a serious note... I cannot stop thinking about you (and no, I don't mean in "that" way). ;)
Posted by: The Other Tammy | June 09, 2009 at 03:44 PM
I'm so sorry to be late over here Tammy, I am desperately trying to catch up. This post was absolutely amazing and wonderful and awful. I am sending you so much love and warm thoughts. One of my favoritest people ever on the interwebs. None of those what if's will have to be answered now dammit!
Posted by: Melissa | June 11, 2009 at 03:06 PM