I am writing two posts today. This one is a bit different.

Look at this beautiful thing. 

It was entered into a contest sponsored by Nikon and won
11th place.

I hate it. I mean REALLY hate it. But I can't look away at the same time. It is a picture of 2 cancer cells getting ready to turn into 4.

What I WISH it was...  I wish it was a pic of some really cool (harmless) crystalline life form that only Spock could talk to. I wish there was no such thing except in some Trekkies wish list from an online auction he/she could never afford.

I am especially frustrated about this today because of a blog.  A blog I don't normally read, but the author of stark. raving. mad. mommy which is a blog I DO read and is in fact posted as one of my favorites, guest blogged.

This blogger (not SRMM ~  the Pajamas and Coffee one) swears a whole lot more than I do, so I keep it as a guilty little secret I visit when I think no one is looking. I read SRMM, on the other hand, all the time. She is my morning fix.  She doesn't know me from Adam. But I pretend to know her because I get her. And she is funnier than h-e- double toothpick. But today I wanted to punch a wall over something she wrote. Today she wrote about finding a lump in her breast. Yeah, it may be a cyst, but I remember that waiting. The wondering. That worry. I SO do not envy her in this stage.

I have listened, prayed, and cried as SO many wonderful people have been affected by this horrible disease. So many I love. Every time it brings back that horrid day when I first found out.

The doctor had told me I needed to come in as soon as possible about the results of all the testing I had been doing. It was SUCH a busy and hectic day, so I asked if my hubby should come in with me. They actually told me that it was my choice. This is the thought that ran through my brain.

"Well it must not be too bad, just heartburn crap and how to treat it, SO relieved it isn't anything serious...  soooo... I'll just add it to my list of stuff to get done today and let the hubby get his honey-do list done. Glad all that worrying crap is over."

BAD mistake. She sat me down in that freaking FREEZING examination room and basically told me I not only have cancer, but I have a kind I should never have. A kind that affects smokers, drinkers, and men over 65.  A particularly aggressive and nasty kind where the mortality rate hovers around 80 to 85 percent within the first year. I later found out those were the really overly optimistic numbers.

I think I kept it together until I got out to the parking lot. I sobbed, I mean really sobbed, for over an hour. Then I had to drive home. Alone. My husband stayed on the phone with me -and yes honey I did hear you swearing under your breath at the doctor for not INSISTING someone ANYONE come in with me - and I yes I heard you swearing at yourself for not going no matter what you stubborn wifey-poo said. And yes, I did swear at myself for not listening to you.  And yes I am grateful you were by my side at every major appointment after that and even most of the not so major ones.

On that long drive home ( it was really only about 10 miles, but it seemed more like 10 thousand), I dryly observed that my sobs sounded a lot like my deep belly laughs - only upside down. I think that was when I determined I was NOT going to let this monster beat me.

And I haven't. So far, with Gods help, I have defied all the odds, in fact I think I made my own odds up as I went. It made me happier. It's a good thing I didn't see the documentary Crazy Sexy Cancer BEFORE  did all my treatments, or the hubby might have seen some weird stuff going on.

As it ended up , yes I have pain in the butt crap  -like that rouge feeding tube- but nothing that is life threatening anymore. Once in awhile I do get scared about remission, but I can't let that rule my life. I go forward now,  grateful for every second, even the hard ones. Belly-aching, pain, annoyances - they all mean I am alive. And I will never take that for granted again.