hoofbeats

"so why does your doctor think you have cancer?"

news to me, but I answered the lab technician anyway. it's not real - can't be. I won't research. who, me? me, pull up Jstor and my alumni library database to pull the latest research? me, print it out at the public library, paperclip each one together, and label it with a blue sticky note with 'neuroendocrine/carcinoid tumors' in Sharpie to add to the piles of research that I have *not* done to figure out What Is Wrong With Me, because no one else cares to? Never.

I already read them all. I read them twice each. probably more. I've sat on them for days, all three. I ignore the symptoms part. can't go down that rabbit hole - I'm looking for something else. I want facts. I want statistics.

How long do they take to grow? (9 years). How long do people live if you catch them early enough? (perfectly fine long lives). How often are they caught early enough? (Not nearly as often as they should be). What are the odds of development in the pelvis, not the abdomen?

too slim, according to my specialist, to be worth another scan. she originally ordered me a Full-Body PET. My insurance denied it. It was amended to a triple phase abdominal CT (contrast). Now, my flare is easing up. I look "better." I sound "better." there is no need to push insurance for that scan, now. its so rare, anyway.

That word builds a whole world in my head, though. its latched onto me, to the depths of my soul, and not in the special-snowflake-syndrome pleasant way, but in the severely unpleasant one which makes you wish you had been born as anyone else. "Rare." carcinoid tumors in the pelvis are rare.

it's rare. okay, like POTS? like Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome? or rare like Mast Cell Activate Syndrome? like red hair, or amoxicillin allergies, and ambidexterity, and perfect pitch? rare like the worst case of domestic abuse & violence seen in the state of New York in someone's four decade career? rare like losing three friends before we were even 18?

tell me, Doctor, because I have been extremely unlucky in my life. do you mean to say that the odds are so low - that it is rare like all of that? because if so, given my track record, it seems like this is a risk I cannot take.

so I leave the appointment and drop the façade and sleep for the next three hours, because that's what clinic does to you - wipes you out. and I spend my day nauseous, hoping not to throw up, aware of the fact that yes, I have the weight back, and yes, I feel pretty good lately if we're gonna compare, but it isn't going to last. I know this cycle. I know what comes next. soon everything will change and nothing I eat will digest properly. I'll lose 20 pounds in two weeks, and it won't be a good thing, and I will once again feel like I am dying. on the third week, just as quickly, it'll stop. the weight will come back in two to three more. I'll be "stable" for maybe a month, if I'm lucky. any longer is rare.

rare, like neuroendocrine tumors in the pelvis - apparently not worth assessing for.