like string theory
My new diet is pretty great. I’ve had an upset stomach as long as I can remember, but not this week. I’ve been on a really strict Leap Program diet tailored to my allergies. There’s a short list of things I can have the first week, and then each day I can add one new thing to the list until about a month later, all meant to test how each food makes me feel. This week, for the first time, I feel no tension in my stomach while I’m digesting. In fact, I’m so relaxed I feel like I could fall asleep at any moment. This is the opposite of what I’m used to. I’ve always struggled with feeling tense and with insomnia. It’s good to finally know why and that I don’t have to feel that way anymore. Not only does a lot of food make me ill, it’s the frontrunner in possible reasons I have cancer of the COLON. To everyone (including the doctors at Keiser) who never took my food sensitivities seriously, you can suck my tumor. (Evidence I’m also experiencing cranky withdrawal symptoms from the diet change. I miss you, sugar!)
I had an appointment with my Naturopath this morning (the kind of doctor that takes sensitivities and anything else that’s bothering you seriously). On the way I went to run an errand at Freddie’s, where I took a potty break. This wacky lady in a completely mismatched outfit was talking to herself in the mirror while brushing her hair until I left my stall. “I don’t like where they put the mirrors,” she tells me, “it’s not good, they should be here, look at this ink stain on my purse I keep rubbing it every day.”
“I wouldn’t even have noticed if you hadn’t pointed it out.”
“Oh good! My you have an adorable haircut. Goodbye”
This wouldn’t be significant except I cut my hair a week ago and this is the first positive feedback I received on this cut. From someone of … not sound mind. For those who don’t know, I cut my own hair, and I’m not that great at it. Once in a while I manage a cute cut, but most of the time I’m doing damage control for a few weeks, after giving myself an accidental mullet or something equally embarrassing.
Anyway, you’re here for cancer, not to listen to me talk about my awesomely horrible hair. Cancer is way more interesting. Having a naturopath is like what I imaging doctors used to be like before the insurance companies took over. My doctor knows me, listens to me, takes notes, and does research when I’m not around to help improve my health. He’s already got treatment plans lined up depending on what stage I am and whether I have surgery right away or chemo. Then there’s his list for things I can do once the cancer is gone to help keep it from coming back, Mainly this new diet I’m on, plus some teas and healthy stuffs. I learned today that before my tumor was a tumor, it was a polyp, at that polyp began to grow up to ten years ago. I’m diggin all the information he’s giving me. The only thing I’m not into is the homeopathy. “It’s science,” say the people who have faith in it. I’m not big on faith, I like modern medicine, well tested and proven effective. As it is, I should be living in a bubble, not taking medicines that are described by the people who are supposed to understand them, “like string theory, just outside of our understanding.” Uh. Nnnnope.
Tomorrow I meet my oncologist. Thursday I meet my surgeon, who will be knocking me out and sticking things up my butt. The paperwork says I need a babysitter the rest of the day, because I will have poor judgment and make bad decisions on my own. If that’s grounds for a babysitter, I should probably have one way more often. The good stuff happens a week from today when I get an ultrasound of my tumor done (another day they recommend a babysitter). That’s when I find out what stage I am and we start moving forward. Everything is slow motion right now. Sometimes I stare at the clock just to make sure it’s still moving.