The surgical consult was today. I learned the permanent colostomy bag is non-negotiable. From the beginning I expected that. The finality of it is still heavy to digest. There’s a chance I don’t need it. There’s a chance the cancer is gone, but there’s no way to test for it up front, so to gamble it would be taking a blind risk with an 80% chance the cancer will return if I don’t go with the bag. In order for my butt to heal properly, they’ll be bringing in a plastic surgeon to remove muscles from my stomach to move down below. It will be a six-hour operation in early February, with a little over two months of recovery time.
What I want is to not have cancer to begin with. Beyond that I choose life. I still have my arms and my legs. I can walk, I can talk, I can use my hands. I can still be the artist I want to be. Still, I’ve sat around today eating cream cheese straight from the foil feeling sorry for myself. Tomorrow will be better.