So many times in this life we stand at a crossroads and years later, can trace the consequences of the direction we chose back to the present day. I had a choice to have a colonoscopy, or to not have one, based on a vague change in bowel habits that persisted for a few years. Despite my fears, I decided to do it. I might have saved my own life by making that choice. Of the two polyps that were found and removed, the largest one, 5mm, was pre-malignant. Standard screening age is 50. I’m 37.
To say I am spinning out over this would be a massive understatement. I found out the day before I left for a great vacation. The pathology was released to me, at my request, through the EMR. No interpretation or recommendation came with it. The official channel is to send a letter through the U.S. mail two-three weeks after the procedure. I emphasized this because, to be blunt, it’s a thoughtless and outdated practice. I told my GI this, after letting her know it was released to me in this fashion and she implied it was my fault for asking it to be posted to the EMR. I had to google “sessile serrated adenoma.”
The recommendation is for a colonoscopy every three years. I want genetic testing, and I want it now. No more surprises. There are huge holes in the family history. I don’t even know my paternal grandmother’s name, let alone her medical history. My so-called “mother” doesn’t believe in getting medical care, so she’s a useless source of medical history.
Speaking of my “mother,” I never told her I was having this done after she told me not to do it. So I told her after the fact and about the pre-cancer. Then she made a terrible joke about it. I am truly Nobody’s Daughter. I have no one to go to for comfort. It’s a terrible feeling.
Of course my thoughts turn to Dr. Overinvolved at a time like this, but thinking I can go to him for comfort is just a myth my brain likes to run with based on that tiny moment in time. There are hundreds of me’s and just one of him; he wouldn’t help me in the present, or even remember me.
A few months ago I felt a lump in my left breast. I have not seen a doctor about it. I keep thinking it’s going to go away, but it’s still there and I don’t feel anything like it on the right side.
My vigilance and commitment to my self-preservation is laughable, really. There’s not a lot of enjoyment in my life. There’s no love, no sense of purpose. No one needs me. In addition to being nobody’s daughter, I am no one’s mom, no one’s wife, no one’s girlfriend, no one’s mistress… No matter what I do, something will get me, like it does all of us, eventually. Why get in the way of nature? That is honestly how I feel right now. I am invisible and irrelevant.
I was much happier last week when I was on the road. I followed a band I love, and have loved for twenty-five years, to every show they did for a week. It was glorious. Each day, I would find my way to the next city, sometimes I drove, sometimes I wandered airport terminals, then I would check in to my hotel and go to the show. That’s all I had to do. It made me happy. Very little does, which was why I chose to do it.