It's been awhile folks. Ah, where to start?
Last week Wednesday I got a text from DTabs - [The Ex] is having a procedure tomorrow. He might have testicular cancer.
WTF?! Attempted to reach the Ex, some weird message, no answer. Did he really block my number like he said he was going to? What a child. Sent an email and a text. Finally calls me back.
The Ex - Been having tests done past couple months, will find out if it's cancer tomorrow. Thanks for the concern, but don't worry about it. Go on with your life as if you never found this out.
Me - WTF?
Thursday I get a voice message from the Ex - Guess who has testicular cancer? It's me! giggle giggle.
Me - Waiting for the "just kidding" portion of this message.....WTF?
That weekend we went with a bus load of friends to the dog track, got Christmas trees, watched movies and basically went back to the way things were. Minus the cancerous mess in his pants, of course.
Monday he went in for surgery. Monday night I brought him back home. Of course not one doctor spoke with us before we left but we did have a very unhelpful nurse wheel him out while not explaining anything to us either. Seriously? Let me do a dramatic re-enactment of the days events for you.
Welcome to Elmbrook, I hear you have cancer let's just snip snip that out for ya. Now just sit tight in your room and watch your Radio Shack tv circa '83 until we figure out step 2. By the by, you're spending the night. I know we said you didn't have to but we like you. How about another test? What for? Oh don't worry your pretty lil head about these doctory matters. Zap zap test done! Now you can eat some slurry and wait til we decide what that test was all about....2 hours later slurry arrives...Guess what, we changed our minds. Leave. Now. Hmmm...okay.
Thursday we had a follow up appointment with the Emperor of Urology. Well, according to him at least. I'm the king of urologists, rah rah, I'm old so that means I'm experienced and wise, please no pictures, you'll probably die if you go to anyone else, rah rah. When the Magnate of Urine ripped off the bandage on the Ex's abdomen I thought security may be called as I saw a tentative hand fly near the offending Prefect's face. I get the whole rip the band aid off quickly scenario and applaud it's effectiveness, however this was a 5 inch bandage secured with what I can only assume was gorilla glue. Hmmm....looks good. 8-syllable medical terms, blah blah blah, hear how smart I sound, I own a medical dictionary and checked out WebMD before your appointment, blah blah. Meanwhile, I'm furiously taking notes trying to decipher the Da Vinci code of a prognosis. Made a note to buy a cryptex before future appointments.
The Ex - What's the deal with the stitch in my testicle? When or how is that going to come out?
Sovereign of Urinary Tracts - Hmm...dunno. Lemme see! Well maybe I'll cast an expulsion spell on it later, or maybe just cut it out another time.
So what's next? Find an oncologist and start chemo as soon as possible. Well we've got some recommendations for docs at X, Y and Z hospitals. Oh, don't go there. Then I won't see you again and you'll probably die because I won't know what they're doing and my methods are secretive and way better. Do you wanna die? Umm...no, but we're probably going to get a few opinions. Fine. I've got other reproductive organs to fiddle around with. Your funeral. Alright then, thanks for the anagrams and Jeopardy words, we'll have fun decoding this when we get home.
So that's where we're at. Meeting with oncologists next week, hopefully one with some information that makes sense to someone who did not spend a decade in Med school or study with the Knights Templar.
I haven't had time to process this whole situation yet and I think that's why I'm relatively sane at the moment. Everything just happened so quickly. I think cancer was about the only thing that would have brought me into the same room with the Ex's family (we have issues with one another). The fact that I wrote a whole effen post on finally letting go, then being thrust back into everything with a vengeance is almost laughable. Who would have seen this coming?! Cancer is a really crappy Christmas present. My focus is making sure he gets the best medical treatment and that he's comfortable and knows he's cared for. This sucks...