Today was a heavy day. Gwendolyn might be harvesting a mass cell tumor. In 11 days, it will be removed, including a wider area to determine if the edges of her lump are granular like the centre point of the baby lump itself. If edges of sample are aggressive and high grade, then more testing and potentially chemotherapy might be recommended. The lump site is located close to her jugular, so the doctor must heed extra caution. During her wellness check of today, the doctor said that it looks “unusual enough to remove. But it does not look classic.” This gives me hope, but the prospect of putting my baby underneath of anesthesia is very upsetting.
It is upsetting because I cannot control what is happening. Last year, we had a very very very good friend, Gwendolyn’s boyfriend, actually, venture into cardiac arrest at induction of anesthesia. He was a strong, brilliant boy yet did not survive the operation. Thus it scares me because only 17 months ago, Gwendolyn responded with tremors when having anesthesia for an oral operation. The cardiologist and anesthesiologist believe it was response from separation anxiety from me, but belief and reality are two separate items. The unknown is my fear. I like to be in control. Here she is today, being inspected before the pea-sized lump was inspected. Being lured to the divine doctor with peanut butter!!
I am a control freak. And the fact that I cannot control the health of my princess is so FUCKING hard. She has given me life. And it is my sole mission to make hers the best quality as possible. Am I making the correct decision with having this surgery? If I do NOT elect the surgery, is living in the unknown worth the trade-off of avoiding anesthesia? I am crying now.
It is nearly five o’clock in the morning on Sunday. We napped late on Saturday night, exhausted from the events and news of today, rising from our slumber at one o’clock in the morning Sunday. It was tempting to have a martini and to zone out with my baby, but instead I walked to the Peloton bike, completing a beautiful workout with my beautiful friend Jennifer Jacobs. Funny that I craved not just a workout, but one with a girl whom I call a friend. It was like going to the bar and crying over my pain with someone who understands me.
Ride was followed by 75 minutes of Ashtanga yoga. My body, namely brain, needed the breath and movement. Followed by posing for the newest Instagram challenge by Chicago Yoga Lab.
Now I understand the #FuckCancer mantra more than my tears can ever paint.
We are going to watch a Greta Garbo film now, A Woman of Affairs. Do you know that it is Gwendolyn who spurred my love affair with old film? Once upon a time in 2008, I visited to my parents’ home, and puppy Gwendolyn wanted nothing but to squirm and bawk at the television. Then suddenly, I flipped to TCM who featured Alfred Hitchcock’s adaptation of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, and Gwendolyn sat still, to attention, captivated by the picture. It is ironic that nine years later, we continue our old film love affair, AND my best human friend on Earth is named Rebecca.
It is now time for a martini. Followed by Saturday’s uneaten dinner which will likely be consumed at six o’clock in the morning.
I know that you will be compelled to comment with your amazing love, support, and kind thoughts; but I please ask that you do not, as I want to stay quiet on this matter. I am a strong person and need to find my own way to accepting what is the hardest decision that I’ve made thus far in life, that is, putting my baby under anesthesia for a preventative, mysterious scenario. I ask that you just please say a prayer, a wish, a hope, a mantra of good energy for my baby Gwendolyn.