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@@ -5,23 +5,23 @@
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<p>Colon cancer can look a lot like grief or fatigue, so I didn't recognize it for maybe 2 years. Lining up so well with my mom's passing and other stressful events isn't bad timing, though, because God's timing is always perfect. </p>
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<h2>it's just grief </h2>
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<p>I've had low energy for months, maybe even a year. I haven't had energy for cooking, programming, or even videogames, so I've fallen massively behind in all my hobbies. I've been really lame, I know. The time lines up perfectly with my mom's passing in September 2022, so I assumed it was part of grieving and would pass in time. </p>
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<p>I've had low energy for months, maybe even a year. I haven't had energy for cooking, programming, or even videogames, so I've fallen massively behind in all my hobbies. Basically, I've been really lame. The timing lines up perfectly with my mom's passing in September 2022, so I assumed it was part of grieving and would pass eventually. </p>
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<h2>it's just a pulled muscle </h2>
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<p>About six months before the diagnosis, I felt the worst pain I've ever felt in my right side. It felt like a dagger in my liver, and I could not lift my arm over my head. I could barely sit up. Before the pain, I had been nonstop coughing every night for weeks, so constantly I couldn't have conversations. Google suggested it was a torn muscle, which constant coughing can cause, so that's what I went with as an explanation. After two or three weeks, the pain dropped to a manageable level, only hurting some days. </p>
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<p>About six months before the diagnosis, I felt the worst pain I've ever felt in my right side. It felt like a dagger in my liver, and I could not lift my arm over my head. I could barely even sit up. Before the pain, I had been nonstop coughing every night for weeks, so constantly I couldn't have conversations. Google suggested it was a torn muscle, which constant coughing can cause, so that's what I went with as an explanation. After two or three weeks, the pain dropped to a manageable level, only hurting some days. It concerned me, but I ultimately let it go. </p>
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<h2>it's just stress </h2>
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<p>My health was in the background all 2023. The entire year, I made it my mission to fix my relationship with my dad. He never accepted me as "I came out wrong," so he cut me out of his life as much as possible. Mom's death softened him and I think he has been making small efforts to try to be my dad, so I took it as a chance to mend. It's hard to read someone's heart, though. He is stony and never opened up to me even a little over the course of a year of accompanying him to his therapy group, trying to arrange father-daughter time, and numerous chatty phone calls. </p>
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<p>My health was in the background all 2023. Instead, the entire year, I made it my mission to fix my relationship with my dad. He never accepted me as "I came out wrong," so he cut me out of his life as much as possible. Mom's death softened him and I think he has been making small efforts to try to be my dad, so I took it as a chance to mend. It's hard to read someone's heart, though. He is stony and never opened up to me even a little over the course of a year of accompanying him to his therapy group, trying to arrange father-daughter time, and numerous chatty phone calls. </p>
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<p>It was more than wanting a normal relationship with my dad, though. I felt like I was sharing the gospel. Whenever I would suggest he pray about his grief, he would give vaguities like "I have been having conversations with God" that thrilled me. My dad, who used to disparage me for believing the Bible is true, is having conversations with God! I felt like I could convince him to pray, convince him to read his Bible, convince him to take spiritual matters seriously. I felt like I could share part of his spiritual life, like a healthy father and daughter should. I prayed for hours at a time that this would happen. </p>
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<p>This was led by passion, not the Spirit, though, so no matter how tactfully I would bring up spiritual matters, he turned more and more vague until finally he used God's name in vain to shut me up. I had told him group counseling is good if it works for him, but he will have a deeper recovery if he combines it with personal Bible reading. He told me God said group counseling is all he needs, especially since it is already held at a church. My passion led him to put words in God's mouth, and I immediately felt convicted and dropped my mission. It is a difficult thing for me to hear, but Jesus told His disciples not to waste time on those who reject the Word, after all. All we are to do is share the way then leave people in God's hands. No one changes hearts but God. </p>
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<p>Also during this time, he was getting in wrecks or near-wrecks as often as he was getting in a car. Some of them were severe for the other drivers, so I took over as his Uber out of concern. He wasn't on drugs or anything, he is just the most anxious person on earth. I didn't help, though. He would scream and backseat drive so aggressively that <em>I</em> started having near-wrecks every time I drove him. It climaxed three months ago (what timing!) when Dad insisted on driving us to group therapy this time, and my husband came out and refused for me to get in the car with him anymore. It turned into a fight where Dad spewed the most hateful words against Mom I had ever heard and admitted boldly to every way he hurt me in the past. Maybe he is more gentle and maybe he tries to repair things in his own way, but I shouldn't expect that to mean he is a gentle dad now. </p>
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<p>This fight was the last time I was able to talk to him. He tried to get me to run errands for him, but I was not only too hurt by his words; I was sick. I couldn't eat. I couldn't stay awake. It was about three months before the diagnosis, and my energy dropped to an all-time low. I could get through a day, but I would curl up and sleep the moment I got home. I thought Dad had placed too much stress for me to bear, and I had to rest for a long time to recover. Months passed, and I didn't recover, but I still blamed the grief and the fight. </p>
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<p>Also during this time, he was getting in wrecks or near-wrecks as often as he was getting in a car. Some of them were severe for the other drivers, so I took over as his personal Uber out of concern. He wasn't on drugs or anything, he is just the most anxious person on earth. I didn't help, though. He would scream randomly and backseat drive to the point even I started having near-wrecks. The drama climaxed three months ago (what timing!) when Dad insisted on taking a turn driving us to group therapy, and my husband came out and refused for me to get in the car with him anymore. It turned into an embarrassing yard fight where Dad spewed the most hateful words against Mom I had ever heard and blatantly confessed to all the times he's hurt Mom and me, despite his gaslighting. It was shocking. I thought he had changed, but he had never seemed more hateful to me than in that moment. Maybe he is more gentle and maybe he tries to repair things in his own way, but he is still Dad. </p>
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<p>This fight was the last time I was able to talk to him. He tried to get me to continue running errands for him, but I was not only too hurt by his words to take calls; I was sick. I couldn't eat. I couldn't stay awake. It was about three months before the diagnosis, and my energy dropped to an all-time low. I could get through a day, but I would curl up and sleep the moment I got home. I thought Dad had placed too much stress for me to bear, and I had to rest for a long time to recover. Months passed, and I didn't recover, but I still blamed the grief and the fight. </p>
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<h2>it's just pneumonia </h2>
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<p>This entire time, I still had the cough. My husband kept having issues of his own, though, so I would delay any care for myself for his sake. The most extreme was Bell's palsy, which seems an awful lot like a stroke in the moment. Finally, my husband told me to go to the doctor <em>today</em>. Chest x-rays revealed fluid in my lungs, and my doctor called me with urgency in her voice to go to the ER ASAP. Doctors, illness, medicine, (and cancer) is my ultimate phobia, so hearing an emotional doctor like that got my heart pumping. However, when I got to the ER, the doctor massively downplayed the fluid, insisting there was barely any. But he insisted my symptoms didn't line up and ran test after test. God bless him for being thorough because he could have sent me home with antibiotics, but he somehow found the masses on my liver and free-floating in my caking based on a chest x-ray and a hunch. It wasn't long until I was formally diagnosed with colon cancer in November 2023. They said I probably have had it for 2 years. </p>
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<p>This entire time, I still had the cough. My husband kept having issues of his own, though, so I would delay any care for myself for his sake. The most extreme was Bell's palsy, which seems an awful lot like a stroke in the moment. Finally, my husband told me to go to the doctor <em>today</em>. Chest x-rays revealed fluid in my lungs, and my doctor called me with urgency in her voice to go to the ER ASAP. Doctors, illness, medicine, (and cancer) is my ultimate phobia, so hearing an emotional doctor like that got my heart pumping. However, when I got to the ER, the doctor massively downplayed the fluid, insisting there was barely any. But he was concerned that my symptoms didn't line up and ran test after test. God bless him for being thorough because he could have sent me home with antibiotics, but he somehow found the masses on my liver and free-floating in my caking based on a chest x-ray and a hunch. It wasn't long until I was formally diagnosed with colon cancer in November 2023. They said I probably have had it for 2 years. </p>
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<h2>it's just cancer </h2>
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<p>My grandmother died from cancer. My mom recently died from cancer. My aunt very recently overcame cancer. It seems like every woman on my mom's side gets cancer, so what hope is there for me? When I was told I have masses, it might as well have been a formal diagnosis. Dad, being the most anxious and overbearing person on earth, has been consistently telling me I will get cancer next and to get tested immediately, so I actually even went to a cancer clinic in January. Ironically, the most they were willing to do was a genetic test and told me to come back for screening when I am middle-aged - when I very likely had cancer right then at the age of 28! Regardless, the paranoia was firmly planted in my head. Every time I had a weird pain in my belly, I got the dull fear it was cancer. It's not like I took the thought that seriously, but it certainly lingered in my mind. It was like this meme that was floating around at the time, but...the painful spots actually were the masses. Again, kinda ironic. </p>
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<p>My grandmother died from cancer. My mom recently died from cancer. My aunt very recently overcame cancer. It seems like every woman on my mom's side gets cancer, so what hope is there for me? When I was told I have masses, it might as well have been a formal diagnosis. Dad, being the most anxious and overbearing person on earth, called me over and over telling me I will get cancer next and to get tested immediately, so I actually even went to a cancer clinic in January. Ironically, the most they were willing to do was a genetic test and told me to come back for screening when I am middle-aged - when I very likely had cancer right then at the age of 28! Regardless, the paranoia was firmly planted in my head. Every time I had a weird pain in my belly, I got the dull fear it was cancer. It's not like I took the thought that seriously, but it certainly lingered in my mind. It was like this meme that was floating around at the time, but...the painful spots actually were the masses. Again, kinda ironic. </p>
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<img src="/static/img/ent/fuckingdiedisease.jpg" alt="(Meme: I'm Gonna Fucking Die Disease. Symptoms: Tummy hurts a bit too much for a bit too long.)"> <br>
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<p>So I was primed and suddenly confronted with my capital phobia. I was a wreck, right? Strangely, no. </p>
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<p>So I was primed for the worst news and suddenly confronted with my capital phobia. I was a wreck, right? Strangely, no. </p>
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<p>My pastor had recently given sermons on how Christians ought to rejoice in tribulations as opportunities for spiritual growth. I had read some James and 1 Peter, too, which only reinforce the glory of tribulation. I honestly scoffed that I could ever be that Christian, especially in the context of cancer. It seemed impossible to praise God and thank Him for the day if <em>that</em> ever happened. But of course I don't want to be out of alignment with Scripture, so I prayed for God to search my heart and change it. And He sure flipped my perspective upside-down. </p>
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<p>I was calm when they found the masses. The Bible already explains why very obviously. Unlike the prolonged fool's mission of healing all my dad's problems, God has obviously placed me square in the middle of cancer for a reason, and if He puts you somewhere, He provides everything you need. He gives me the strength, He gives me the peace, and He gives me countless reasons to praise Him day-in and day-out. Obviously I cannot go through tribulations on my own. But if they are God-given and intended for spiritual growth, God will be and has been with me every step of the way. When you are with God, there is nothing to fear. Jesus' yoke is easy, and His burden is light. </p>
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<p>I was calm when they found the masses. The Bible already explains why very obviously. Unlike the prolonged fool's mission of healing all my dad's problems, God has obviously placed me square in the middle of cancer for a reason, and if He puts you somewhere, He provides everything you need. He gives me the strength, He gives me the peace, and He gives me countless reasons to praise Him day-in and day-out. Undoubtedly it's impossible to go through tribulations on my own. But if they are God-given and intended for spiritual growth, God will be and has been with me every step of the way. When you are with God, there is nothing to fear. Jesus' yoke is easy, and His burden is light. </p>
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<p>So maybe these weird symptoms weren't from grief, pulled muscles, stress, or pneumonia, which would all be vastly preferable. But cancer isn't so different, knowing God holds the reins and will never leave my side. I really never thought I could say something like this, but... </p>
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<p>I have cancer - praise God!</p>
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