Today Is The Day

Today is surgery, round two. Actually round four, if you include the two surgeries in 1993 for cervical cancer. Before I write, I want to take you back to shortly after I found out.

I think it's weird that I don't know the date I found out. I know it was a Friday, and I know it was 10:23 when the phone rang. Calculating back the days, it was May 4th. In Jayne's birth month. Last time, it was in RJ's.

Stupid coincidences.

There are so many of them, only last time I was scared and this time I'm just pissed off. The anger is tremendous — more like rage — and I feel wicked because all I think is how unfair that's it me and not him. Why always me? Just like before, there is no empathy, no compassion, no understanding.

I have not yet made up my mind as to treatment. I'm tired of others telling me I must do this or that. There are things I have yet to experience, and I'm not certain if I'm ready or able to let them take away another part, such an essential part of me, a woman, before I know — before I feel — love again.

Like before, the anger inside is building, but I have found a way to channel it. I'm purging. Drawers, cabinets, shelves — nothing is safe. Things that are serving no purpose or have no meaning are being tossed. Dust is cleared and I'm preparing for change. I'm studying things carefully and making my decisions wisely and rationally. My movements are slow, but methodical and precise. And I'm making these choices on my own.

I have chosen surgery. The Dick wasn't home when that first call came in — he didn't return for almost two weeks. The night of the first surgery, he brought me to my mom's house, dropped me off and left to God only knows where. A few days later the big "I need a new life" speech.

In 1993, I wrote a very similar essay. I came across it in a bundle of old college papers during the purge. I cried and laughed at the similarities. Oh, it makes sense all right. Too bad it took me so long to see them.