That was yesterday. Doctor says "hmm we need an ultrasound".
So off to what should have given me more ammo for fun tonight with jokes about KY jelly in certain nether regions being wasted.
That was this morning.
Tonight I sit here trying sooooooo darned hard not to cry. We have each taken a corner of the room and the big fat white howling elephant in the room has a name that starts with "C".
Out of the blue. Out of nowhere.
A swelling in the groin = possible cancer on the kidney. 6 months ago there was nothing there. Now a 2-inch thing that looks like fairy floss - cotton candy for the Americans in the wings - is carcinoma-like.
Jeff is 44 years old.
We met on March 21, 2001 when I travelled to upstate New York to meet a friend - him.
He proposed on April 19 2001.
He moved to Melbourne to be with me in February 2002.
We got married April 19 2011 on our 10th anniversary from the first proposal.
I didn't want a relationship with a man so much younger than me. I didn't want a relationship - period! But he was persuasive.
I didn't want to lumber him with a woman 9 years older who might become infirm and need looking after. I must be psychic because 4 years after he came here I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. Not a death sentence, but a life sentence. After that I didn't want to marry him because I didn't want him to become my nursemaid. I am proud that way.
Now I sit here and I am scared to death. Not scared that I will lose my carer, but that I will lose my husband. After making him wait 10 years and not wanting to be a Mrs again - it is suddenly so precious to me.
My stomach won't settle, my heart is palpitating. I am telling myself it will turn out to just be a cyst. I am telling that to myself. But then I remember how the ultrasonographer wouldn't let him leave and then came out and told him to go straight back to the doctor, right then and there, and handed him the films and a letter.
I joke to myself that it will be a false alarm and we will laugh tomorrow and then I remember that the Doctor said the 'c' word and dialled the Urologist right then and there and booked us in for tomorrow.
I am trying to stay calm but I just can't. Kim met Jeff 10 years ago as he travelled through LAX to Melbourne. Kim's daughter is at this moment undergoing chemo. I need to talk to her but she is sleeping right now.
I need to talk to someone - anyone - who is not inside the family. I don't want to panic the family but my face won't cooperate.
This time tomorrow I sooooooo want to be saying 'phew - false alarm'. But I am so so so so very very scared right now.
One year ago, almost, I was laughing as we cut our wedding cake. I can't even remember why I was laughing now, but I was in a fit of giggles. A blushing bride at 52, never ever having believed that I could ever find joy in life after my history.
Well the bottom line is this. If it is a false alarm I will post late tomorrow night. And if it is not.......well, I'm not religious but KAT I may need some of your prayers.
Not looking for sympathy my friends - but sooooo needed to unload this somewhere. I have had a lot of friends and family succumb, I watch TV and hear all the talk. But no one EVER mentioned the mind numbing fear that makes you nauseous and incapable of rational thought while you wait for the final diagnosis.
Kimmy - NOW I REALLY know what you are going through.
Fingers, toes and eyes all crossed for tomorrow.
