I cannot write when there is chaos.
There is chaos here.
There is chaos in my house. In my mind. In my body.
There is chaos here.
My chaos is catstir.
There, I said it.
Because I was immediately bombarded with google images and advertisements relating to the "C" word, I have incognito-ed it.
I won't know if I have catstir until wednesday.
I have a degrading biopsy on Monday and then I wait 48 hours for the results.
Even without knowing, catstir has caused chaos in my house. In my mind. In my body.
I've been walking around trying to act like everything is fine. But it's not.
I don't want to think the worst. I want to focus on the best. But the dark unknown scares the shit out of me. And I know that bad things can happen to me. To all of us.
The graph above summarized the results found when a breast catstir cell is compared with that of a normal cell. The round, outer ring shows the 23 chromosomes of the human genome. The blue lines in the third ring, shows internal rearrangement. The red lines in the bull's eye, designates switches of DNA from one chromosome to another.
There is chaos in catstir cells.
This chaos disrupts a gene called RAD51C which is involved in mending serious chromosome breaks, those in which both strands in the DNA are disrupted. The impairment of double strand break repair could be a major cause of all the other rearrangement (according to research led by Oliver A. Hampton and Aleksandar Milosavljevic at the Baylor College of Medicine in Houston).
In other words, the chaos in my DNA needs to calm the fuck down.
I now talk to my RAD51C gene on a regular basis. I envision RAD51C as a powerful pink, commanding, all knowing force.
"calm those crazy fuckers down RAD51C.... do it, do it now..."
Already, I'm faced with choices and I want to make the best possible choice for ME.
Do I go with a standard biopsy that will leave me disfigured OR do I go with a biopsy that is degrading (in the world according to Shannon), but has minimal scaring and is considered in catstir circles to be a less invasive and ALMOST as effective as a standard biopsy.
After many sleepless hours spent on websites and discussion boards - googling everything I could find, I am opting for a steriotactic biopsy.
In this barbaric procedure, I will be given a shot of lidocaine and then asked to lie face down on a table. The table will have a hole cut in it. My breast will dangle from this hole.
In comes the mammogram machine. The machine will pancake my breast, while I lie motionless, and the doctor inserts a needle into the tissue surrounding the micro-calcifications that have formed here.
Afterwards I am awarded an icepack and sent home to wait.
They would never, EVER, do this to testicles! I can't even find an image of it on google search. Not even a cartoon. This is the best I can come up with...
And THIS pisses me off. With all the money that goes into catstir research, all the annoying pink ribbons, and breast walks, and awareness shoved up our asses, THIS is the best they can come up with????
Why am I screaming at you?
Sorry, I guess I'm angry.
Not even a lawn jockey can lift my spirits today.
I don't want to kick the cat, or ignore the dog, and I don't want to be hypersensitive to the walk, talk, and casualness of my committed husband.
My husband is adorable but alas, he is a non-communicator (SHOCKING) so I don't get verbal stroking from him (something we writers crave). He does the best he can do. We all have limitations. He does well if I tell him what to do but I don't want to tell him what to do. Okay, if I can tell RAD51C what to do, I guess I can tell my husband what to do.
Love me if I'm sick
Love me if I lose a breast or two.
There is wisdom that comes from fear, loss, pain, and suffering.
I woke today realizing what I mean when I close to YOU dear reader with "xoMonkeyME"
XO = hug & kiss
which represents ...to me, LOVE
monkeyme = ME
Please love me.
There... I said it.
It's a vulnerable thing to admit, to write, to release.
Now that THAT is cleared up, my chaos feels calmer,
and I feel freer