Varying Degrees of Discomfort

One month into officially finding out I have colon cancer – it’s been a trip.

Also, to make sure we’re all on the same page: your colon has much to do with your bowel movement – your shit, your dumpage, if you will.

[If you want to know more about it, you can send me a message or use your tools maybe and Google. (I don’t want to have to go into those details here. They’re not exactly pleasant.)]

I don’t know how. I don’t know why, but for some reason, while I was in the hospital, the thing that would wake me up was the dumpage. It’s become a fixed body sched now.

This said first order of business royal dumpage would then determine how my energy is for the day. Whether I’d be glowing and up for anything (kidding, this doesn’t happen to me with or without cancer – I’m far too lazy as a human being) or lethargic and feeling the need to commit arson but too lethargic and lazy to do so.

That’s how I start my day. Lovely, isn’t it?

All the symptoms that the doctors asked me about before I had the colonoscopy are now very much present. They weren’t, prior to all this. They’ve been sneaky. Hence, me not realising what I had.

My boss asked me a while back if I was in pain.

I wouldn’t say this is pain. I mean, I know pain (hello, intense monthly period cramps for a whole week without taking any medication for it!!! Where my bleeding people at????).

What I am experiencing isn’t exactly pain. It’s more like varying degrees of discomfort.

There are two things that bother me daily:

First, there’s this gnawing feeling all over my back that feels as if there’s acid running around and culminates in my lower back. It’s similar to having a really heavy flow while you’re having your period and your lower back feels… heavy.

[I have now officially experienced this WHILE having my period and I don’t know what to say except, yes, I want to commit arson. Yes, I am lazy. Yes, I have a lot of anger.]

Second, there’s a stinging and / or tearing feeling in parts of my stomach.

Now, these two aren’t always ‘on intensely’, but when they want to be noticed, I can’t really do anything. I need to either sit or lie down and wait for the discomfort to pass. [Again, extra magical during that time of the month.]

Oh, wait! There’s a third one: soft food diet.

Look, I grew up a fat kid who got to eat whatever, whenever. Food and I have always been tight and food has always brought me happiness. My relationship with food may not have been healthy but we made it work.

Then, imagine, if you will:

You are feeling thoroughly unwell. You’d had to fast for hours so they could run tests on you. You’d just realised what you have is cancer.

You turn to look at your food tray for some semblance of hope…

… And it’s soup.

The realisation of how much happiness and energy food can give hit me while I was in the hospital.

I know. I know. It’s such a spoiled brat problem to have, I’ll admit that. I know I shouldn’t complain but, damn it, it’s tough. It makes everything feel extra bleak.

This past month, I realised – even more – what a warrior my father was. I witnessed him go through advanced stages of this disease but he never showed us how uncomfortable he was.

We all knew he was in pain but we never saw it… He was being… Dad.

On top of all this, I can feel it spreading, this cancer.

I can feel it taking over parts of my stomach which were previously fine. I’m feeling new aches and pains.

I can feel it taking a toll on me – not only physically, but also – mentally and emotionally. I’ve had days where I’ve genuinely felt so beat tears were so extra easy to come by (and if you know me, you know that’s saying something).

There moments at night when all is quiet – there’s nothing to distract me from anything – and all the discomfort I’ve ignored all day comes through and I feel all of it.

I’ve had days where I’ve felt genuine fear over how I’ll overcome this.

Yes, you read that right. This Kerly – stubborn, sarcastic, dark humoured, will laugh at serious moments Kerly – is scared now.

Somehow, I wasn’t before, but I am now.

It’s only been a month.