The scar on my head
After I finish my doing my business in the loo, I walk towards the mirror and take a glance at my reflection. While the fluorescent lighting casts a shadow on my high cheekbones, I see a white spot on my head.
"What is that white spot on my head?" I tilt my head down. It looks like a strategic bald spot, but I'm not bald; I have a full head of lush and luxurious hair.
Then it hits me: it's the tumor. The stupid tumor that I'm having removed - almost one year after my initial consultation with the doctor - is now visible on my head. It's that large. The doctors couldn't tell me if it was cancerous, or not. That doesn't help me sleep at night.
**
When I have the tumor removed, it's exactly two days after I was thrown out of J's place and onto the street. He couldn't "deal"with it. I was alone in the operating room and was emotionally (and physically) numb for and from the operation. Part of me didn't care anymore. I just wanted to close my eyes.
For several weeks, I didn't know what the prognosis was. Was it cancer? If it was, what was the next step? Fight or flight. That was another thing I had to think of while trying to move on with my life.
Fortunately, it wasn't cancer. I'm alive. Resilient. Unlike some people who can't deal with afflictions, I fought and didn't flee. But I still have a a constant reminder of that day and period in my life whenever I run a finger over the scar on my head. And it's bittersweet.
"What is that white spot on my head?" I tilt my head down. It looks like a strategic bald spot, but I'm not bald; I have a full head of lush and luxurious hair.
Then it hits me: it's the tumor. The stupid tumor that I'm having removed - almost one year after my initial consultation with the doctor - is now visible on my head. It's that large. The doctors couldn't tell me if it was cancerous, or not. That doesn't help me sleep at night.
**
When I have the tumor removed, it's exactly two days after I was thrown out of J's place and onto the street. He couldn't "deal"with it. I was alone in the operating room and was emotionally (and physically) numb for and from the operation. Part of me didn't care anymore. I just wanted to close my eyes.
For several weeks, I didn't know what the prognosis was. Was it cancer? If it was, what was the next step? Fight or flight. That was another thing I had to think of while trying to move on with my life.
Fortunately, it wasn't cancer. I'm alive. Resilient. Unlike some people who can't deal with afflictions, I fought and didn't flee. But I still have a a constant reminder of that day and period in my life whenever I run a finger over the scar on my head. And it's bittersweet.
Authored by S at 12:00 am
9 Comments:
I'm glad it wasn't anything serious. And don't take offense to this, but you are better off without this J in your life. I've been catching up on your blog and he sounds really flaky and probably wants/craves drama in his life.
Thanks for reading my blog and commenting. That really means a lot.
Wear that scar like a badge of honor. You went through something and you are still hear to talk about it. You are brave and don't ever think any less of yourself. I know all to well about physical scars. You are still a sweet and sexy man:)
I agree with Marquis. You are here and alive. You're stronger for having gone through that ordeal.
wow that's amazing, congratulations to you and glad to hear that you are doing well!! i just took part in a fundraiser event that raised over $16000 for the Canadian Cancer Society so i'm feeling good too! Cancer totally sucks.
Agree with billy here. So glad everything turned out ok health wise!
I'm happy that this turned out well for you save for the bittersweet feelings that will continue to arise.
I hope I am not too out of line but I have to ask...what kind of a person throws someone out during a time like that???? Cannot deal? What?
I aggree with Billy.
something about this whole story doesn't add up
man you survvie to a tumor in your head? impressive, I can't believe that, you know how many people survive to that kind of tumor? let me see, almost none.
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