Clareified

Where does the good go

Lumpy with a chance of cancer

“It’s probably nothing,” she says washing her hands. I close the flimsy paper gown and involuntarily begin to swing my legs against the exam table.
“At your age, many women develop these kinds of lumps in their breasts and the vast percentage of the time, it’s nothing. Don’t worry.”
Of course, the problem with the phrase “it’s nothing,” is the it, right?
Nothing is nothing.
Nothing’s not an it and nothing is certainly not a thumb sized breast lump.
Furthermore, the problem with her telling me not to worry is that the last time she patted me on the back and said “wow, you’re in the best shape I’ve ever seen you,” I ended up doubled over in pain at an emergency room in Harlem, spiking a 102 degree fever while I waited for someone to suck my gall bladder out through my belly button.
Credibility? Shot!
Truth is, I probably should have come in weeks ago, closer to when I discovered the nothing. But I figured if it was nothing, it’d go away and actually be nothing.
I would live my life! Lump be damned!
And then my poker skills, such as they were, distintegrated to disasterous financial results. The associate position that everyone thought I’d be perfect for fell through because the Hiring Partner really wanted someone with strong writing skills! “Me fail, English? That’s unpossible.”
Then the car, the laptop, the earring and now we’re all caught up.
The universe and my mother’s incessant yelling would most definitely NOT let me get on with the business of living. So, here we are at that first step towards the business of dying.
Honestly, I never thought I’d live past 33. I was a teenage Catholic evangelist, like super serious two masses a week, bible studying, teaching cathecism to the youth and attending international Catholic youth gatherings teenage Catholic evangelist. An only child, with an absent father, born to a woman who was by all accounts infertile? I didn’t have a martyr complex; I had THE martyr complex.
When they wouldn’t let me on the altar the Easter Sunday that the Bishop was visiting our church, because I was a girl, oh, the struggle not to shout “this is my father’s house!”
You have issues, you have issues.
So, when I got super sick at 32, I wasn’t at all surprised.
I knew it!
I got better, but I still tread carefully. One more year.
And then bam, Carlos the ticking time bomb! But they caught it…I was…um…fine.
2009.
The year I did ordinary things and lived an ordinary life. The year I planned things and splurged on stuff. The year nothing was cut out of me! Ah, 2009, if you hadn’t taken Michael Jackson, we could’ve had something real special.
But in my wildest dreams I never imagined I’d go out like this. Not that I wanted any fatal condition, but couldn’t it be something more manly? Like roid rage or a presidential affliction? Like GSW to the head? Heck, even cruxifiction is an oldie, but a goodie. I watch football, and play poker, I smoke cigars and drink whiskey for breakfast!
Breast cancer? The damn hell ass pink ribbon disease!
PINK!
And not even awesome neon Liberace sneakers pink, POWDER.
POW. DER.
Never mind the weeks ahead of lady doctors talking about lady parts and lady issues. Waiting rooms filled with other women (okay, and that really hella unlucky dude that represents the 1% of male breast cancer victims.) talking about their lumps and tumors and reproductive options.
I may survive the cancer or whatever it is, but I’m pretty sure the blood loss from ripping my own ears off might get me.
Ah, a noble Van Gogh death.
I smile. The doctor hands me precriptions for various “gram” tests.
She hands me referrals to two breast doctors and says I should check what their hours are.
Breast doctor? That just sounds made up. Like a pickup line in a horrible Vince Vaughn comedy.
I decide against voicing this opinion aloud.
She says that the nothing will likely have to be removed, but they’d wait to find out the full extent of what we’re dealing with before scheduling any surgery, so everything can be handled at once.
Hmm. From nothing to everything… that was quick.
Eh, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. It doesn’t have to be cancer. Could just be lumpy boobs, which aside from possibly being the worst poker nickname ever, might not be so bad.
A few corrective surgeries and I could have a whole new set! Not for nothing, but if it gets me the career she’s had, I’m getting the ones Jennifer Love Hewitt got!
Or maybe Britney’s.
Ooh, could I get fitted with semi automatic weapons like the Austin Powers’ bots?
I wonder if there’s a catalogue.
The doctor is staring at me now.
Uh oh, she probably asked me something really important and I’m mentally picking out boobs.
“Well, Dawn? Do you have any questions? What are you thinking?”
Me?
Nothing. Definitely, nothing.

29 Responses to “Lumpy with a chance of cancer”

  1. elana Says:

    There was just an article in the paper by a 33 year old woman went through the tit tests of the world and in the end she ended up hyper-aware of her boobs and diagnosed as having wasted tons of time, also money, enduring endless anxiety and having incredibly lumpy boobs.

    You too.

  2. Pdov Says:

    Really Dawn?! Seriously? Okay, we need a fucking happy intervention of some kind. Also, I have the cancer card you cannot take that away from me. It’s mine, I mean for a while I had the whole immigrant/dad dying young thing but then the Cancer card came calling and it was awesome(NOT). And you are right the worst part about the cancer is when you get chemo and you have to deal with all the other people who are getting chemo. It’s horrible. Anyhoo, if you get cancer I’m sure you won’t have to talk about those people since a) you will probably be watching movies on your laptop b)listening to music c) talking to your friends d) blogging.
    Um, I’m going to email the rest of this message now.

  3. lightning36 Says:

    One day at a time and focusing on what is real might help. gl

  4. April Says:

    It probably is nothing, but if it’s not, we’ll get through it.

  5. Grange95 Says:

    Tough spot, and sorry you are going through this uber-stressful situation. Best wishes for a negative test, and if not, even better wishes for a life #rungood. You got the Iowa fags rooting for ya!

  6. Jake Says:

    What is your Vitamin D level?

    A recent study showed that women with optimum Vitamin D levels have 80% less chance of getting breast cancer than women with low levels. The lead researcher on the project said there is no reason for any woman to get breast cancer if she keeps your Vitamin D level at an optimum level.

    Mrs Jake used to be called back almost every year for some suspicious spot on her mammogram-all benign. That is until she got her Vitamin D level up. She has not been called back since.

    I am a expert on this. Use my knowledge.

  7. Michael Bates Says:

    Missed a job because of a “strong writing skills” requirement? Do you make a point of veiling your glory from potential employers?

    We’ll pray that it really is probably nothing, which it probably is.

  8. Jamie Says:

    You’re too evil for that lump to be anything that would harm you. You don’t get cancer, you give it!

  9. Consigliere Says:

    You are in my prayers.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uLtyzRgmyI

  10. Alceste Says:

    I’d like to propose a motion to end 2010 as of tomorrow. Let 2011 begin.

    Hope you are doing all right and good luck with the tests.

  11. Angela Says:

    I second Alceste’s motion.

    Here’s hoping for lumpy boobs.

  12. Mary Says:

    I went through the same thing last December. As Mr Petty sings, the waiting is the hardest part. The human mind does its best to make you believe the absolute worst.

    I’m keeping my fingers crossed that everything turns out all right!

  13. Riggs Says:

    Mrs. Riggs went through this recently. Turned out lumpy was the diagnosis. I know the waiting can be shit, but know that the virtual world is thinking all good thoughts.

    I’m giving the evil eye to the good lord as well. He fears me. Trust me. He FEARS me! (catholic school refuge)

    Oh and I have Mets Phils tickets again this year. Clear your calendar and be ready to have a slushy thrown on you, have it video’d, uploaded to you tube, and titled, “Mets fan with lumpy breasts owned at Citizens Bank Park” :)

  14. Ugarles Says:

    Listen up, people. It is great that there are 14 comments on this post (now) but there are still very few over at Dawn’s 554th blog. You know what you have to do.

  15. kaz Says:

    so many positive thoughts headed your way!

  16. Rebecca Says:

    This is ridiculous and not allowed.
    Also, I have lumpy breasts and every year I have to go for ultrasounds to make sure that the lumps are just plan ol’ lumps. So I’ve been there. Sucks ballz.

  17. F-Train Says:

    The only way Dawn is going to get more Vitamin D is if they start enriching cupcakes with it.

    When the doctors say “it’s probably nothing” it’s because they see this kind of thing all the time. I realize that’s little consolation in your present situation but remember — nothing good ever comes from dwelling on the negative. You’ll deal with whatever it is once you get the diagnosis but until then you just have to keep living your life.

    Which, if I understand correctly, mainly consists of social media, cupcakes and the wrath of 2010.

  18. Pi Says:

    I vote Scarlett Johansson.

  19. Dawn Says:

    Aww, where’d I find all you people? You’re priceless! By which I mean, you will fetch a tidy sum on the ebay as I start to auction you off to pay for stuff. :)

  20. BWoP Says:

    I am sending lots of happy thoughts your way.

    #getLumpytoVegas

  21. Gerard Says:

    I probably won’t command that much, but it’s worth a shot.

    :0)

    Good luck, C.

    -good times, G.

  22. CGHill Says:

    I’ll never again be able to look at someone’s rack the same way.

    #likeshecareswhatithink

    #althoughilearnedsomuchfromher

  23. John Hartness Says:

    As a boob expert, and as someone who lifted you up as recently as December, thus mashing your boobs into my chest involuntarily (on your part, completely voluntarily on mine) and subjecting you to as thorough an exam as can possibly be performed platonically in front of 100 witnesses in the Caesar’s poker room, I can say that it’s going to be nothing and we’ll soon be taking up a collection to get you a Pats jersey with #72 and “Lumpy” on the back.

    Keep us posted, doll. We’re thinking about you.

  24. Rebecca Says:

    I feel like this website will give you plenty to consider, take your mind off your immediate problems and also make you love me.
    http://www.ifmurdered.com

    Thereby achieving all of my life goals at once.

  25. Pearatty Says:

    We’re thinking of you lots over here. Especially Wygant, who is definitely a boobs man. His assessment is probably just lumpy.

  26. Pearatty Says:

    And did you know that there’s a new theory that it was Gaugin who cut off Van Gogh’s ear?

  27. Pdov Says:

    Pearatty I heard that too. Gaugin was a total dick apparently.

  28. Dawn Summers Says:

    Rebecca, that website is simply put: AWESOME

  29. Clareified » Blog Archive » You live, you learn Says:

    […] February of last year, I had a thing that the doctor said was benign. I took this to be the happy end of an […]

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