Tumors are not really like babies at all

I decided today that I'm going to stop reading cancer books, unless they are focused solely on nutrition or lifestyle or parenting during a difficult time. While well-intended, nearly all of the books I've gotten aside from those seem to be a What-to-expect-when-you-find-out-you-get-cancer, and I just don't think they are going to be my jam.

I read a ton of pregnancy books when I was pregnant, especially with my oldest, when each week passed by and I'd compare the tiny being inside me to a sesame seed, then an almond, then a kiwi… until one say I thought honestly I had a cow in there. Those books were helpful, and if scary, they at least prepared me for the ten (let's be honest) month journey that would ultimately end in a healthy, adorable fruit of our loins that WE wanted and WE decided to create. A little person that would take us on the journey that WE decided we were ready for because WE thought that being parents was the right, smart next step for our family.

Swollen and tired body, stretch marks, incontinence (while sneezing only– I swear), rock-hard, milk-filled nursing breasts — sexy? No. My choice? Yes. So reading about them seemed to prepare me in a way that got me actually really excited.

Cancer books are basically the same but NONE of its my choice, I don't get a cute baby in the end and at the end of the roughly ten month journey, I might have hair, I will probably show menopausal symptoms, I will have lost body parts, and I could be burned in sensitive places, might have sores in my mouth, will probably have a broken vagina, moon face from steroids… the list seems to go on and on. BUT I MAYBE, IF I AM LUCKY, I WON'T HAVE CANCER!!! Jesus Christ. Way to make me feel ungrateful, CANCER BOOKS!!!

My alternative approach is, starting today, to read about what is in my control. Because at the end of the day, all of this is happening. I'm on the fucking bus, and goddammit, the only thing I can control how I take care of myself, how I take care of my people, and how and when I choose to show up (insert footnote: Thank you Aubin C. for showing me how to do this with grace, style, and good fashion).

Tips about packing barf bags in my purse during errands or hosting a head-shaving party with my "posse" isn't going to change the direction of the bus and it certainly won't help me get off sooner, so what's the point?

Surgery is scheduled for September 1. I am going to show up.