Cancer.

Cancer.  Six little letters that when arranged in a certain order fill me with hate.  I hate cancer (not that I think many people like it).  I watched my dad battle it like hell when I was in high school and watched what it did to him.  It's awful and terrible. 

Throughout all of this, I have felt sort of in a grey area.  I've had people ask, did/do you have cancer and I always answer "no."  But my tumor was borderline, and aggressive enough that I had to have a mastectomy.  It wasn't completely benign, but also wasn't completely malignant.  But, I liked to live in the lollipops and unicorns world of "No."

Well... the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Kods went with me for my preop labs.  Something happened during that appointment that I don't think I will soon forget.  After waiting for HOURS to be called back, I went back for the standard tests - weight, height, bp etc.  While watching the woman type in my numbers in the computer, there it was in black and white all caps, under diagnosis - CANCER. 

I almost threw up all over her.  I was numb and quite honestly do not remember most of the remaining portions of the appointment. 

Cancer.  On my medical history. In black and white.  I am logical enough to realize that it was definitely a possibility, and that the appropriate steps were taken, but I still have odd and confused feelings about seeing it on that screen.

I make plans to shelve it for now and will make plans to discuss it with my Oncologist at my 6 month appointment in January.

Until then, Cancer - I still hate you.