Why Chocolate Should Always Be Available In My House (Cookies Will Have to Do)
You know that crazy healthy eating thing I was going to start today? Well it has to wait until tomorrow. I need to stuff my anxiety with something sinfully delicious right now and there’s not a damn thing besides fucking cinnamon graham crackers in my house. That’s not gonna be enough. And Andy is out with the car, so I can’t even got get a pint of gelato or a bag of fun-size peanut butter snickers. I might as well just dip my fingers in some jam and gnaw the flesh off.
Why so stressed you wonder? I just read the results of my CT scan online. Apparently they put that shit up there in my online health record. At least it’s not pictures. It confirms I am fat, but it also throws out the size of the “little” mass they are watching in the vast nothingness where my uterus once was. Apparently, it the size of ostrich egg. Litte? It’s 7.7 x 8.4 x 8.7 cm. So now, panic sets in. It is 30+ days to my next oncology visit. “Little” my ass. This thing is the size of box turtle. So now I wait. FML.
Why couldn’t they put the previous CT scan up there too? At least I’d know if this thing has grown. But no, just tell me you compared it to the last one, and leave it at that. Damn you, information!
I’m off to try and drown my sorrow by eating a bag of brown sugar. This is all that stupid hawk’s fault. I should have stopped the car and bludgeoned it to death with a rock.
PS. Mammogram and chest xray were okay. I still have boobs and a heart. Yay for that!