The Hellhole

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Er...um...ah...I've gone back and forth about whether to post about this, and how much to post and what to write, but in the end I decided that this is my blog about me, and that includes the bad and the ugly, so - here it is. Back at the beginning of December I wrote that I'd had an examination of my Lady Parts, something I expected to be rote, a mere hurdle en route to the mammogram I'd promised my husband that I'd have. Not so, as it happens. The results of that exam came back surprisingly terrible. I have severe squamous cell dysplasia with carcinoma in situ - in other words, the most baddest worst extremely awful thing I could have without actually having full-blown cancer.

Not the greatest day of my life, to be honest. I have an appointment on Friday to discuss treatment options.

So. That's what I've been dealing with for the last 4 days or so, and the results of the mammogram aren't even back yet. Yay.

But even from the pit of despair comes great hilarity, and yesterday morning I woke myself up, laughing so hard from a dream. It may not be that funny to an outside observer, but I was rolling in our bed laughing, and got Alan laughing so hard he nearly blew Pelligrino out his nose, so here it is.

This part is true: occasionally our tiny little Chihuahua, Mister Fusspot, will bark and bark and bark at something that neither of us, nor our other dog, nor the cat, sees or hears. Not surprising when one has ears the size of salad plates...anyway, Fusspot will fixate upon something invisible to the rest of us, glare at it and raise a vociferous puppy ruckus, while the two humans and the other animals look at him like, "Dude??? What the hell???"

That is how my dream began, with Mister Fusspot outraged and barking, waking us from a sound sleep. We had a brief conversation, like "No, I think I really heard something!", "Hey, maybe we ought to check 'cause I actually heard something this time--" So in my dream, Alan and I got up and patrolled the house. Once out in the garage, he looked out at his car parked in our driveway and got totally, completely pissed.

In my dream, and I have no idea what put such a thing in my head, his little blue sedan was COVERED, completely covered, in lobsters. Someone had lobsterfied his Saturn. They weren't dumped in a careless truckload, but rather regimented rows of lobsters, spaced precisely fore-and-aft and back-to-front, marched from one end of Alan's car to the other. He was most highly pissed. This made dream-me laugh, and I was cracking up while Alan was totally ticked - it was one of those things where one fed the other, and the more I laughed, the angrier he got, but the more irked he was, the funnier I found the situation. I begged him to allow me to take a picture of his lobster-encrusted vehicle, adding what great blog-fodder it would be, and he grudgingly agreed so I headed inside to get our camera.

When I got back, though, I was angry because Alan had gone outside and started divesting his car of lobsters. In my dream, he was stomping around our driveway in nothing but his plaid boxer shorts, wielding a wide push-broom I use for sweeping out the garage, and bitching, "I've been lob-rolled! What are you laughing about?!? It's fine for YOU, your car isn't covered in freaking lobsters!"

"God damn it, Alan!" I shrieked. "This would have been my funniest blog entry of the year, but I have to have the picture because otherwise it's just me being weird. But if I could post the picture with all the lobsters all over your car, THAT'S funny!!!"

Alan is stomping all around his car, sweeping off lobsters with the broom and griping, "I don't care how funny your stupid blog might be, there are smelly stinky lobsters ON MY CAR, and you can just quit laughing, it's fine for you, YOU didn't get LOB rolled!!!"

I laughed so much I woke myself up, and all day today my husband has been sighing heavily and saying, "I got LOB-ROLLED!" Or at quiet moments, when all my dreaming inanity has been forgotten, I poke him and say, "Dude! You got lob-rolled!"

14 Comments:

  • Yikes - that sounds worrying. When do you start treatment?

    By Blogger neil h, at 8:19 AM  

  • I'm with Neil - keep us updated! Hugs from the blogoshpere!

    On a side note, I feel like Mr. Fusspot and I would be great friends :)

    By Blogger A Margarita, at 9:55 AM  

  • I will know more about next steps when I have my appointment on Friday. In the meantime, 4.5 days to fret and worry.

    By Blogger Helly, at 12:33 PM  

  • Clearly the universe is still not listening to me in 2009 or you wouldn't have to deal with your troubling news since all my blog friends would be free from any seriously troubling news.

    Hugs to you and thanks for reporting your dream. I wonder what those dream books say about the symbolism of a lobster....But sometimes a lobster is just a lobster....although I see some connection between a certain symbol for an astrological sign and what is on your mind lately....

    By Blogger basil, at 1:41 PM  

  • Aw crap, Helly. Bleah. I hope that if you have to have an operation that you won't have to have chemo or radiation. I still feel fortunate that I missed out on the latter two - something my neighber who is my age is going through right now.

    And if you do have an operation - I pollyanna-ed it by pretending it was an extended vacation with drugs included.

    By Blogger Topcat, at 2:44 PM  

  • I wish that the first part of your post was the dream sequence and the lob-rolling was the real part.

    Hopefully, it won't turn out to be as serious as it sounds right now.

    Afton

    By Blogger Still Trying, at 3:17 PM  

  • Darling Helly;

    Fortunately, you caught it in-situ, which is THE best situation given that you already have squamous cell dysplasia. They will take it all out, analise it, and then find that they've taken it all out. Probably, just to make sure, they might radiate locally - which is the motherfuckingbitchiest of it all if it's as, erm, personalised, as it was for me, but it is SO going to be OK.

    Believe me. I had micro-invasive carcinoma due to the same thing, and besides it being a story to tell that is sometimes funny if people have the right sense of humour - some people JUST DON'T GET THAT IT'S FUNNY -, it is a nothing thing now. It's been nearly ten years.

    By OpenID mariarocio, at 4:02 PM  

  • I wish I could propel you into the future when the whole medical ordeal has turned into that funny story. I'm glad you got comforting words from Maria. And Sandy too - vacation with drugs!

    I think the dream story is even funnier knowing of Alan's aversion to all things seafood.

    By Blogger Nancy, at 7:20 PM  

  • Consider yourself Lob-rolled...

    We’re no strangers to prawn
    You crack the claws and so do I
    A full crustacean’s what I’m thinking of
    You wouldn’t get this from anything fried

    I just want to tell you what we’re eating
    Gotta make you understand

    Lobster, gonna eat you up
    Lobster gonna choke you down
    Lobster gonna pick you out and nom you
    Lobster gonna make you cry
    Lobster gonna say goodbye
    Lobster gonna broil you up and serve you

    We’ve been drawing butter for so long
    Your tummy’s aching
    But you’re too shy to say it
    Inside we both know that you’re picking me
    Out of the tank and you gonna eat it

    And if you ask me if I’m hungry
    Tell me red lobster’s good to eat

    Lobster, gonna eat you up
    Lobster gonna choke you down
    Lobster gonna pick you out and nom you
    Lobster gonna make you cry
    Lobster gonna say goodbye
    Lobster gonna broil you up and serve you

    On yer car. On yer car
    On yer car, On yer car
    Never take em off
    Never take em off, take em off
    Never take em off
    Never take em off, take em off

    I just wanna tell you what we’re eating
    Gotta make you understand

    Matt wanted me to tell you Tammy's been through this, so if you wanted to talk to her, she'd be happy to. Sarah and I have done a ton of reading about this, and I agree with Maria...you're SO going to be OK...

    -Nom Nom Nom, from Bo and Sarah

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 12:12 AM  

  • Well, now that sucks. However, after looking it up, it does look good, as in good that they're very successful at treating it. If you're lucky (some people may not see things the way I do, so YMMV), you'll get to have a hysterectomy and no longer be cursed with, what is known around these parts as "Harriet" - what I have right now, plus the joy of cramps. I hate Harriet, especially now that I'm getting older and she decides to visit whenever the heck she feels like it, instead of every 28 days, like when I was young and spry.

    Oh, and by the way, Leigh-Ann's hysterectomy went swimmingly and she only spent one night at the hospital (she didn't want to, and we got her home by noon the next day), and we had her at Starbucks within days.

    I'm one of those silver lining finders when it comes to medical stuff. If you're gonna get stuck with something crappy, at least it's very treatable crappy. I'll let you know which pain meds are the best (and which methods are best when dealing with the side effects of the best meds), should you end up having surgery.

    If you want to read up on anything, the HysterSisters.com website has lots of info, whether or not you're having a hysterectomy. They have pros, cons, discussion, medical info, testimonials, and a few, uh, annoying people, just like most large message boards. ;) However, the good outweighs the bad, so whatever is thrown at your lady parts, someone there will have had experience with it. Leigh-Ann & I spent a good deal of time there just before her surgery and right after, so we would know what to expect.

    I'll keep my legs crossed for the easiest and most pain-free resolution for your diagnosis. As for the mammo, we'll keep those crossed too. It's sad, I think that I'm getting close to the point where I actually CAN cross them, and then tie a pretty bow. From the tiniest of problems to the largest of problems, we've had people close to us diagnosed with those and everything in between.

    Plus, someone in this room just said to tell you that her doctor, who was doing a study on lumpy breasts said that hers' were "the lumpiest she's ever felt"...so, if you want to feel more comfortable talking about stuff, we can give you lady part ammo for all of us, for show & tell or compare 'n' contrast.

    As for Alan's hatred of seafood - that's just crazy, man, crazy. Should he ever get lob-rolled, I'll come over quickly to clean up. Squid-rolled would be even more awesome. Yum!

    By Anonymous Flippy, at 12:13 AM  

  • .....I am SO tempted to Photoshop a picture of a car that's been lob-rolled. What a fucked up dream.

    I hope things improve for you rapidly! Keep us posted on the doctors' findings.

    cheers,
    Phil

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 2:04 PM  

  • Only you could wrap scary news in such a funny post.

    I'll be thinking of you and sending hugggggggggs your way. XOXO

    By Blogger kristal, at 9:44 AM  

  • Did you see the "Lobsters On A Car" video that Kristal has on her sidebar?? It freaked me out.

    By Blogger Nancy, at 9:26 PM  

  • First, you know I'm here any time to listen!

    Next, DUDE!!! That dream is hysterical! You totally win hands-down for craziest funny dream of 09! :)

    PS. As I was typing this, I heard in the background "HEY! I'm peeing blood again. Fantastic." GAH. Just had to share.

    By Blogger Z, at 8:41 PM  

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