The day after my all day appointment at the Cancer Center I was feeling better, the best I had felt since I found out I was a card carrying member of the Cancer Club. That morning I had an impromptu phone interview for a job, hung out with my mom, and had a lovely dinner celebrating a friend's birthday. Things were looking up, I was happy.
It's weird how quickly things can change these days. I accidentally felt my tumor and immediately freaked out. Laughing and crying at the same time I was convinced it had doubled in size since the day before, when the surgeon had looked at it. I mean, I had, after all, been feeding my hungry tumor with birth control pills for countless years. Every night at 7pm sharp it would yell, "Feed me, Megan. Feed me!" Without fail, I would listen and feed it. Given its voracious appetite, it had to have grown! I had never been so aware of my emotions and the lack of my ability to control them. I was laughing at myself crying and scared to death all at once.
Fast forward to a week later. I was having another good day. It was beautiful outside and I was getting ready to go to a friend's place for dinner. As is standard procedure, I took a shower. I was leisurely drying off when I heard someone running up the stairs. BAM! The bathroom door swung open. Through the magic of mirrors, I made eye contact with my roommate's mom - rather I made contact with her eyes. Her eyes, perhaps, were on my exposed boobs (was she was trying to catch one last sneak peak at Leftie before it went under the knife?). We both screamed. And just like that I was in another downward spiral of trying to keep my composure, all the while wanting to scream in disbelief. The door was, indeed, closed. Who opens a closed bathroom door? For the second time within a week I was aware of how short my fuse was and how easily I could, unfortunately, fall into tears. Cancer is the worst sometimes. Well, if I'm being honest, cancer or not, uninvited bathroom intruders are also the worst.
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