Cancer is a Pretty Shitty Gift!

So since my diagnosis on April 13, I’ve been told all sorts of helpful thing– “Oh, you are SO LUCKY you had DCIS!” “WOW, you are so brave” “You know, my cancer was a gift…” For those of you who think it was a gift, I have to say, your idea of gift-giving is very warped, although it makes it much easier to buy you a present if you’d feel lucky with cancer. “You’re so lucky it wasn’t invasive…” Yes, I am, but I’m also lucky a piano didn’t fall on my head when I walked down the street, I’m lucky aliens didn’t blow up the White House in ‘Independence Day,’ and I’m lucky monkeys have not yet flown out of my butt. Cancer DOES NOT equal luck. I am UNLUCKY I got breast cancer. It sucks. I now have to make the decision if I want to have 7+ weeks of radiation and recovery and still have a risk of recurrence, or if I want to say good bye to my lovely lady lumps. And let me say, they ARE phenomenal. Is THAT lucky? Then you are one sick f@+k.

Where I AM lucky is that I had the frame of mind to ask my negligent doctor the results of my mammogram.

I AM lucky a friend just happens to be doing her residency at the cancer center and hooked me in with the right people.

I AM lucky I have a talented surgeon who gave me 12 mm margins.

But lucky I got breast cancer? I’ll take Door Number Two instead, thanks.

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