I'm lost. . .

I haven't posted in a bit because I was in the hospital for 2 1/2 weeks after the surgery and since I got out, I've been adjusting.

Quick update:

The surgery didn't go very well. (I almost died.) The doctor was able to get all the cancer he saw out, but he also had to remove my bladder and my rectum. So now I have ostomy bags.

I'm still getting used to them and really don't like leaving the house (What if there's a problem? What if someone smells me?), but I'm hoping that gets better.

**sigh**

I just want my life back. . .

Let's be real for a moment, mkay?

I find it funny that I can't talk frankly with my friends about the fact that I'm dying of cancer. They say all the things friends are supposed to say, "Don't talk like that!" "You gotta stay positive!"

It's hard to stay positive when go through 4 pads on a GOOD day and who knows how much toilet paper.

(It gets worse. If you like cherry cobbler, stop reading now!)

So. . .I'm taking a break from Facebook. . .

It seems like every time I turn around, someone is announcing they're pregnant. I'm happy for them. . .really. But at the same time, I'm enraged, because I won't be getting pregnant. I won't be having any more kids. And it wasn't even my choice.

I found out by accident that radiation had killed my ovaries. A quick off-hand comment by some doctor that I never saw again and I'm sitting stunned in the office.

I never meant for my daughter to be an only child.

And I'm pissed that she has to be.

I knew there was going to come a time when pregnant people and newborns were gonna send me down the spiral, but I always thought it would start with my boss' daughter (the first baby I saw post-op). It didn't, so I thought I was safe.

Boy was I wrong.

All the feelings were just waiting for 5 months to pass and me to drop my guard.

Oh well, I'll just wall myself off while I work on it. I mean, I can't be so self-centered as to ask my friends not to talk about their pregnancies, can I?