Because no bad day is bad enough without my (insert thousand profanities here) sister-in-law, Queen Ditzoid of Planet All-About-Her...
So I e-mail blast the in-laws with what we have now. More worry and wait and terror. Oh good. B/c the consistently low hematocrit could be a sneaky ihndicator that the MGUS is going to go lymphoma or something *rarer* (i'm nauseated and shaking from PTSD and emotion and shit today, sorry if this is not great)....
And my (Hubby asked me not to call her that) SIL
My stupid-as-sheep-shit SIL
She asks this. She fucking well really asks this, and I apologize for profanities but if I don't cuss to thsoe who've heard tales of this amazing Center of the Universe Black Hole From Hell.... I'll lose my mind's remnants.
"If it's not cancer why are we worried?"
IF IT IS NOT CANCER?
2. MGUS by itself means his bone marrow's not making all the blood cells the right way and it's just not making disease yet, so there is a fucking huge ass problem, thanks so much, you (words Hubby asked me not to call her)
3. we're worried b/c we love him, you stupid (same words Hubby asked me not to call her). Y'know. HIM. Not you. Not the one whose universe centers on stupid shit like, "Oh, when so-and-so got bone marrow, she couldn't walk for a week from pain." THANK YOU FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT.
GOd and all the saints in heaven, when is it okay to have malfunctioning bone marrow? MGUS = disease that we don't know how bad it is till it makes him sick. How is that not worrying? It's there. It's bad. It's concerning.
"If it's not cancer why are we worried."
For frigging real, y'all.
Hey, if you live in Minnesota and see a tall vapid-staring blonde who looks like she has a mild eating disorder and a nose exactly like a Barbie doll, and manages to make herself seem liberal while married to a millionaire and driving a Mercedes and getting a horse for her kid.... You'll see me about three steps behind her, looking like a very furious puma. Do not warn her I'm there. I wanna knock her teeth into her skull so that *something* wil be rattling between her ears. She often says things like, "Well, I don't understand why they're bothering me if it's not important" (e.g., about *her*). Or "It's not cancer, why are we worried." (?!?!?!?!) Or this gem from her e-mail last night --- "so he has like 87 blood tests why does he need bone marrow".
DID I NOT JUST WRITE THIS OUT? Yes, yes I did. In facct, I dummied it down more for the in-laws than I did here. And her father and brother are in the professoin and her brother's wife (that weird one who hates me over pumpkin pie compliments, remember?) and she fucking well has to wonder why we're doing more testing?
Oh. My. Effing...
I was calm. I explained to her in 3d-grade (which is probably complimenting her capacity to grasp things not given to her to do i n a manual) terms. And she e-mails a chirpy "K, thx, bye" with a damn SMILEY emoticon.
Look, I get it. My worst years were my dad being ill and it ate our lives. My mom is .... could... any day or in twenty years. And I cannot do this with Hubby too and be okay about it. I'm sick to my stomach. I'm shaking. I'm having panic attacks in my own kitchen. All the reactions I kept out of the way? They're heeeeere! My brain has me reliving my dad's shit, atop the panic of my current fears. I am in bad shape.
But my freaking SIL couldn't even send a fake "thinking of you and hugs"???
Thank God we have each other, everyone here. Posting, lurking, whatever. Just so gald we have each other. Even if it only feels like we hang on to each other by fingertip-brushes b/c this is the internet... it's mroe than my damn SIL can give.
My mom isn't doing anything. Her brain tumor took her ability to feel things like she would have, so she's sorta just staring at m4 with the same concern she'd give a total stranger.
Oh, but good news. The doc said we can have pets. Won't affect anything so lonng as we are responsible pet owners in terms of cleaning up litterboxes and so forth.
Thank you for letting me melt down here.
Much puma love
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