Lately I’ve been extraordinarily busy. Things have gotten complicated, and stressful.
(But really, what’s new?)
This past spring, on top of my Stanford physics classes, I took some free classes from UPenn. Then I signed up for three classes over the summer – lit classes from Brown, and one from the University of London via Coursera called “The Camera Never Lies”. I thought that was a reasonable amount of learnin’ to aspire to, until the fateful moment when everything started overlapping – at one point I had one physics class (which was delayed at start so it was late wrapping up), a Greek mythology course, two Brown lit courses and a design class all at once. Each lit class requires me to read a book a week, write a paper and possibly take an exam, the myth class had similar reading requirements plus exams and the occasional paper, the design course had prototypes that needed blueprinting and building (and documenting on the interwebs IE: building a website), and the physics class had, well, physics: math, math, math, exams, problem sets, and of course, math. Plus hours of lectures and notes for each class.
As you can imagine, it was around this time that my brain tried to escape. It made a valiant effort, but I managed to get it to behave – mostly by promising that it was going to get better. And it was going to get better, and I knew from the get-go that overlapping may happen in some circumstances and would happen in others, so it wasn’t too much of a shock. It just was a bit more than I was expecting. (‘Twas better-in-theory I suppose.)
I took my brain to see the Star Trek movie (because Cumber—-ch was in it, and fukkin Sylar so it was inevitable), after which it agreed to stay in my head and not fracture into different people. Again.
While all of this was going on, something strange had been developing. Completely unbeknownst to me, and without any sort of permission or anything, a mystery mass began squatting in my foot. This is the random medical issue I mentioned here. I have so much weird health bullshiz that I pretty much didn’t think anything of it. I just named it Phil and drew the Phil Face on it. But it started getting uncomfortable and so I had it expertly appraised.
Turns out Phil is a vascular mass, and he is painful because he is growing up through a junction of nerves and important vessels in my foot. Everyone who has looked at it – from my GP to my dermatologist – has said the same thing: that it’s in a really bad spot. You’d think a mass growing in the bottom of a foot would be worse, but nope, I found worse and it’s right… thar <points to Phil>.
They’re not sure what Phil is exactly, and he is going to be removed and then biopsied at 7:30 tomorrow morning in one of the top hospitals in the world. How that happened, I dunno, but it did. So in the middle of my school mayhem, all of this craziness is going down, tests and scans, trips into Boston. I went from waiting to ‘see what Phil would do’, to minor medical procedures, to okay we are going to remove it right… NOW. In a week I had a surgical appointment, a miracle GP approval appointment, phone interviews, pre-op interviews, and all my ducks in a row…
I haven’t really been nervous about this new development or anything. I think I’ve been awfully good about a lot of things that happen to me, and that are happening to me. But two incidents have made me anxious. The first was an unrelated dermatological appointment, in which my doctor – curious about Phil – checked him out. He went a tad grim and wrote a note to my podiatrist requesting biopsy results. The second thing that got me nervous was the pre-op appointment with said podiatrist. We talked about the pathology, and how important it was. He basically told me that it could go either way, and we have to be really careful because of my family history. This made me nervous because my family history is this:
In the mid 2000’s my cousin had a mass removed from his leg. They thought it was a cyst but found that it was melanoma. He beat it, or so they thought, for on his five year checkup they found it had returned, and spread to his bones. They spent the next year and a half trying everything they could but it was of no use and he died in 2011.
So right now, I have a mass in my foot that my doctors thought was a cyst. But it’s not. I’m going to have it removed and it may or may not be cancerous. If it is, I am not afraid so much of the cancer.( I think cancer should be more afraid of me.) However, there are factors in my life that are very unreliable, and I am finding myself aware of how alone I will be in this. That is not to say that I don’t have friends and family who will help me. It has to do with the family I live with and how they will deal with this sort of thing, should it come up. I feel as though in a lot of ways they won’t be reliable, and I don’t know if I can be sick and take care of them the way I do now. It’s complicated, and I don’t really want to get into it that much, but that is where I’m at in my head.
Also. Despite my request that this is kept under wraps until we know what is going on, my mother went and told some people anyway (one of her awesome little quirks). One of those people is my aunt, my cousin’s mother. So you can imagine how upset she is over this, and how upset I am that she had to find out like this. I don’t need her going through this again, you know? She shouldn’t have to worry. I don’t want people freaking out, and I don’t want people reacting until we know there is something to react to. Things tend to get blown way out of proportion in my family, and I just need all my ducks in a row before I have to deal with everybody else.
Surgery is tomorrow – or rather – Phil get’s officially evicted tomorrow. Bastard squatting was bad enough, but stealing utilities? Naw, bitch gotta go.
In lieu of flowers, send LPs and ukuleles. Ocarinas are also acceptable.
And on that note, I’m off.
Oh and by the way, after I wrote that last post I finished Theogony and aced an exam on it. Consider that bitch smote.