...and I ain't laughing.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
You know why?
I’m a vegan. I mean, come on! Veg-an, it’s got “veg” in the freakin’ name for a reason people! I eat more vegetables than anyone I know and they’re supposed to protect me from this kinda crap. All the web sites and books that address cancer-fighting nutrition recommend a diet like what I already eat. Just how much kale is one woman supposed to consume???
I lost 130 lbs before I hit my forties. That’s a whole, albeit skinnier than me, person! I’m not obese. I’m supposed to be a roll model for clean living and this cancer shit is messing with my image…figuratively and literally.
I breastfed my first child. Hello, wasn’t that was supposed to protect me from this, too? That’s not why I did it, but still. She was a preemie who nursed every two hours for the first two years. Really.
I am breastfeeding my second child. Getting cancer while you are actually breastfeeding is supposed to be highly unlikely. Don’t even get me started. My eyes are going to dry up and roll out of my head from the salt in my tears.
I quit smoking. I mean, if it were lung cancer I could see it, I was 38 when I quit.
I rarely drink (till now, anyway, lol).
My mother’s cancer was supposed to be due to her ridiculous over use of HRT. We’re talking like over 15 years. She thought it made her look & feel young. You should see her now after the chemo and radiation. I would have just had a facelift and taken some vitamins.
Even though my mom has breast cancer she’s already 71 and has a really good prognosis for years to come. She got to have a lumpectomy too. And she’s single, celibate and a prude. I’m just sayin’.
Three out of four of my grandparents lived to be a very ripe old age with no diseases and they were an unhealthy bunch – the one that didn’t died after a series of strokes because of a genetic mutation called thrombophilia, but he didn’t know he had it because no one knew that kind of stuff back then. It was the dark ages, the 60’s, when I was a kid.
My dad is deceased, one year ago this month. He was 71. He died a thrombophilia related death, too, like his father. Coronary thrombosis, a heart attack. He knew he had the genetic predisposition, but chose to ignore it. He was a man who thought he knew everything. This time he was definitely wrong and I was totally right, I even have proof. Only I can’t tell him, cause he’s dead, that's the proof. Irony doesn't do it justice. Oh, and he was a really, really, REALLY mean father. He died peacefully in his sleep. With his new wife by his side, who inherited everything.
I do know I have thrombophilia so I can take care of myself, thereby beating the odds. I found that out by almost dying once, so haven't I already been there done that? At least close enough?
But even still, it was a blood clot that was supposed to get me in the end, not this. Oh, but wait, there's more -- risk of blood clots are highly increased when you have cancer.
Bitter, no, why do you ask?