Chance = Change

          

            We’ve decided to name it.   We’ve not thought of quite the right name just yet, but we do think it deserves a name all its own, since it has become such a living, breathing, palpable* presence in our lives over the past few days.

            *Blatant, conspicuous, obvious, overt, flagrant, tangible , and though it may not be quite clear, it is plainly present .  Funny how fear makes you hyper-aware of every little thing, like the exact meaning of the words you choose to use when writing about the things that scare you. This nameless, large, white roundish mass inside my body does scare me. She has made me sit up and take notice, and I do believe she is a “she”, rather than an “it.”

I mean, it’s not like she’s located in my liver. In that case, it would more definitely be a “he”, because men drink more than women, and are always getting liver diseases and dying of painful yellowing jaundices, after their long careers of drinking. I don’t know the percentages, but if this  fibroidal thingy of mine was on the liver, she would be a “he.”  If she’d made her grand entrance in the prostate, there’d be no question, and I would find some jaunty, man-about-town moniker for it, like Casey or Chad. Chad the prostate fibroidal thingy! Or if she’d shown up in the intestinal tract? Wouldn’t “Henry” or “Marvin” be just right?  Something workmanlike and useful, indicating the everyday usefulness of the internal organ thus attached to?   No. This new close companion of mine is definitely my new BFF, and she is a girl.

Why do I consider her a new best friend forever, I bet you’re wondering.

Is this some sort of Stockholm Syndrome spin-off?  This surprising intruder is holding me hostage and in order to bargain for my freedom, I am falling in love with it? No. Not exactly that.  Because it will free me, one way or the other, and it will have nothing at all to do with how we feel about each other. First of all, she cannot feel, she can only be present and grow. That’s all she knows, since I am assuming she has no actual brain.  But of course, what is a brain? And what do I know about a brain’s actual nature and power?  But I digress.

She will be my new BFF because even if she is a kindly visitor, and her stay inside my body is a short –lived one, she will , in some deep way, be with me forever because she has changed me forever. Because of her, I am thinking about heretofore- unthinkable things up close - illness, death, pain and suffering - and I am learning much. I am on the brink of learning it all – knowing it all – embracing it all – as a result of my encounter with her.  One never forgets a truly brilliant teacher. Never.

We are in process with this surprise visitor, and all the right things are being done. As far as her ultrasound goes - yes, this guest inside my body has already had her photo taken - she shows no signs of anything to be truly terrified of . Nothing turned bright red when they flooded her with color to see if cancer is present (cancers, I learned, need a lot of blood to live and grow, and when ultra-sounded with color show up bright red and orange. My Best Fibroid Forever showed up large and white. Still, she must be biopsied and examined and cleared of all possible hiding menace.

So, like the Princess and the pea that kept her up nights, my best fibroid friend has been keeping me awake nights, contemplating death, illness, pain and suffering, and so I've decided to meditate on these very subjects more, read what Buddhist teachers have to say about them, and get right down to the nitty-gritty: we all die some time and every moment we live, we are in fact that much closer to living no more...at least in this particular body.  And I have decided that even the pain and terror - as part of my life as they are - must be embraced and loved.
*****************************TIME PASSES*****************************
Fiona the Fabulous Fibroid is dead! Long Live Fiona!  She has been successfully removed, and all signs indicate she is of no danger, and never has been. I wait for final word on the various biopsies, but my wonderful doctor assures me all is well, and I feel much relieved.   i went into St. Francis Hospital three days ago, went under general anesthesia, before doing so made great pals with all the staff of nurses in the Come and Go Unit (Paul calls it the In and Out Burger Unit), and was taken home by Peter very shortly after it all began. The removal took far less time than they anticipated. I only vomited once, as the anesthesia wore off. And the pictures Dr. Milkman gave me of Fiona show a clear, pink and healthy uterus, after Fiona is removed.  I am told my uterus looks exactly the way a healthy woman's-my-age should look.    Yet, still, I contemplate the eternal verities, and shall continue to do so for some time to come....maybe even from now on.
And thus, Fiona will live on.  I love what she has taught me.
Meanwhile, I have another column in this month's Marina TIMES - about San Francisco's weather - and have been asked to contribute regularly.  I came to SF to write. So, you betcha! COntribute? Oh my yes....so stay tuned!