My mom is doing wonderfully! When I mentioned to my mom that I was going to blog today she told me to inform the blog world about her cat scan (standard protocol, basic check up). She had to gag down a very disgusting drink which would make her insides glow. When I asked her to tell me more about it she said, "Well, there was a very nice old couple in the waiting room..." In keeping my mom's wishes, I have informed ya'll about her cat scan and I will be certain to let everyone know its results once we know; however, since this is not all that interesting of a story on it's own, I thought I'd share with everyone my angst in waiting to hear back about my BRCA gene from UPMC.So this past week the Spring semester began and because I happen to love school, it was a lot of fun. At school I live in a 6 bedroom house with 5 other girls whom I am very good friends with, making the whole going to school bit even more fun. Surprisingly, we all get along really well, like, 95% of the time! The house we live in, for those of you who do not know, is what I like to refer to as "Brady Bunch Chic." Let's just say that while it is a perfect home for six undergraduates with very miniscule incomes, it would need some serious overhauling should "real" adults ever want to buy it. In the 1960's this house would have been the cream of the crop, a top of line home with 6 full bedrooms, all with closets, three bathrooms, a massive basement, two fireplaces, and an inter-home speaker system, hard wood floors. All on a corner lot with an attached garage and fenced in backyard. But time has worn on and unfortunately, the previous owner's sense of paint color & standards of up keep were a far cry from substantial. The windows are old and drafty, the roof will need replaced in the next year or two, the toilets are so wide that I think Richard Simons could do aerobics on the lid, the water pressure is sub-par and for the better part of the first semester, a raccoon --whom we affectionately named Ricardo-- was nesting in the attic.
So there I was earlier this week, laying in my full sized bed in my hot pink room unable to fall asleep at the Brady Bunch house. I began to think that perhaps I should bust out my Kindle and get in some reading. I turn on my hot pink bedside lamp which is placed on my great-grandmother's white bedside table. I begin to read. Every few chapters I look at the clock, surprised I am unable to sleep still. And then out of the corner of my eye, I spot something black on my Barbie-Dream-House-pink painted walls. I tell myself to remain calm but that plan may as well been flushed down our poorly plumbed toilets because within seconds I was on my feet screaming and jumping. What I had spotted inching around my room was an ant. In the middle of January. WHAT THE!?!
For anyone who might know me personally, I am two things, both of which make this situation even more wild than it seems: 1.) a neat freak and 2.) terrified of anything that spans from the insect way of life.
I immediately move my entire bed, bed side table, lamp and everything else remotely close to the ant as far away as I can. I spray an entire can of Raid on the wall. And the ant dies. Thank God.
My 8 am teaching class the next morning came in a hurry, needless to say. I thought for sure that the minute my day was complete I'd be able to relax and go to bed early. But instead, I found myself (on the other side of my room than the initial intruder) and staring up at my ceiling. Was I still worried about that ant? Yes. But more so, I realized that my mind was not really all that focused on the ant(s) that (most likely) was/were marching in two by two through my window. Rather, I was thinking about whether or not my BRCA gene was going to come back positive or not.
All week I have been patiently awaiting the phone call from Darcy the geneticist at UPMC who counseled me prior to my decision to be screened for the BRCA gene mutation. Within the next few days I will know whether I too carry the gene. So this is a very long winded and round about way to say that I blame cancer for making me spot an ant in my room and basically convulse with fear and spray massive amounts of toxins on my bedroom window.
In a way, the ant and cancer have a lot in common: neither are welcome in any home of mine, they cause me to lose sleep and have a lot of anxiety but while they are there you have to stay strong until you can beat the living snot out of them with powerful chemicals.
Yes, I just compared ants and cancer. This is a result of 108 credits of English courses.
