Let’s get the good news out of the way first, the positive outlook, glass half- full ,non-stinkin’ thinkin’ way of looking at what happened. At least the appendix didn’t burst.  At least it didn’t happen before the Pan mass Challenge.  At least it didn’t happen during the triathlon.

Ok.  That’s it.  That is all I can think of. Oh yeah, At least it wasn’t Ovarian cancer which I thought it could be while I lay in bed writhing in pain Wednesday night.

Let’s back up a bit for those who don’t know what happened this week. Wednesday night at work I got some seriously intense stomach pains.  Not just a regular stomach ache, this was deep, and seemed to effect my whole body.  I got through work, went home and tried to sleep through the pain.

By 6:30 I was in a fetal position in the ER of Winchester Hospital. After various internal and external ultrasounds they confirmed what I already knew from my early morning web search –appendicitis.  

“Well, I actually have a triathlon next weekend, so maybe we could hold off,” I said to the spiky haired young surgical assistant.

“Yah, no, that’s not a possibility. I am afraid there will be no triathlon for you.”

“You don’t understand.  I have worked really ,really hard …I just went through 2 years of surgeries and chemo to fight back to where I am…no.” I turned by head away so he could not see my eyes well up. 

“I am sure there will be other races,” he said callously.

Of course he didn’t understand. Why should he. 

My oncologist understood though.  When I called her to ask if I should transfer to the Brigham, she totally got it, I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

“I am going to miss the Title 9 triathlon next weekend,” I said.

“That sucks,” she said.

And that’s really about all you can say about it.  It sucks, like  so many things in life. Cancer sucks, death sucks, injury sucks, illness sucks, and disappointment sucks.  But we move on because sometimes we have no choice. 

So I had the open appendectomy since it is easier for the surgeon than the laparoscopy but leaves a lovely scar on my belly.  That brings my scar total this year (including the stitches in my lip from the rocking chair incident last month) to 10 — not bad for someone who used to brag that she lived 40 years without a broken bone or stitch in her body.

 I wasn’t up for an ER transfer to the Brigham so I stayed at Winchester Hospital and they were very good to me. My oncologist talked to the surgeon and made sure that they took pathology and sent her the report.  I guess there is something called cancer of the appendix, although quite rare, but we know my track record with rare, so no one was taking any chances.

I was home less than 24 hours after surgery (which I think is ridiculous) walking around the block. I always find that the faster I get up and moving, the faster I heal. I can’t help thinking that the last blog entry pissed the Gods off somehow.  Maybe they decided I was getting too cocky, too sure of myself, too confident in the ability of my body. Maybe they needed to knock me back a few pegs.  I am sure there is a lesson in here that I am supposed to be getting; right now, I am just not seeing it.

 When I  do figure it out, I will be sure to let you all know.