Friday, February 8, 2013

Boobs, Balls and Lumps

Last night, after acupuncture, I went to some friends' new place ostensibly to play board games, but more accurately to celebrate the successful removal of a cancerous lump from Bitsy's boob. She wrote about how she saved her own life with a good tit-grope in the shower, and continues to write amusing and engaging things about something that is scary.

Bitsy's medical fun-ride took just under three weeks; mine has taken just under sixteen months, but we found something we have in common that people don't really get: it never ends. There are questions that simply cannot be answered accurately, or even approximately. Humans do not like this truth. Western medicine hates to have to admit it, also. This is more evident, perhaps, with neurology, but it's just as true with oncology.

When will my brain learn to use my right side? No idea.
Are you going to need chemotherapy? Dunno. Ask later.
Will you have double vision for ever? SCIENCE says probably, but not certainly.
The lump is out and you caught it early, so you're all clear, right? SCIENCE says probably, but not certainly.

The lack of a finite endpoint could be disheartening, and I think it is to many, but I like being a rational person, I like to understand things, and I like logic. I will get better if (and only if) I work hard. I don't know when I'll get better, but it will happen. So I work hard. There's no point worrying about unknowns, when the known path is right there, and clear.

What's your next step? Take that. Don't worry about the chasm down the road, you can build that bridge if you have to, but unless you take the next step, you'll never find out if there's already a way across.