my scary face i’d like to show dr. oncologist.

The two weeks waiting to see an oncologist was about as fun as waiting to find out if Michele had breast cancer or not. It’s like ok, she has cancer now what? We still have no answers to questions such as what stage is it, what grade is the tumor, what is fueling the tumor, what is her survival rate etc. Which prior to this whole diagnosis, I had a vague knowledge about that stuff but you start to pay attention real quick when that shit is happening to someone you love.

All my life people have called me pessimistic but I like to call myself a realist. As a side note I can’t remember exactly which study it was but there was a study with two groups, one group considered themselves to be pessimistic and the other group considered themselves to be optimistic. Each group was presented with different situations and later had to relay what happened. The researches discovered that pessimistic people had a more realistic perspective of what actually transpired. Sooo there is my justification for being a “realist”, just one scientific study, hahaha.

Anyway I prefer to prepare for the worst case scenario because thats how life has been for us. It is easier for me to expect the worst and then be pleasantly surprised rather than thinking its all unicorns and puppies only to be hit upside the head with a hammer. Needless to say it is hard for me to try and be optimistic. Despite my difficulties with optimism, I did allow myself the chance to hope that it was a mistake or perhaps it really was benign. Especially since we had a rough start in life and finally getting to that point where it wasn’t all about survival but starting to be about enjoying ourselves and trying our hand at all the things we talked about doing. It didn’t seem fair that this could happen now after all we’ve gone through, but typical Costa bad luck prevails she doesn’t care if we’ve hyphenated our last names or not.

I was also thinking about how there are tons of people on this planet who suck and are overall terrible f***ing human beings but they’re cancer free. The universe surely can deal a cruel hand to unsuspecting and undeserving people. You would think Michele doesn’t smoke cigarettes or meth and she barely drinks; she isn’t making out with plutonium or hanging out in front of the microwave for 20 hours straight. She is 34 years old, eats healthy and exercises and all that noise but none of the protects you from cancer. It lessens your chances sure but it is no guarantee.

During the maddening wait time and at Michele’s urging I also got checked out. I am in the clear. For a second we were scared because they did see something in my own Lefty as well but they’re pretty sure its a cyst which means just getting checked out more often just in case.

For those few days before we knew what it was, it was incredibly upsetting but also relieving in a strange way? Because that means Michele didn’t have to do this alone but at the same time I was worried because then I might be too sick to help her out. After I got the ok, I know people were well-meaning by saying great news that I’m fine however it made me feel worse. My sister still has cancer and yeah I dodged a bullet but strangely I wasn’t feeling good about it at all.

Me feeling bad was because I feel guilty. I am familiar with the term survivor’s guilt, I do have a BA in Psychology so I know how the whole world works, hahaha. Previously I thought that it didn’t seem fair that in those kind of situations anyone felt guilty. My rationale was that some times it really is up to chance and it didn’t make sense to feel guilty about you surviving and the other person didn’t because unfortunately in this world not all of us can make it. We all just try our best and hopefully chance is on our side and we survive.

I know it doesn’t completely apply here thankfully because Michele is still kicking but its something I can relate to because I do feel this incredible guilt that this is happening to her and not me. Of course I would be upset if this was happening to me but its much easier to accept and deal with if it were me. The thought of being twinless is unbearable. Yes, there is that whole concept about how the bond between twins is special and as trite as it sounds, it really is. Unfortunately we can’t do cool party tricks like the Crimson Twins (G.I. Joe) where we can feel each other’s physical pain or other awesome stuff like communicate telepathically but nevertheless my twin is the most important person to me and I can not imagine my life without her. (Jason you’re up there too buddy, don’t worry)

The whole twin experience is something rather indescribable and when attempt to describe it just sounds kinda lame. But for non twins, imagine having an instant best friend who knows you better than anyone else ever will; who can tell how you’re feeling and understands you without explanation. We can both be looking at the same thing and find it hilarious, there is no need to explain its funniness because you both just get it. It really is a morale booster too for any jokes you tell other people that fall flat because at least your twin will always laugh, so its like having an Ed Mcmahon who looks like you but isn’t trying to sell you Publishing Clearinghouse junk mail.

All the fun thoughts you have while playing the waiting game with Dr. Oncologist continues.