Took Me Four Frekking Months

... but here it is!

I finally had a good cry.

I didn't realize how overwhelmingly stressed-out I've been until tonight. Now that I think about it, a lot has gone on in the last few months. First off, my 65-year-old mother with two ceramic hips and an autoimmune system disorder spent more than half a day in the Economy Class flying across the freaking Pacific Ocean so that she could attend her granddaughter's birth and to help out afterwards (speaking of the distance a mother is willing to go for her child... literally). I also realized that we totally take it for granted and neglected to acknowledge just how physically and emotionally taxing long-distance travels could be for her... or anyone her age. Every single day in the 4 months that she's been here, she cooks, cleans, holds and changes the baby, plays with Kai and teaches him Chinese, learns English and the names of the characters in Cars and Cars 2. As much as she drives me up the wall at times, I do enjoy her company. I just LOVE watching her with the kids because this is the happiest I've seen her (and my mom hasn't had a very happy life).

Then Mira Wei and all the 'usual' stress associated with a newborn came into our life. Sleep deprivation can really do a number on one's psyche, especially when one also has a little creature who's going through the first rebellious stage of his life. You start to rely on muscle memory when you have to fix your toddler breakfast at 7 when you've been up feeding the baby since 5 and have just put her down in her crib an hour ago. Your brain operates at 20%-30%, just enough to maintain and fulfill the day-to-day communications and obligations. As a bilingual, there have been moments when I'd be talking and suddenly, my brain just shut down and I just could not say what I was about to say in either language. It's not that I don't know the words. Oh, they're in my lexicon alright. It sort of feels like my brain at that moment decided that, in order to conserve, it was not worth the energy to finish what I wanted to say, so it just shut down completely.Needless to say, I have next to zero tolerance or patience to deal with mockery of my sudden decrease in language proficiency.

While I was going about my own business in more or less a zombie state, I learned that my mentor, colleague, and friend was diagnosed with breast cancer. My first reaction was "Fucking hell! Cancer is a bit too close to home!" Too close for comfort, the Big C! I didn't really feeling like talking or thinking about it right now, not after I had reached my own 5 year mark and just had a baby! But I also wanted to support her through the whole thing. I shared my experience with her: my fear of the initial surgery, dealing with the pain and uncertainty, coping with chemotherapy, accepting the new (scarred) body, dealing with a different self-image, developing a new sense of self, rebuilding confidence, combating the fear of losing husband and, ultimately, the fear of death. When other people sympathized her, I cheered her on. When everyone saw her surgery as the end of her normal life, I told her it was the beginning of a healthy life. Fortunately, the pathology reports indicate that it was an early stage cancer and that it was not invasive. She still has to talk to an oncologist to confirm, but so far it looks like she will not need any further treatment (ie., radiation or chemo therapy). I didn't realize how scared and emotionally draining this short journey with her was until she got the results from the pathologist.

I keep thinking (yes, I still do): how would I ever deal with cancer NOW?!?! It's one thing when it's just you and your boyfriend (at that time). I can't even begin to imagine how sad/worried/guilty I would feel if our kids had to go through what Bill went through.

All this brings my existing left ovary to light.

Our plan was to have the left ovary and Fallopian tube removed after the C-section, but my ob decided not to because they are severely adhered to my bowels. "Removing them would require major surgery," my ob told me the day I was being discharged from the hospital. But to me, it's like leaving a ticking time bomb in my body. I asked my GP to get me another appointment with the Gyne-oncologist at BC Cancer Agency for a second opinion, but the process to set up an appointment is so dreadfully long and complicated here that I wish I was in Taiwan under Dr. Liu's care.

While I'm still waiting for the appointment with the Gyne-oncologist, a few days ago I had another appointment with a genetic counselor in the hereditary cancer program to discuss whether my ovarian cancer could be hereditary. Long story short, given my family's medical history,there's very little evidence to believe that the kind of ovarian cancer I had was hereditary. What this means is that it is not absolutely necessary to have my left ovary removed and that the likelihood for Mira Wei to develop ovarian cancer is just as much or little as anyone else. However, if it is hereditary, there will be more than enough reason to seek out a second opinion as to the possibility of surgically removing my left ovary even if that means I have to undergo yet another major surgery. Wei will also have to be be informed once she's old enough to understand, go through regular checkups, and discuss her options once she's an adult.

So the genetic counselor ordered a blood test to check out 2 specific strands of DNA associated with ovarian cancer and, get this, breast cancer. Turned out, scientists have discovered that ovation cancer and breast cancer are closely related! Since I had ovarian cancer and am 40 years old, I have to start closely examining and monitoring my breasts once I stop breastfeeding.

Great! This is as if having dealt with ovarian cancer simply isn't enough. I don't expect to have earned a permanent "Cancer-Free" badge, but can't I at least enjoy to be worry-free for a while longer?! 

Then there was the whole thing about planning a surprise 40th birthday party for Bill. It was such a disappointment since only ONE person on my secret "US guests" mailing list actually showed up. Lesson learned. I'll buy him a Porsche on his 50th birthday. 

Aside from these heavy-duty stressers, there are other minor concerns: uncertainties about where their we want to move or stay in this house, Bill's job security (or lack thereof), my own sense of accomplishment and fulfillment (or lack thereof), the communication problem that Bill and I have had since we started dating, how I often feel disconnected from his life, how I feel like my family has completely taken over my life, when I'm returning to work and how we're going to manage with Wei being home... oh, and I should really have someone check out what's causing the pain in my feet. 

I keep thinking I should go see a counselor, but when am I ever gonna have time to do that?