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Eliza Hodgkins 1812 · 10-17-2005, 04:18 PM

There is nothing so good as the first really rainy day of the winter season here in L.A.

There is nothing so bad as finding out your only living grandparent has colon cancer.

There is nothing so good as having a family rally around said grandpa to bring him good cheer, laughter and love. I have a terrific family. A really, truly wonderful and lucky family. And I'm realizing more and more that if I carry on the way I do, when I'm 80 and diagnosed with cancer, I'll have no one to make ME laugh while I'm getting a transfusion of six pints of blood because I lost six pints of blood in 2 days. Jesus. 6 pints! Two days! Holy cancerous crap, Batman! Also, there can be little else more humiliating than ass cancer. Seriously, I don't have a lot of sentimental feelings about my rectum, but I'm pretty sure I'd miss it if it were ever sewed up shut and I had to poop in a bag that's attached to my hip. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'd think back on my formerly functioning dark star and feel a deep, belated love for it.

(We're not entirely sure that's what's going to happen to him, yet, but it's very, very, very likely he'll have to have a colostomy. For now, radiation therapy to see if they can mimimize the severity of the surgical procedure. At least it hasn't spread to his other organs, and it really should have considering that he's apparently exhibited symptons for months, maybe even a year, and never told anyone, the dumbass. The...the...MAN. I hear so many stories about men who refuse to seek treatment for things that are obviously KILLING THEM! Goodness. Goodness! Go to a doctor! Ask the gas station attendant for directions. Make your lives easier, men!)

A highlight from my hosptial visit:

"Where is my colon, anyway?"

What?!?!?!?!

HOW CAN YOU BE AN 81 YEAR OLD MAN AND NOT KNOW WHERE YOUR COLON IS LOCATED?!

I said, "It's in your head, Papa! Jesus, how can you not know this?!"

So I used my body as a diagram and showed him. My father explained about the large and small intestines, and the digestive process in general.

"Interesting. Very interesting. So, where's the tumor then?"

"Up your A$$, dad. It's up your ass!!!!" chimes in my mother, who is known world wide for her poise and decorum. Man, we had a good laugh at that.

I also heard a wonderful story about my mothers nickname (which is the name she goes by), Crickett. A name people started calling her in junior high school, I guess. I think sometime during her high school years, her father said, "Where did you get a name like Crickett anyway," and my mother replied, "Because I sleep all day and [makes a noise like a cricket] all night." LMFAO. My mother, ladies and gentleman. My whole friggin' family, for that matter.

10-17-2005, 04:18 PM	#38
Eliza Hodgkins 1812 Sputnik Sweetheart Join Date: Jan 2005 Location: Long Beach Posts: 2,685	There is nothing so good as the first really rainy day of the winter season here in L.A. There is nothing so bad as finding out your only living grandparent has colon cancer. There is nothing so good as having a family rally around said grandpa to bring him good cheer, laughter and love. I have a terrific family. A really, truly wonderful and lucky family. And I'm realizing more and more that if I carry on the way I do, when I'm 80 and diagnosed with cancer, I'll have no one to make ME laugh while I'm getting a transfusion of six pints of blood because I lost six pints of blood in 2 days. Jesus. 6 pints! Two days! Holy cancerous crap, Batman! Also, there can be little else more humiliating than ass cancer. Seriously, I don't have a lot of sentimental feelings about my rectum, but I'm pretty sure I'd miss it if it were ever sewed up shut and I had to poop in a bag that's attached to my hip. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'd think back on my formerly functioning dark star and feel a deep, belated love for it. (We're not entirely sure that's what's going to happen to him, yet, but it's very, very, very likely he'll have to have a colostomy. For now, radiation therapy to see if they can mimimize the severity of the surgical procedure. At least it hasn't spread to his other organs, and it really should have considering that he's apparently exhibited symptons for months, maybe even a year, and never told anyone, the dumbass. The...the...MAN. I hear so many stories about men who refuse to seek treatment for things that are obviously KILLING THEM! Goodness. Goodness! Go to a doctor! Ask the gas station attendant for directions. Make your lives easier, men!) A highlight from my hosptial visit: "Where is my colon, anyway?" What?!?!?!?! HOW CAN YOU BE AN 81 YEAR OLD MAN AND NOT KNOW WHERE YOUR COLON IS LOCATED?! I said, "It's in your head, Papa! Jesus, how can you not know this?!" So I used my body as a diagram and showed him. My father explained about the large and small intestines, and the digestive process in general. "Interesting. Very interesting. So, where's the tumor then?" "Up your A$$, dad. It's up your ass!!!!" chimes in my mother, who is known world wide for her poise and decorum. Man, we had a good laugh at that. I also heard a wonderful story about my mothers nickname (which is the name she goes by), Crickett. A name people started calling her in junior high school, I guess. I think sometime during her high school years, her father said, "Where did you get a name like Crickett anyway," and my mother replied, "Because I sleep all day and [makes a noise like a cricket] all night." LMFAO. My mother, ladies and gentleman. My whole friggin' family, for that matter.
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