Tumour-umour

A few years ago a long, thin object hurtled into our atmosphere from outside the galaxy. The scientist scratched their heads. Neither comet or asteroid in style, this interstellar phenomenon was dismissed.

I received my scan results back yesterday. I have ‘something’ it’s not quite an Adenomyosis not quite thickened endometrium. It’s my own Oumuamua. My Tumour-umour.

Like Oumuamua my body is crying out to be noticed, to be taken seriously but no one ever does. I am just an oddity. Something strange to marvel but forget quickly. No one cares. I am just a woman with no bleeding but all the pains. I am not a comet or an asteroid. I am a woman who cannot get pregnant so isn’t worth investigating. My problems and my pain are my own.

Here I am, sat upright, worried at 4am. Alone, slightly terrified and somewhat in despair. I know in a few weeks it will be dismissed and I will be kicked out of oncology, only to return in a few years time with another cancer-type anomaly.

This has gone on for twenty years. I spent nine in and out of oncology. All false alarms. One day though I may not be so lucky, one day my tumour-umour will be just that – cancer.

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