Training for Fear

I was cut open from one side of my body to the other on August 28th, 2009.

2 surgeries.

Only a few thousand stitches.

I was in the saddle the next day...on the trainer.

There were complications getting the bleeding to stop.

A CAT scan accidentally found a cyst in one of my ovaries and pointed out that one of my kidneys was smaller than the other.

My surgeon advised me to ignore the cyst until it proved to be physically uncomfortable or until I started to exhibit other symptoms of an issue.

I raced my first cx race of the season 2 weeks after my surgery.

I then raced a full cx season in which I could measure my improvement and strength-gain each week.

Initially I had no core, but that started to change.

2 weeks ago I got hurt.

I had started to feel pain.

I had started to exhibit symptoms that maybe all was not OK in the ol' ovary area.

I scheduled an appointment with my OB/gyn and had the records from the CAT scan sent to him.

Generally he makes me feel good and optimistic about things.

Today he was more fatherly and concerned as he felt around and was able to feel the cyst.

He immediately sent me to a specialist.

We talked briefly about the fact that due to my recent surgery, laparoscopic surgery was not likely an option "if" there was something there.

I reassured him that I was "OK" with the reality that they may have to cut me open again.

(I wasn't, but he seemed to need that.)

In the hour and a half between his office and the ultrasound with the specialist, I did what I could to hold it together.

As I situated myself on the ultrasound table, the tech and I discussed what we saw on the screens.

The black monster measured 9 cm. My ovary is about 1.1 cm.

(Ummmm, you do not have to be all that handy with the Math to realize that a 9cm cyst on a 1.1 cm ovary is not a good thing.)

I spoke with the specialist and since she has never met me, she attempted to ease me into the idea that they were going to cut into me again.

I told her that I was aware and prepared.

(I'm not, but she seemed to need that.)

They are going to cut into me again.

They are going to cut into me and I am going to relive what I went through in September.

They are going to "move" my muscles out of the way and cut through me.

They will decide Friday whether they are simply taking the cyst or if they are taking the ovary with it.

I am so fucking angry and terrified and 20 different emotions not able to be translated in a fucking blog that I cannot see straight.

I am so fucking tired of making everyone else comfortable with what the fuck is going on with me that I want to scream.

I have no cyclocross season to look forward to this time when I go under.

I have the cold, race-less winter.

Jay reminded me that Froze Toes is right around the corner.

I want to smack him...but know that he is trying to help.

I want to shake the Universe and ask it, "WHY?!?!?"

I want to sleep.

I want to cry.

I want to be 26 again and cancer-free.

I want my youth back.

I want a fucking do-over.

I want to see my body one last time without the scars covering it and aging it well past its physical age.

I want to ride my bike for one fucking day without chronic pain and 10 years of physical beating.

I want to be 10 years old in Brooklyn, riding my bike across the bridge toward the beach when I wasn't supposed to.