Month 2

I haven't been posting much, but I feel like there isn't much to say. Officially, things are still the same, I'm still waiting for my appointment with the urologist to discuss my future and the results of my scan. That's been booked now, for next Wednesday, the 12th of October. At that point Mr Andrews will let me know if the cancer was malignant or benign, and if it has spread further. He'll recommend either chemo, radiotherapy or neither, and he'll hopefully tell me when my next scan will be too. Lots more will be revealed on Wednesday.

That's really why I haven't been posting. I feel that if I have no news, I have nothing to say. I read other's blogs sometimes and they are usually centered around events or how people feel about events, and since I have no events to share, that leaves me with feelings. And I'm not very good with feelings.

I have no idea how I really feel about myself or these circumstances at the moment. I change from happy to sad for no reason, I'm occasionally horny but often have no sex drive at all (too much info, but it's kind of a key thing with the type of cancer I had), I feel like pigging out way too often, but mostly I have a horrible sense of dread. What if it has spread? What if I am that one out of ten that gets bad news from their scan? Someone has to be that guy. If nobody was that guy, it would be ten out of ten, not nine. What if it's me?

I know it's pointless freaking out about something you aren't even sure about, and if it wasn't me going through it I would be telling myself that. But I can't shake the feeling that things are still wrong. I just wish I knew why.

Maybe it almost feels too easy, so far? While I did have to abandon my life and flee back to the UK, it seems a small price to pay compared to what I thought of cancer before this. I thought cancer was this life destroying disease, not something you might get sorted in one operation. Or maybe I'm just being pessimistic? I always have been, and it seems that sometimes if something else could go wrong, it will.

Or maybe it's something more physical. Before the operation, back in the olden days when I still had both testicles (ah, memories), it was very obvious that one was fine and one was not. I could compare. I had a control group, I had a test subject, old lefty was what I based old righty's poor condition off of. Now, I have one that I am praying is fine, and one fake implant that feels nothing like the real thing. I feel the one I have left and wonder to myself, "is that what it is supposed to feel like?". I worry that it's not. But I can only wait 'til next Wednesday. Fun.

I have a horrid habit of playing out what-if scenarios in my head. I guess most people do this, but mine are always tainted by my pessimism. I think to myself, what if it's spread. What if I lose the other testicle, how much will that affect my life? And I realise it will affect it quite a lot.

Just a warning, this may get a little uh.. personal, here, but I need to write it down at some point. I forsee my future self as being quite a family man. Having a boring 9-5 job in a cubicle somewhere in the USA doesn't bother me, so long as I have a family to provide for. Before I met Megan, I didn't know how much I wanted it, but now it turns out I really do. The idea that, while it will still be possible in this horrible maybe-future, won't seem.. right, is just terrifying. I don't know what I'd do. I don't know how I'd react. I wouldn't be able to do it myself, nor would I have the sex drive to do it myself without chemical hormones.

Everything would be test tubes and expenses. Megan would have to be over here if we went that route, and the sperm bank only freezes my stuff for 3 years (with possible extension, but still). Just lots of stuff to worry about if that is how it turns out.

If. I hate ifs. I can't plan around ifs. I'm sick of ifs.

Oh, and also, my old cat died today. RIP Taz, I'm sure I'll accidentally say your name about 12,000 times in the next two or so weeks and feel sad every time I do so.