The Walking C

Walking C small town girl contends with cancer I have never really thought of myself as a small town girl . My family being from the great city of new York, I had always been exposed to the bes of both worlds. Lots a culture, not necessarily sheltered. I was aware of other ethnicities and religions that a whole world of people and places existed outside the little town where my parents decided to make four home.  A descion apparently that did not come easy. My father who became enamoured with the upstate area through friends who were quickly tiring of city life. They aspired to open a restaurant in a town called ONEONTA my mother, still firmly rooted in new York with her family and close friends, followed reluctantly, probably under the impression that green lawns and small neighborhoods would be an ideal place to raise her family.  It turns out she wasn't wrong, and after much adjustment we olearys  became a permanent ONEONTA fixture. And created many many happy memories.  So more on small town. I like most teens loved the city I loved having the opportunity to visit and vacation. I considered myself quite cosmopolitan learning much of the NYC trends and getting into fashion. I even applied to a downstate school sunny purchase aprox 30 miles from manhattan but populated with hipsters and boroughers ams new jersey bridge and tunnel types so I felt like I had landed in my own small Greenwich village. Much easier to access from my dormitory on the small westchester campus.  Lots of fun there. Not necessarily collegiate appropriate fun, but I learned a bit about college and what it entails.  I searched bartending classifieds, looked on sublet .com at apartments I couldn't afford and dreamed manolo blahnik dreams. Couldn't escape despite how I felt I really wanted to the small town after all and after much drinking and misbehaving. Found myself once again at home in otown.  I will go back but how is this relevant to cancer diagnoses? I suppose I start with the day I found out I had my walking c.  I had been under the impression I was afflicted with a nasto case of the walking p. pneumonia that is. I had been ill for 2months with coughs and back pain and general malaise. I went to our small town urgent care clinic for a diagnosis got arithromucan was told my lungs were clear and sent on my merry way.  Things did not improve and after waking early one morning with an excessively panic doomsday feeling, I decided to head to the er.  Good thing... Enter small town doc: I won't really go through the hours of waiting. Mum was there with me, naturally we didn't think anything super serious. Although I might have now that I think of it. Yes, to be honest, I knew something was up. But I refuse to dwell of what ifs and it Is pointless at this point.  I had many many scans and tests. Beginning with a chest X-ray, a ct scan multiple sonograms and ultrasounds and an MRI. And a mammogram.  The er doctor, looking dismayed, came into the room what I'm sure was hours later. The radiologist read all your film, yadda yadda, you have cancer cells in your breast and lungs and spots on your liver. You can go ahead and cry if you need to. I didn't.  On  a chilly February day I was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer, I am still figuring out what this means two months later. It seems to mean living inconstant fear and a state of questioning. I am waiting to see if I can find what the books are calling " my new normal" is it coming? I sure hope so. The first few nights are difficult to remember. I drank a lot, talked with friends, denied I'm sure a Bit. I was in the first stage of shock and grief. Not knowing what to do and not really being to,d what to do by the medical community at that point, our conversAtion was a lot so speculation and guess work.  Mom was looking for a fix. They all said call Sloan Kettering. She was on the phone the next day with the Lauder breast cancer center. The first available appointment was march 14 th. she took it.