I am currently lost in a sea of medical tests and fluid sharing. I share my fluids with my doctors, they share analysis of said fluids with me. That makes it sound sexier than just saying “blood test,” am I right?

Tomorrow is my big time MRI which will likely determine the date of my surgery as it will indicate the amount of destruction my tumor has caused. As good as an MRI can do when it has to work it’s magic around a bunch of metal me parts. But hey, that’s the best we can do since my usual lover, Cat Stevens (formerly known as CT Scan), might fry my baby like a cute little egg. Why Cat Stevens revels in scrambling innocent fetuses (feti?) so, I know not.

Oh yeah! Hey there’s this other thing I forgot to tell you which is that I was exposed to a virus that is potentially deadly for fetuses! So, you know, there’s that to think about as well.

That’s all I got, dudes. No jokes, really. No witty commentary. MRI tomorrow! Much vampiracy to come! I have to check in at 6:45 in the goddamned morning, strip down, get strapped down and lie vewy stiwl. You know, pimp business.

Tomorrow is my big time high risk ultrasound. I wish I had something positive or witty to say about that but I don’t. I’m scared out of my mind and I just want some good news, man. I can really, honestly deal with cancer as long as this creature in my womb comes out high fiving.

I’ve been trying really hard not to be miserable. It’s exhausting and I kind of prefer this nervous feeling because at least it’s something different. It gives me enough energy to walk back and forth from my kitchen to my living room for no reason while sighing and saying “ok” like I’m about to accomplish something fifty times an hour and hey, that’s super un-crazy, you guys. I’m sure pregnancy hormones don’t do much for angst either so, you know, fuck it. Until tomorrow!

Transitioning back into being a cancer patient is some rough shit, you guys. I can’t write, I can’t knit and I can’t bring myself to give a shit about sociology. Math is cool and I can zombie my way through some equations like a champ but writing essays about people and why they do what they do is just smelly balls.

I really had myself convinced that this was it. Almost two years without a surgery and thirty-eight lung tumors that hadn’t grown in almost five. I was rocking this whole stable thing and fuck remission anyway. Who needs him? I heard he got crabs from that one girl that one time.

And so I wait. I have my screaming, pounding the tile until my fists ache breakdown and then I stop. Life scoots me along like a moving sidewalk and I am it’s weary traveler and I’m pretty sure the airline is going to lose my luggage anyway. Someone broke the lock off my suitcase.

Hey, man. It’s been a while. I started this blog as a way to document my knitting in 2012. I had big ideas. Things changed. It’s the middle of February, I’m twenty weeks pregnant and awaiting surgery. My cancer is back. It’s not as bad as it was last time, and that’s something. However, surgery will need to be done before this baby is born.

It’s ok. It really is. The way that this whole situation has come together is kind of perfect. Appointments were moved, dates were unexpectedly cancelled and it all fell together in a way that just worked out.

This song came on as I drove home from my oncology appointment, and to me that’s a good sign.

Here comes the sun and I say, it’s alright.

My friends, I am having computer troubles. Big ones. It figures that my dinosaur Macintosh would choose to meet it’s maker right after I start a blog and right at the beginning of Winter quarter, which I choose to do all online because of my uncomfortable pregnant-ness.

However, there is hope. I have found a computer to use temporarily and a new computer for me is on its way. Glory be!

I have begun the moccasin socks and they are, thus far, a joy to knit. Ask me if I still think so when I’m knitting that freaky weird sole.

Goodbye for now! I will try to find a way to sneak some photos on to this hijacked computer so I can show you all my progress. Until then, think good computer-y thoughts for me, won’t you?