The squash-and-green-bean thing I ate at Fino the other day. The Spinster Aunt of the New Millennium has much in common with this plate of flaccid vegetables.
The results are in! One four-thousand-dollar-genetic-test-that-insurance-won’t-cover later, it turns out that I am a mutant. I have the BRCA2 mutation, one of two mutations known to predispose people to breast cancer. These mutations are known in the biz as ‘deleterious’. That’s because they tend to delete you.
It is quite an exclusive little mutation. I share it with less than 1% of the general human population, and some Ashkenazi Jews, and only 10% of the breast cancerous. Lucky me!
“At least now you know why you got cancer so young!” suggested my health care professional, amiably. She repeated the sentiment a few more times during the debriefing. She is a very nice lady, but in this case somewhat overestimated the extent of my hankering to finger a specific culprit in this casting-of-the-ominous-shadow over my carefree youth. I don’t really give a crap how I got it. I am much more interested in just getting rid of it.
Easier said than done, my young onions. Easier said than done. Because the BRCA2 mutation suggests “an increased risk” (vile, oft-repeated words meaning nothing and everything) of not only a recurrence of breast cancer, but of ovarian (!) and even pancreatic (!!) cancers as well, in August I will undergo what can only be described as a sex change operation. All estrogen must go! By which I mean that I will be saying sayonara to the old uterus, tubes, ovaries, and uniboob. Of course this barbaric prophylaxis in no way guarantees anything. Except, naturally, my rekindled interest in pharmaceutical painkillers.
“You’re still the same person you were yesterday,” remarked my oncologist*, alluding to the fact that I was born with this—pardon my hokiness—ticking time-bomb, and have been as one with it all along. But I’m not the same person I was yesterday. As a matter of fact, I’m now the Bizarro Twisty. Yesterday I was a happy-go-lucky chump who gorged on rich food and loud rock’n'roll. Today I’m a cancerous decaffeinated vegetarian nonsmoking estrogenless square about to have an alarming percentage of my person amputated.
Although—and don’t tell anybody—I’m kinda jazzed about losing the boob. I don’t mean the surgery itself of course; that’s gonna suck shit through hefty bags. I mean that it’s been very odd sporting around town with just a single. One feels unbalanced. Lopsided. Preposterous. I don’t believe I’m capitulating to any inherently patriarchal aesthetic when I say that asymmetry, while desirable in Japanese flower arrangements, is conclusively unnerving when it comes to gazongas.
Other aspects of booblessness appeal to me as well, such as the prospect of chucking all those smush’em sports bras once and for all. Although I suspect that the novelty of going topless at my sister’s WASP-ass country club pool and giving the golden-haired bikini trophy wives a jolt will, sadly, wear off sooner or later.
____________________________
*My oncologist, by the way, is just hilarious.
Her: So, how’ve you been?
Me: Well, I sprained my knee and my ankle and I can barely—
Her: Unfortunately I can’t make you less clumsy.
Vegetarianism is not so bad. Lots of people do it willingly.
But the rest of it, eeeeek.
We love you, Twisty, you will still be 100% to us.
Dang, Twisty. So is now the right time to send you a knitted uterus filed with chocolate?
Shit, Twisty, just shit. Aside from the mind numbing fear of surgery, getting rid of the unnecessary bits with the propensity to explode seems a good idea. Fortunately Afganistan is in full production of the very poppy that will bliss you out during the slice and dice.
When we were young and stupider we tended to think being a mutant would be like Xmen or the Wonder Woman, totally cool. Now I think maybe BRAC2 is some antifeminist mutation cooked up by the patriarchy and distributed through contact with anything pink. Sorry, I am of the age that has lost too many friends to the cancers. Had a few bits of my own removed. Blech.
I know that I don’t know you but I feel that I know you and love you. Blunders off into schmaltz.
Holy shit, Twisty. That’s . . . that’s just awful. I’m so sorry. Goddamnfucking cancer mutation bastard.
Swearing doesn’t cause cancer, does it? You can keep swearing at it. The rest of us will help. Fucking hell.
Aw, Twisty, I’m so sorry.
Long time listener, first time caller. I’m sorry to hear your news and am wishing you health and wellness, for whatever wishes are worth.
I’m so sorry, Twisty. I’m concocting pharmacy-raids in my head so that you will feel no pain, ever. Another, completely self-centered part is thinking, “This means we get to keep you, right?”
Fucking hell.
Well crap. That’s the crappiest thing I’ve heard all week.
Maybe your oncologist flunked the Bedside Manner class.
I’m so, so sorry. English fails me. Hell, words fail me. I hope the surgery, the postoperatory etc goes smoothly.
Shit. That’s fucking awful. I’m so sorry you have to go through getting so much of your insides removed.
I know you have said that you used to be a vegetarian and then went to eating some meat that felt okay to you. Is the current vegetarianism due to the stupid fucking cancer?
will bizarro twisty be 100% evil, or an interesting conflicted evil? how would this be different again, exactly?
Now I think maybe BRAC2 is some antifeminist mutation cooked up by the patriarchy …
All hail the power of the human genome project, which enables us to pin the blame for disease on the individual with “BAD GENES” (and probably can be shown to have made some “POOR LIFESTYLE CHOICES” as well) and conveniently diminish the likely contributions of our fucked-up pseudo-estrogen-pesticide-&-chemical-filled environment to the development of cancer. Nope. It’s your BAD GENES and your POOR LIFESTYLE CHOICES, so we can’t possibly hold society, government, or industry responsible for THAT.
Ironically, there has been one study showing that “having two or more therapeutic abortions may be associated with a lowered risk of breast cancer among BRCA2 carriers” (Breast Cancer Res. 2006 Mar 21;8(2):R15). So there’s your problem right there, Twisty….maybe you haven’t had enough abortions! Suck on that, hateful patriarchy!!!
Long time lurker, first time blamer. That is just sucky news. Good luck with all the surgery.
I too have always thought it would be nice to be boobless. It would make things so much handier. The only method I have at hand to reduce their size is weight loss, but goodness, I’m counting my blessings now. Good luck… everything will be fine.
And really, vegetarianism isn’t really that bad at all.
Wow, the degree to which that sucks can’t be described without reference to black holes or scientific notation. I just don’t know what to say. “Sorry” doesn’t quite seem to cover it.
On the other hand, if anyone can deal with this it would be you. I just wish you didn’t have to.
I am so sorry that you have to deal with this Twisty. I won’t go all mushy on you. But I will hold good thoughts in my heart.
Twisty dearest,
I just read your last post, and I’m very sorry you have to go through more surgeries. That sucks, and not in a good way.
But on to my point, about your impending enforced vegetarianism: I have gathered from many of your posts that you are a fan of meat, and that you have had several questionable experiences with vegetarian/vegan cuisine. I sympathize, but as a half-my-life-long vegetarian, may I suggest two of my favorite little-known vegetarian cookbooks? To wit:
Paulette Mitchell, A Beautiful Bowl of Soup. I know you’re not thinking about soup in Texas right now, but it’s got to cool off sometime. Besides, there are recipes for chilled soups and dessert soups.
Tanya Petrovna, The Native Foods Restaurant Cookbook. Good foods, mostly vegan, with about half the recipes containing cunning meat analogs that actually taste good, rather than like drywall.
By the way, I tend to think of a veg diet as a good, healthy thing in general, but was there a specific reason you were perscribed this change?
It’s been nine years now since I’ve had my plumbing removed for fallopian tube (a form of ovarian) cancer and I haven’t missed it one bit. Estrogen I feel is highly overated and freedom from periods is pretty sweet. I still eat meat although I buy it from some local farms that are free- range no hormones.
Oh Twisty. What wreck, dr_igloo and the Sophist said. More too. All of it. Plus.
This post finally inspired me to register, because it isn’t possible to fling too much blame at the you-know-what for this. I hope your whole ordeal will be over after this.
Twisty, I have no doubt that you will conquer the suckitudinal transition and take on the mantle of your rock-n-roll mutant destiny! By getting rid of so much of the girl parts that the patriarchy would otherwise use against you, you will be that much more able to blame — and attack! — it with vigor.
Or not. In any event, sorry this has to be so terrible, but your wit and intelligence will be forever with you, and I hope they provide you with some comfort. If the knowledge that total strangers are pulling for you helps at all, know that you have my sympathies and best wishes for good painkillers.
That sucks. I’m sorry, Twisty.
The one (admittedly, not very) comforting thing about being a mutant, is that since they actually know the cause, breast cancer research is mostly focussed on ways to prevent/cure the 10% of cancer that is due to the BRCA2 mutation.
Twisty,
I dunno what to say. After all you’ve been through already it just isn’t fair!
damned fucking cancer. the news gives you some choices, but you don’t have to be happy about them, because they stink.
Hell’s bells, woman. There is truly no rest for the blamer, is there? I’m damn sorry about all this. I’m sure there’s no consolation in it, but August is the best month to spend indoors in Texas, hiding from the heat, knocked out on pain pills and watching TV. The rest of us won’t have your excuse.
Also, what dr igloo said. The patriarchy must be held accountable.
Fuck cancer! Cancer sucks Satan’s Cock! (–B. Hicks) And fuck vegetarianism too! And I am one! Fuck wabi-sabi uni-boobism! And totally fuck feng shui for that matter! Fuck the cockmongering white house! Fuck the military-industrial-complex and the pharmaceutical marketing departments! Fuck the money they stole from us and spent on war instead of medical research! Fuck their murdering bloody hands and what they did with them. And fuck the cocksucking Patriarchy! But totally, mainly fuckingly, fuck cancer!
But you should totally take dogged up on that knitted bag full of chocolate. Also, have you read E.F. Benson? I will happily donate the “Complete Works†to your convalescence. You might likey.
yrs, full of sorrow, full of Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! B. Dagger Lee
Twisty, so sorry to hear that you have to make such nasty decisions about your health.
You aren’t a mutant: you are a varaiant. Call yourself a deviant if that helps.
Also, fuck the insurance for not paying for the $4k genetic test.
Does your oncologist do open-mic night?
Sending good wishes for adequate medication, relaxing convalescence, and lovely vegetables (which is what one ought to be eating if one is vegetarian).
Aw crap.
On the bright side, does this mean you have to give up tofu?
Man, that does suck shit through hefty bags. But I hear you on the symmetry. You should ask the doctor to do her best to give you matching scars. Better to scare the country club ladies with.
Twisty, I’m so sorry. Fucking patriarchal fucking cancer fucking mutation fuck fuck. Fucking fucky fuck.
Let us know who else to swear at and when.
and $4K? For a few PCRs? Fuck that too.
Twisty, I’m just so sorry. Nothing more to say.
Oh, Twisty. I am so sorry. Though you don’t know me from Eve, this Texas ex-pat patriarchy-blamer is terribly disheartened and further outraged at the world upon hearing your news. First global warming, now this? To quote teenage girls the world over: WTF?!?!?! This sucks. Having experienced the misery that is breast surgery I can only begin to imagine how awful this is for you. I wish you skillful surgeons, comprehensive insurance, and no unpleasant side effects from the anesthesia/pain meds. If there’s anything you need from the Boston area (maple syrup? gay marriage?) I’ll do my best to send it along.
I’m sorry, Twisty. That just fucking sucks.
Well, fuck. I guess the rest of us blamers will have to take up a bit more of the load while you work on getting better.
This is crappy news and I am very annoyed with the Universe today.
Will there be an address to which we can send cards, rude knitted objects and other cheering things to while away your recovery?
Twisty…I am just pissed as hell at cancer…and that fucking asshole mutant gene. And the insurance industry.
I know you don’t know me, but I’ve become very attached to IBTP, and I want you to be healthy and happy.
If you want to throw a Blame Fest, just let me know. I’d rather party with the IBTP than the NOW folks next month in Albany. I need to hear that Manifesto again…it’s been awhile.
Shit, fuck, piss.
Be Happy, Twisty, at least they think they can do something positive for you. When hope is lost is the time to mourn.
You are wonderful and good, smart and fun. (I tell this to my daughter every night.)
Now you think I am a fundie, but no, fuck cancer. If that is the attitude that works for you.
attack it. fuck the government cutting funding to nih, etc etc.
I am so sorry. Dammit.
Man, that SUCKS.
As I’m sure you didn’t know before I told you.
Um… yeah. My sympathies to you.
Some days it’s not even worth chewing through the restraints. This is one of those days. Be well at the soonest.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Cancer sucks.
What else is there to say?
Another long time lurker here. Sorry doesn’t seem enough, but it’ll have to do for the moment. My thoughts stay with you.
Another lurker delurking.
You are in my thoughts. All my best wishes to you.
fuckity. fuckity fuckity fuckity fuckity fuck.
i totally blame the patriarchy.
I blame God.
“He” sucks.
This sucks.
Firstly, agreement with all the above comments. Fuck that sucks.
But also, you might want to get hold of a book called ‘The Breast Cancer Prevention Diet’ by Dr. Bob Arnot.
Alot of it is basic common sense/ healthy eating stuff along the lines of ‘Do more exercise!’ ‘Drink less alcohol!’. It also contains recomendations for foods, like soya and flax, that help prevent the breast cancer in clever sciency ways that I don’t understand.
Oh, and fuck your government too for making a potentially life-saving genetic test only available if you can cough up $4,000. I really don’t know how people live in the US…
Fucking entropic meat world, as Barista was heard to say recently. We’ll all be thinking of you in August.
I love you, Twisty, and admire you, and I am very sorry to hear this news.
Semi-lurker unlurking to add to the consensus of “fucks!” and “shit!”, and mostly the overwhelming fondness, admiration and best wishes on the occasion of this, another crap pie to the face.
Mutant, variant, hopped-up or sober, carniverous or cud-chewing, asymmetrical, un- or de-boobed, whatever, you’re a superhero as far as I’m concerned.
Blame On, blame long, and blame loudly, Twisty.
Goddamnit to HELL. Goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit. Twisty, you’re in my whatevers — my hopes, my…deeply caring thoughts. You know what I mean.
What about booze? Can you still drink? Booze is key.
Another lurker chiming in. I don’t post comments here too often. However, I read this blog pretty much daily, and I’m very sorry to hear this. My thoughts are with you and I am hoping for your good health and wellness.
Wishing you a speedy, painless recovery, and an undiminished appetite for blaming during your convalescence. If there is anything I send you from Japan (food or otherwise) let me know.
Twisty, This does suck indeed. I’m sorry you have to go through this. Stay strong, we’re behind you all the way.
FUCK!! I am so sorry to hear that Twisty. I wish there were more I could do. I am not good with words but your in my blessings to the goddess, and I will send healing hope to you!
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.. this isn’t fair.
:(
I’m so sorry.
Perhaps this is not the most appropriate time to stop lurking in shadows, but I just wanted to say that this sucks more than I can express with my limited vocabulary.
God, that’s just awful. And here in my ignorance of cancer and all things related, I thought the coast would be clear for you post-barbequeing :(
Hippie healing vibes your way.
Jesus Christ on a trisuit, Twisty, that is crappy news. I join with the other blamers to offer my undying love and support. And chocolate.
May I be the 58th or 59th person to say, essentially, well crap on a crap stick, Twisty. At any rate, here’s to symmetry!
Holy fuck. But from one mutant to another: Pause. Inhale. Don’t sign anything. Do some research.
First, I don’t understand why they say your uterus has to go. The last I heard, there’s no clear correlation between BRCA2 and endometrial cancer. The uterus is an organ that takes up important space, puts out some hormones, and otherwise is useful even among the baby-free. Hysterectomy is *major* surgery, and Bert would miss roping with/attempting to cripple you during your long recovery. Unless they’re planning to put you on tamoxifen, which increases uterine cancer risk.
Second, do lose the ovaries. I had mine out to reduce my risk of breast cancer (supposedly cutting my risk in half). I was sad to see them go but now miss them not at all. It was an outpatient procedure, and I believe I took one dose of painkiller the next day.
I’ve got a different flavor of BC gene, a defect on PTEN called Cowden’s Syndrome. And yeah, sure, you’re the same person. Right. Except that everywhere you look there are “normal” people going about their normal lives, while you’ve got a little warning light that flashes every time someone lights up next to you, your neighbor sprays pesticides on their lawn, the county decides to put up a medical waste incinerator, blah blah blah.
Patriarchy-blaming addendum to come.
The bit about Bert was supposed to be “romping.” Though he may pick up roping. I’m not privy to his plans.
and what sorts of things would best support you in continuing to blame, Twisty, and to shine?
Here’s one way the patriarchy comes into it: BRCA2 has been patented by Myriad, the company that “found” it. This means lots of things, including:
Myriad owns a little speck in each and every one of your cells. Thanks to our “everything is a product” mindset, if someone can make money from a gene, they can claim to own it and sell rights to it. Never mind that the gene is in your body and is in fact inseparable from you.
Since they “own” the gene, Myriad gets to charge whatever the hell they want to charge for the test that identifies it. This charge doesn’t appear to be based on the actual costs they incur in doing the test. Instead, it seems to be based on what women are willing to pay.
Myriad did a market research in about 1997, when the test was new. They had a contractor call high-risk women, including me, to ask them how much they would be willing to pay for such a test. They wanted to know how desperate we were to find out the truth and how much we would fork over to get the answer. (I told them I wouldn’t pay them one f*ing dime.) They don’t give a shit about whether our insurance will or won’t pay for the test. They just want to know what price they can get from their market.
Here’s a long list of links about Myriad and the patent issue:
http://www.cptech.org/ip/health/firm/myriad.html
Fuck. I’m sorry to hear this, Twisty.
Can’t say much that everybody else hasn’t expressed more eloquently (”fuckity fuck fuck”). I read this yesterday and couldn’t think of more than “aw shit!” Thinking that wasn’t expressive enough, I wrestled with my wording for a few hours, and still all I can say is, “aw, shit.”
Cripes, Twisty, very sorry to hear this.
Oh, jeeze, it’s all been said, all the sympathy and empathy and we’re with you in spirit, Twisty.
But there’s some patriarchy-blaming to be done here: What, recreational viagra is covered by insurance but a genetic test to save women’s lives isn’t? Bastards.
I add my voice to the chori of ah, shit, fuckity fuck, etc. You are amazing and wonderful and bad to the bone and the existence of the mutant gene and the crap you’ll be getting through in August changes this not one whit. that said, I do purely hate when Nietzche is right, misogynist ratbastard that he was. May the surgeries and aftermath go quickly and well, may the healing be speedy, the drugs better than average, and may your life (finally) get back to some semblance of normal. Twist on, chica…
Twisty, please allow this former lurker to add her voice to the chorus wishing you well and blaming the patriarchy.
Sola is right. The BRCA2 genes don’t particularly predispose to uterine cancer. And the uterus does have its uses beyond reproductive (still news to most gynes including women gynes unfortunately), including certain hormones, and taking up space. Once it’s removed, everthing in the pelvic cavity migrates, causing bladder and bowel problems. Hysterectomized women are particularly prone to urinary incontinence.
There can be other problems with hysterectomy, particularly depending on the gyne’s procedureal choice and his/her expertise as a surgeon: From a general surgeon:
“Urinary incontinence and prolapse are indeed recognized potential risks of
hysterectomy, vaginal or abdominal. Although, it is worth pointing out that
abdominal hysterectomy has only limited application these days. Likewise,
vaginal hysterectomy is a procedure that is too often done badly. GYN
surgeons COMMONLY omit the basic step of securing the vaginal cuff to the
uterosacral ligaments. State-of-the-art is laparoscopic assisted vaginal
hysterectomy (LAVH). In cases of non-malignant disease and no cervical
dysplasia, a supracervical hysterectomy would be preferred, in which case
prolapse is not an issue, nor would be urinary incontinence. {…}
One of the problems with the complications of GYN surgery is that that
surgery tends to be done by gynecologic surgeons. Of a 4 year residency, a
typical OB-GYN doctor will have a total of ONE year of surgery training. The
typical GYN surgeon is NOT a good surgeon, and those procedures should be
left to surgeons with specific training. Colporrhaphy, LAVH, virtually ALL
vaginal surgery and certainly all urogynecologic surgery is very difficult
and is simply too far beyond the training and resultant skill set of the
typical OB-GYN.
If I were going to have one of these procedures (I’m not)…the first
question I would ask my GYN surgeon is if he/she delivers babies. If he/she
says “yes”, then I would immediately find another surgeon. Surgery should be
done by surgeons, not someone who only does it part time, spending the rest
of their time doing obstetrics and primary care. ”
I post the above for you Twisty, but also other women reading here.
The speaker is a practising and teaching head surgeon of over 20 years experience.
I’ve already expressed my sorrow of this turn of events to you privately. I repeat that here. I’m breathless at your courage.
Aw, shit, Twisty. I’m sorry. This sucks rocks through a snot green bendy straw. If there is anything I can do, holler.
I blame the patriarchy for this one.
Everyone’s already said it all - and I agree with them.
This is total poo and it makes me want to cry so goodness knows how it must make you feel. Sending you much love and good vibes.
i’m so sorry, twisty. that really, really sucks. i wish there was something more i could do besides say i’m sorry, but know you’re in my thoughts.
xoxo, jared
Cancer bites. Surgery bites. Paying to find out that you gotta have the latter due to the former bites. I hope you can set up some way for us Twisty fans to send you food & music & books to make the whole experience slightly less nasty.
What they all said.
Oh, Twisty! Lucky you to have the opportunity to get rid of those parts before they get rid of you. If my dughter had known to do that, she’d still be my dughter, instead of my late daughter.
Go Twisty!
Me too about being pissed off at the cancer, I really wish you’d stop having to deal with it. You have better things you should be focusing on, such as Bert, or disturbing squash dishes.
Also, thank you for the links to the Johnny Magnet songs. I’ve got the five you’ve given us on my iPod, and whatever weird mood I’m in, I’ve never skipped over them. So, keep on keeping on, you’re an asset to society and all.
Twisty, I love you.
Twisty, I lurk occasionally but I wanted to leave you a note to say that I’m sorry you got such bad news. Be kind to yourself.
Love.
All the LOVE in the world to you, Twisty, you warrior you.
Twisty …
Big hugs to you.
Forgive the cliched, cornball expression.
The sentiment is genuine.
Another thought: If you need a second opinion from a surgeon, Dr. Fleming at Surgical Associates of Austin (in the St. David’s center) is really good, and specializes in cancer surgeries. He’s done three surgeries on me (for three different problems) and I’ve been nothing but happy with the attention he pays to patients and his apparent surgical skill. And every nurse I’ve talked to in town likes him. That means a lot. More info at http://www.surgicalassociatesaustin.com/index.html
Love, love, love from the midwest.
I so much wish you the best. Un abrazo muy fuerte, querida Twisty.
working through the stages here — got through speechless and to pissed off, but i left out: ((((( twisty )))))
Crappy news Twisty - I’m sorry to hear this. I hope the surgeries go well. Is there stuff you have to do to prepare beforehand? Do they at least give you a break from the chemo and/or radiation?
Awww … bollocks. BRCA2 is a piece of shit and no two ways about it.
Now … pancreatic cancer is what I’m studying for my PhD (though I’ve only just started) - and knowing you’re predisposed to it is a step in the right direction, since the usual problem with stopping it is that’s it’s often too far gone to do much about it once you realize it’s there. I don’t know much about the clincal aspects of the disease - can you get screened? (often??) Do you know if both copies of your Kras gene are intact? That’s a big ‘un to watch for. It’s also been suggested that diets rich in white wine and capsaicin (and, yes, low in meat) lower your risk for pancreatic cancer, though that link hasn’t been proven for sure (can’t hurt, right?)
Take care — we’ll be thinking of you.
[[beaming positive thoughts and mantras for health at Twisty*]]
* This is what I do instead of prayer, since I’m not entirely sure that god/goddess/thingie exists or doesn’t.
*cursing*
I don’t give a damn what parts of you are or aren’t in a biohazard bag somewhere. I admire and respect you, and love you a bit too, and wish you the best.
*more cursing*
Not to be a pain in the ongoing progressive movement, but I think you should get a second opinion by an alternative health care movement practitioner. Eg: herbalism, homeopathy, Goethean science.I have never met a doctor yet in my 57 years that does not use fear of cancer as a means of getting his/her patients to do as as they are told.
It won’t hurt and you can make a more reasoned decision as what you want to do.
Fuck. Shit. Damn. But live twisty, live. Forget homeopathy, it’s gene, not patriarchy-induced stress. Or do both. But whatever you choose,
STAY WITH US.
Yes, orders from someone who does not know you.
Twisty, you’ve got a lot of girlfriends!
The only good thing is that we can now refer to you as ‘Our Mutant Patriarchy Blaming Overlor-lad-person’.
The mutation isn’t even yours - the docbags even have the patent on your mutation:
http://genomebiology.com/researchnews/default.asp?arx_id=gb-spotlight-20040213-01
I’m fairly confident that the peddlers of various cures mean well, and are expressing their distress the only way they know how. I’m similarly confident that if Twisty had wanted medical advice here, she would have bloody well asked for it.
There’s nothing to say that isn’t corny or sweary, but as a long-term fan I’m profoundly sorry to hear this, my thoughts are with you, & please don’t stop writing because you’re sublime whatever bits you’re made up of.
One more thing. Cancer is an idiot. With all the fuckards in the world, it picks you? Just not right.
I’m saving my massive Twisty tribute for a happier occasion. I hope you can hang in there, and that the supposed treatment doesn’t turn you into an ascetic. The NCI stuff I was reading said alcohol should be reduced and of course the ol’ exercise, but it didn’t say anything about taco consumption, so I can’t see tacos being out. If you have to give up tacos, I will never speak of them again. They will not exist for me electronically anymore.
I feel a little stupid trying to express how much I appreciate your internet manifestation of yourself (in fact I am certain you must be the same in person, except probably more), and how much I want for you to be OK, or as OK as you can be under this cloud. But there it is. If I do not sound serious it is because I am only trying to lighten the mood. This is what I feel you do for me. Most of the time, even when you are deadly serious, TF, you seem to effortlessly express your rage, emotion , thoughts, feelings everything is this lighter than air concoction that just totally hits me.
That does not consist of my aforementioned massive Twisty tribute. That one has lasers. A fluorescent marijuana leaf poster and a HELL of a lot of Blamingâ„¢.
Twisty, I am so very sorry to hear this. Wishing you the very speediest and most painless recovery possible.
Tracy Bonham says it. When I figure out how to send someone a whole song without having to pirate it, you will be the first to get this one from me, Twisty.
Shine
Tracy Bonham
Laying flat on our backs, picking our favorite stars
We try shining back from this roof of ours
But after a while, you say it seems pretty far
I think you forgot how bright you are.
Shine, shimmering, you shine
Shine, shimmering, you shine.
It’s been one hell of a year
The sky is battered and bruised
but I’m still hanging on all because of you.
Cause you held up the sun
and you never let go
The world needs you now, more than you’ll ever know.
Shine, shimmering, you shine
Shine, shimmering, you shine.
shimmering you shine
shimmering you shine
The northern pines, and our teenage sky, is still in your eyes.
When we’re eighty years old
And you can’t see a thing
You musn’t forget how much light you bring
Shine shimmer and you shine
Brightly you will shine
Shine shine, shimmer and you shine.
Booblessness rocks! cancer “sucks shit through hefty bags” indeed. What a magical turn of phrase! My usual urking seemed inappropriate today so I have popped out to say good luck. Pippa x
Twisty, I just want to let you know how much I appreciate this blog and your writing on it. I’m an atheist, so I can’t pray for you, but I’d like to send you my love and best wishes instead.
I’d also like to add my voice to those who have already written about getting more medical advice before going through with such radical surgery. In the words of my pathologist father, “Doctors don’t know anything.” Especially when it comes to women, they often try to push us into treatments that are way more radical than we actually need, just because those are final solutions to problems that only *might* occur.
As always, I blame the patriarchy.
Twisty, you’re a fucking warrior. Keep on livin.
You kick my ass into gear and inspire me daily. Much love to you.
I’m so sorry Twisty. There really are not words for the suckage. I love the idea of your shocking the golden-haired wives, but I hate the idea of why you’ll be able to do so.
Love you, like all the rest above me. You’ll be in my thoughts.
Welcome to the BRCA2 club, Twisty. Although we are mutants, we are super powerful X-Men type mutants - we just choose not to flaunt our powers.
Much love.
Yet another long time lurker delurking to add another howl of protest at what you are going through, Twisty. Fuck cancer, fuck the surgery, double-fuck the bastards who make money off all of this and a big hell-yeah to blaming the ever fucking sucky patriarchy.
Big hugs from me and Bearcub
When I don’t know what to say and saying nothing isn’t an option, I cook. With God as my witness, I’m making you a proper tea spread with something on the side for Bert. You relax and get better before we find you a Bolivian housemaid to tend to your every need.
Yikes! I’m sorry to hear that my favorite blogger has to endure more tribulations. It all sounds horrible. Here’s to hoping that you make it through your surgeries with flying colors and your trademark Twisty panache! Make sure to eat something inspiring before you go under the knife. Preferably something that wouldn’t be described as a “thing.”
Forgive me for going off the topic of cancer cursing and well wishing, all fine and appropriate pursuits, especially under the current circumstances, but I’ve just gotta ask —
Twisty, what in hell is that green thing on top of the above-pictured vegetable pile? Maybe it’s just that my monitor is dying, but speaking of mutants, whatever that really was, here it looks like a little green plastic army man who found himself on the business end of a cigarette lighter and who, now honorably discharged from his original purpose, is dancing off that pile to go see if he can have himself a little walk on the wild side.
There’s nothing that can be said that hasn’t already been said. So what they all said plus 1.
Twisty,
Your happy readers (and senders of all good energy) are legion. Ever growing list of well wishers is witness to the fact. Your caustic humour and spot on analysis keep so many of us going - I hope that knowing you are held in our good thoughts will be a source of strength for you. And Bert. Dogs are magic.
Take care, we are with you in spirit.
Oh crikey, Twisty, I’m so sorry. Sending you good wishes, good vibes, whatever might help.
Aw shit! I love you Twisty. This makes me want to drink and it’s only 11.
oh, also, “cogumelos do sol” are these mushrooms that only grow in a certain part of brazil that have been show to bolster the immune system’s first responder cells that eat bad cancer cells. sadly, no hallucinogenic effects, but the people of that region (above sao paolo) live to be like 112 all the time.
Oh Twisty, I’m so so so sorry. This blows. Please heal (twisty) fast(er).
I’m so sorry, Twisty. I’ll be thinking of you, and blaming the patriarchy.
Yet another lurker delurking.
Another delurking. Thank you Twisty. Sending many best wishes.
So many of us here who have never even met you, and yet we adore you, admire you, and
want you well and happy. In the face of these latest indignities, please know that you’re making the world a brighter, richer, and more eloquently chronicled place with your inimitable Twisty spirit. We are all sad today because you have to go through yet more hell.
(also, I’m with the commenters who said lose the ovaries but keep the uterus.
It seems to be the thing to do among the “at risk for various crud” crowd.)
Less is more, dear Twisty.
A streamlined Twisty will certainly emerge from this crap, and we’ll be here to cheer you on every day.
Good gawd, Twisty, how discouraging. Wrong, wrong, wrong. And you know who I blame-they must be tangled up in this somehow. Great love and positive thoughts coming your way from Memphis.
Another erstwhile lurker coming out of the woodwork to wish you well, Twisty. I hope that if there’s anything the Blamer community can do that would help, you won’t hesitate to ask.
Another lurker. Saying the obvious: fuckity fuck.
Twisty,
Just adding my voice to the chorus. You just by being you have done so much for me. If there’s anything I can ever do for you, just ask. I’m in Chicago. Just ask.
Artemis
I’d like to add to the outpouring of love and best wishes too. Good luck with it all. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be. All these comments shows that you have a huge readership that admires you greatly, and everyone hopes things start to turn around for you soon.
Twisty, and anyone else out there who is predisposed (like me) to ovarian cancer.
DRINK TEA! (Especially if you like it anyway.)
I heard about this on a radio program a few months ago; drinking 2 cups of tea a day significantly reduces your risk of ovarian cancer. The more tea you drink, the more you lower your risk.
Here’s an article:
http://www.medindia.net/news/view_news_main.asp?x=6433&t=1
And what appears to be the study itself:
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/entrez/query.fcgi?cmd=Retrieve&db=pubmed&dopt=Abstract&list_uids=16344429&query_hl=2&itool=pubmed_docsum
And also, Twisty, you have my sympathies, and my prayers (unless you don’t want those).
Damn!!
I’ve just come back to catch up on my blaming, I scrolled down to read the oldest stuff first, and Damn!
Cute cow, although not yours; Cool, a great new HQ in a fabulous location; Oh fuck! more cancer!
You are in my heart and thoughts.
Twisty,
I’ve been reading and enjoying your blog for months, but have been conscious of following the “Twisty Rules” and felt I had a lot to learn from all the experienced blamers (esp you!) prior to posting. I’ve definitely learned a lot reading this blog over the past six months!
Anyway, I read your news about the cancer yesterday and decided today that, although I still consider myself a blaming-apprentice, I wanted to embark upon my first comment in order to echo the sentiments expressed by the others: Stupid cancer.
eroc.
Deploying many f-bombs upon reading Twisty’s news. Damn.
Damn, damn, damn. I keep coming back here, and I don’t know what to say except I am so sorry, and this makes me so angry and nauseated and I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like for you. If there is anything that those of us in Imaginary Internetsland can do, you will tell us, won’t you?
This is the perfect time to begin planning the excellent tattoos you may want to apply to the boobal area post surgery. I have a friend who is a breast cancer survivor and her tattoo is amazing. And, I believe the lack of an actual nipple makes it totally not a problem to parade around showing off the said excellent tattoos.
I am a poor participator with lackadaisical grammar so I have never posted here before. However, I was kicked out of girl scouts when I was 9 for bitterly complaining before each camping trip about the agreed upon menu, a disgusting dish called “fractured senoritas” so I consider myself a fairly accomplished complainer and a bitter one at that.
I would like to start out by bitterly complaining about meat analogues, please don’t go there, even if you have to skip a meal or two you won’t starve to death
I have complained bitterly about cancer for the last 20 years, as it has removed body parts, dignity and mobility from my mom while leaving little else but scar tissue, pain and a lovely voice that calls up for my recipe for lemon meringue pie, or apple crisp or the carmelized onions that I once made for her served with rice and lentils, and do I “think dad could learn to make it”. Luckily dad can learn to make anything.
She can’t eat meat either but a food lover will survive, especially one who refuses to miss dinner.
Good luck and thank you for the incisive blaming.
Anyone know where we can lodge a formal complaint? I’d gladly walk a mile in stilettos (or break a leg trying) if there’s a commission somewhere that can reverse your mutant ruling in exhange.
much love from mississippi.
Oh Twisty!
I hate to say it, but you are facing this next bout of surgery with something akin to the “positive mental attide” that we all mocked when you first got hit by the double blows of cancer and cancer medical professionals.
Best of luck and everything.
This is my first comment too, but I felt compelled to write. Twisty, you rock! Hang in there!
You can do it, Twisty. The human body can adjust in crazy, miraculous ways. Yoga and Qi Gong can help alot, but you’ll figure out what’s best for you.
You can do it.
Twisty, I just want to say I have a large organic garden full of Organic Vegetables, and I would be honored to bring you whatever I have, throughout the year! Being a vegetarian is better if you can at LEAST have fresh from the earth organic ones.
Right now I have a lot of LEEKS. And Mint.
I think I live near you (in South Austin?) just email me if you would like any. Also this offer stands throughout the year ! (There is a lot more to be had in the winter)(although by then you may be in Johnson City).
Truth is, Twisty, that I always had you figured for a mutant - but as a superhero kind of mutant, like the X-Men, using your powers of Extraordinary Critical Thinking, MegaMockery and UltraSarcasm to fight evil.
Very sorry you have to endure more medical unpleasantness. You’ve already shown that you’re tough, and I’m betting you’ll come through OK. And I’m sure I won’t be the only person here in the STL keeping a good thought for you, for whatever that’s worth. Hang in there.
Also delurking to say fuck the fucking cancer, the $4000 mutation, and all the medical procedures to follow. I’m so sorry, Twisty. Can you feel teh internets lining up behind you to offer our support? If not, I totally blame the patriarchy.
God damn.
I pray to all the gods I don’t believe in (and that’s a whole lot of gods) that you will weather this shitstorm.
God fucking damn it!!!
Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Forgive the dodging of the rules this one time, although I’ve lurked a while. I’m not an advanc