The Big "C" Theory

Knowing in my mind that something was terribly wrong with me was one thing but to actually go to a doctor and have that proven to me was a whole other matter. Call it denial if you will but I did have it for awhile, a long while. I kept telling myself "I'm not sick so therefore nothing is wrong with me" but all awhile running through my mind are the questions. Why the weight loss, why the lack of energy, why the feelings of hopelessness?

I know the reason for hopelessness, you see I thought I was dying. I even knew what was wrong with me. Yup, I had the big "C". It's time to interject some family history here so maybe you can better understand my reasons for not seeking medical advice
.
I'm the youngest of six children. My father was the barber of our town. (yes, it really was a town back then) My mother was a stay-at-home mom in the early years. The four oldest children were born one after another, then there was a nine year drought. Then my brother Gerald came along and almost two years later out I came. The family legend as told to us by our older siblings was that Gerald was an accident and they had me just so he wouldn't get too spoiled. LOL I always knew this wasn't the true, coming from a very strict Roman Catholic family. I knew my parents didn't believe in birth control except for maybe the "rhythm method". Haha just look at the size of RC families back in the day, to see how that worked.


I was only five years old when Joe the second oldest got married. Followed two years later by Vernon and a month after him Lloyd. My only sister Mary elected not to get married the smart one haha. For the purpose of this story we will discuss Joe. Growing up he was my hero almost God-like. When I was young he spoiled me, took me everywhere with him fishing, for drives in his car, ice-fishing, even on dates to the drive-in movies with his soon to be wife Erma. They didn't have to worry though cause I was asleep before the cartoons were over. LOL During my teenage years I babysit their kids for them.

In the fall of 1989 Joe was diagnosed with CANCER. After a very long year of Chemotherapy and Radiation sucking the life out of him, worse than any cancer could. Giving us false hope. Joe died on Dec,8,1990. After watching my hero go through such sickness and pain, I vowed then and there that I would never do Chemo. As far as I was concerned a person was better off not knowing you had cancer if Chemo was your only treatment
.
Hence, my reluctance to go to the doctor. I believed I had some form of Cancer.