Grrrs And Greats – Tumor Edition

Next to writing, reading is the most important job requirement for a blogger. As far as I can tell, these are the top five demands of the job:

  1. Write
  2. Read
  3. Consume copious amounts of caffeine
  4. Guilt your friends and family into reading and sharing your stuff
  5. Occasionally curl up into the fetal position and question your worth as a human

But, let’s get back to the reading part. I spend most every morning either writing for my blog or reading other people’s blogs, some mornings I do both. There’s a lot of great content out there that I find inspires more than my writing. Case in point, this post from Coach Daddy – Seeing the World Through Grrs and GreatsGo on, just click the link. It’ll open up in another window. Then, you’ll come back here, we’ll reunite like long lost loves and we’ll carry on with the show. 

My sister often tells me I have high class problems, which is her loving way of telling me I’m a whiny bitch. And, truth be told, I kinda am. Part of the reason why I started this blog was to remind myself of all the lessons I learned from being seriously ill for years. I’ve seen how quickly one can go from everything is amazing because I can walk again to WHY THE FUCK IS THIS DISHWASHER SO STUPID?!!!!

And that is a perfect example of grrrs and greats:

Grrr: My dishwasher is so fucking stupid and small and doesn’t properly dry my dishes and I think I’m going to drop it off the side of a mountain one day because they’re already going to take my security deposit since I ruined the stove, so why not go for broke and murder all the appliances.

Great: At least I have a dishwasher. My mother had six kids and spent every evening of her life washing a mountain of dishes because her husband didn’t “believe” in dishwashers and all her children were lazy and insufferable.

For the purposes of today’s post on this very blog, I am going to limit my grrrs and greats to only desmoid tumor related matters. I mean, that is kind of the whole point of this blog, am I right? No, seriously, I’m asking you. Some days I have no idea what I’m even doing here. Ok, just checked my About page. It tells me that is what that whole point of this blog is. Without further ado, what you’ve all been waiting for, please put your hands together for:

Grrrs And Greats – Tumor Edition!!!!!!!!!!

Grrr: Waking up from surgery in excruciating pain.

Great: Getting the good meds.


Grrr: Having some douchebag, hotshot surgery student tell you to get out of bed and walk a few hours after surgery because “you’ve got nothing better to do” today.

Great: Unapologetically telling him to fuck off and having the other surgical student restore your faith in humanity the next day by holding your hand while you cry in pain. Bonus great: walking for her and knocking it out of the park.


Grrr: Having a surgery you didn’t need that completely altered your life and set your treatment back years.

Great: Having the opportunity to understand what it feels like to lose your mobility and be grateful for each step while learning how to both stick up for yourself and forgive yourself.


Grrr: Having to go through excruciating physical therapy.

Great: Meeting medical professionals along the way that are highly skilled, professional, and supportive beyond measure. And, having a cane gives one so many opportunities to tell those pimp jokes that would otherwise go unused.


Grrr: Being effectively sidelined from your life for years while you’re saddled with surgery and treatments that suck the joy from your marrow.

Great: Knowing what being a friend truly means, making you truly grateful for their sacrifices while simultaneously learning how you can be better for them.


Grrr: Being diagnosed with something so rare you realize you will never just happen upon another person with the same diagnosis.

Great: Living in an age where you can type #desmoidtumor into practically any search box in practically any social media site and find people who will uplift, support, and help guide you through what seems like an impossible task.


Grrr: Shriveling up from the inside out during a year on Tamoxifen.

Great: Finding out what all the hubbub is about menopause and knowing you don’t have to go through it for at least a few more years.


Grrr: Enduring the side effects of oral chemo for over a year.

Great: Getting to smoke weed. And, poop jokes.


Grrr: Being diagnosed with this son of a bitch of a tumor that scares the hell out of you every damn day.

Great: Being able to get out of basically any social obligation by uttering the words, “I’ve got a tumor.”

I’d like to thank Coach Daddy for the inspiration for this post and the encouragement to write it.  If you’re so inclined, I’d love to read your Grrr/Great posts on your blog or some Grrr/Great comments on this one. If you’re not so inclined, I’d love to see you try to find the silver lining in whatever shitastic thing happens to you today because there’s always a silver lining, even if it takes you years to find it.