she's
actual
size

I had an entry all outlined in my head today while I was driving home. A rather somber piece, one of those incidents that's funny when you look back on it years later, but certainly Not Funny At All now. All that flew out the window when I got home.

I grabbed the mail on my way in the door and saw that my answering machine was flashing. I hit the button while I sorted through my mail.

"Call me as soon as you can," said my mother's voice on the tape. "I'll be up until midnight."

I knew it was something bad, but I was very much hoping that I'd just gotten some strange piece of mail again. I called my parents. They both answered; my dad hung up and I was left to talk to my mother.

"I spoke with Min today," said my mom. "Her biopsy came back positive, and she's going to have surgery."

Fuck.

Back in January, my little sister found out that her Pap smear had come back abnormal. She went back in for another test. Abnormal. They did a biopsy of her cervix.

She has cancer. My twenty-three year old sister has cancer.

Ok, so it's in the very early stages. She won't need a hysterectomy (yet). I wasn't able to get the details from my mom, but I do know that they're only going to remove a portion of her cervix. She hasn't scheduled the surgery yet.

"Anyway," my mother continued. "Min specifically asked me to tell you to get a Pap smear done."

Heh. Yeah. Haven't gotten around to that yet.

After getting off the phone with my mom, I called Sammy. She's pretty knowledgeable about these things, and I wanted to pick her brain about this. But she wasn't home, and I had to talk to someone. My little sister has cancer, damnit!

I called Dave.

When he answered the phone, I was a bit distressed. Over the long distance between us, I sobbed out the story. I wished like hell that he were here. He told me that he wished he were here. I had to comfort myself with just hearing his voice.

Over all this, a voice in my head kept singing cancer your cancer little cancer sister cancer has cancer.

I talked to Dave for about an hour before saying goodbye. Then I hopped online, said "hi" to Dave again, and did a search for cervical cancer.

It's hot here. Muggy, windless and oppressively hot, even after the sun has set. But I felt cold.

I have several of the symptoms listed for cervical cancer.

And there was a note in my email from Min. She's at work now, but she emailed me earlier today. "Get checked," she wrote, simply. "Please."

Yeah. I will. I promise, Min.