Further research on my part shows that the doc sticks that cold duckbill thing in the vagina, spreads it open big enough for two city buses to fit, and then takes the "smear".
Perhaps, just maybe, it could be possible that the doc opened the wrong hole, and that Plush actually has ass cancer, and not uterine cancer. Would that make things any better??
Further research on my part shows that the doc sticks that cold duckbill thing in the vagina, spreads it open big enough for two city buses to fit, and then takes the "smear".
Perhaps, just maybe, it could be possible that the doc opened the wrong hole, and that Plush actually has ass cancer, and not uterine cancer. Would that make things any better??
Any news? I know what you are going through. Its been 2yrs since my diagnosis. I was never more scared in my entire life. I broke down the night before surgery while at work and called my Dad at 3am. I wish you all the luck in the world.
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My thoughts are with you. My uncle was just diagnosed with cancer for the second time, and its squamous cell - they worst kind. The Doctor told him he had already had all the radiation that any human should have in his lifetime and it didn't look very treatable anway. Fuck Him! (the doctor)
I got drunk with him and my aunt a few times last week when I was in CO on vacation... thats the first step I guess.
Then get a good attitude. Thats a HUGE part of treatment, or so I think.