Seven years ago, a girl with an oxygen tank wasn't annoyed enough with me to let me try it out in the middle of a mall. Seven years to now, I, Jo Lincoin am still kicking. Despite the fact that I've been diagnosed with some kind of fancy cancer that's basically ruined my life, I am still kicking ass.
Seven years ago that teenage girl had cancer, but she still took the time to amuse me while my mother did whatever god knows what. At the time, I didn't know. But thinking back on it, se kinda freaked me out with the whole oxygen tank thing.
"How are we doing today?" the doctor asked me.
"Fine." I muttered. My father was sitting in one of those annoying plastic chairs in the exam room. He looked up from his book and gave me an evil eye that screamed "Behave!"
"I am fully functioning to most levels of highest mangement, and I feel perhaps better then I have in weeks, thank you for asking." I ended with a smile and my father looked back down at his book.
"Good to hear. Now as you know, Jo, Renal Cell cancer-." I cut in.
"It's okay, you can say kidney cancer. I know what it means."
"Ah, kidney cancer." he looked at me, unsure. I nodded and gave him a little smile. He went on.
"Can be treated in a varity of diffrent ways. We realize you applied for a kidney transplant, and were on the waiting list." I nodded. My father (who is actually my stepfather) wasn't a match for me, and my mother already had donated a kidney when I was smaller. And thus, the waiting list of recive an organ appeared.
"We have yet to find a donor with a match for you. I'm sorry."
Ah, crap. I thought to myself. That was really the only part I was really paying attention to. The rest of the checkup passed in a blkur, as life normally did. My kidneys were absoulte crap pieces.
Sometimes I wonder if God did it to me on purpose. Sometimes I think that the entire world is just like The Sims to God, just so he can pull shit like this and dealing me out a bad pair of parts.
When I was seven years old, my eldest sister Gina died. I don't remember a lot of the funeral, except for the fact that everyone was crying. And you would have thought that it would have been raining like it would be in the movies, right? Like the entire freaking world would be crying for the loss of my sister?
HAHAHAHA- NOPE! That was the day the universe laughed in my face, and maybe punched it too. It was like a freaking postcard in the graveyard, full of people wearing black and mourning. The day I discovered I had cancer through a VERY interesting MRI scan was the day the universe punched my PARENTS in the face. They were freaking out at the fact that both of their daughters wouldn't survive untilk adulthood.
And honestly, I might not. I think I've pretty much come to terms with the whole 'I'm gonna die' thing.
My best friend in the entire world, Farkle, who has cancer in his freaking EARS once told me something about disconnecting himself to make sure when he dies that it will minimize grief when he dies, but I don't really think that way. In my case, I wsant my funeral to b3e happy. It's not the fact that I died, it's the fact that my folks were freaking lucky enough to have a kid as awesome as me touch their lives for a few years.
So what does Farkle know? Though I feel bad for him, but not in the cancer way. Like the life way. He's gay, and only myself and his boyfriend know about it. His parents are straight up read from the bible and hit your kids in the face kinda people. So are my parents, but I'm sure that if I was gay they'd be cool with it.
Cancer Perk No.1
Plus, his boyfriend's parens are like tha too, so all they can do is makeout in my basement while their parents and my parents have a bible study night.
I don't really mind, but sometimes it sucks being the third wheel. It just really shines a light on how NOT socially accepted I am.
So go ahead, universe. Laugh it up.
But when I die, I'm warning you.
I'm not going without punching YOU in the face.
You asshole.
