Technically I’m not supposed to talk about this yet. That’s what all the books say. But I tell you people when I have a yeast infection or a funny smelling belly button. How am I not going to tell you that this happened?
I know. The fuck. Actually “the fuck” is what got me into this situation I suppose.
And yes, there’s still a lot that could go horribly, horribly wrong. I know that. And I keep telling myself that the worst thing all those leftover chemo drugs could do would be give the little alien superhero powers, right? And honestly, if something bad happens, I’m probably going to want to talk about that, too. So it’s better to just stick with my usual approach to life and projectile vomit all my thoughts, right?
The only thing harder than not telling people, is figuring out how to tell people. Apparently I suck at it. That or my friends aren’t real bright. You decide.
Me: So you know how I have a tendency to grow strange things in my body that then somehow have to be removed from my body in generally unpleasant ways?
Gwen: Oh God no.
Me: Oh no! No more cancer, pookie. I just have a parasite.
Gwen: Oh thank God. You scared me. Wait…a what? What kind of parasite?
Me: Its in my uterus.
Gwen: Who the hell gets a parasite in their uterus? Are you making that up? What did you do? How did it get there?
Me: Um, Rocco put it there.
Rocco’s a little better at it.
Rocco: I knocked your sister up.
Thom: Way to use the front hole.
We’re doomed, Interwebz.
Don’t panic. I have no intention of getting all mommy blogger on you (not that there’s anything wrong with that – cue the hate mail). I just might have to occasionally share little anecdotes about how fucking weird this is. I mean, I’ve always thought of my vagina as a punch line…not a “birth canal” or a “portal through which alien life forms will enter our universe and overpower the human race.”
Can you tell I’m having trouble processing.
For example, I signed up for one of those newsletter things that emails you every week to tell you what’s happening in your portal…er uterus, right? This one just came today:
I know, it’s really hard to read. Let me summarize the contents for you. It says I have a tiny blue smurf. With fins. And a tail. In my uterus.
And it’s doubling in size each week.
On the upside, I’m pretty sure it’s Rocco’s. I sure hope so since he’s already referring to it as his “fuck trophy.”
Did I mention yet how very doomed we are?