was in the bookstore the other day and I saw a woman who appeared to be pregnant perusing a book on pregnancy. It wasn’t a for-dummies book, it was a fairly leaned tome, which means lots of words, not many pictures. But still, even though I’m a man without kids, I figured I should weigh in on this, just so she had my take on this whole “baby” and “birthing” thing. After all, I’m trying to help, right? So I went up to her and said, “Oh, you have one in the oven…?”

Cringing yet?

I’m giving you this allegory to make a point – no, this didn’t happen as described. But what did happen was that I was diagnosed with cancer a half-year back. It’s not too bad (other than it’s fucking cancer). But trust me, until you look down the barrel of this, you have no earthly idea of what it’s like. And giving your “two cents”, “weighing in”, all that shit, well, it’s unwanted and actually insulting.

So yes, I’ve been to several specialists and, working closely with my retired-doctor sister, I’ve decided on the best option for me. I’m not happy about it (it’s one of the reasons I’m up writing at 5am, because I’m scared, frustrated, angry, upset, and every other emotion there is). The big C has been on my mind every day (if not every minute) of the past half-year.

And so when someone calls me and asks if I’ve thought my decision through, if I’m possibly being too blasé in this, it really, really, really to an exponential power pisses me off. I just sat there and listened to what was said and found my teeth grinding. Had I carefully considered my options?

Fuck you.

That’s one option, at least.

And actually, it wasn’t one person – two people have done this. And both times, their “well-meaning” concern threw me into depression. I’m going under the robot’s knife in a matter of weeks. Things are getting lined up and moving forward. My doctor is one of the best in the world at this procedure. So no, your input is not requested. It’s actually resented.

Possibly I shouldn’t have written this – it is a public blog, of course. But it’s a matter of media (the communication between people). It’s important to me. After all, it’s 5:53 AM while I’m writing this, and I’m up feeling horrible about it. So no, it’s not acceptable to put your hand on some woman’s belly to feel the baby kick. Nor is it acceptable to weigh in on someone’s difficult, angry, upsetting, and life-changing medical decision.

Support? Yes.

Your take on it?

Fuck you.

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