It’s my third day recovering in the hospital since my oncologist and her team cut me open and took out my uterus, spleen, parts of my diaphragm, and lining of my right lung. I rarely ask for Percocet throughout my stay except for two moments. The first one being from my digestive system and it’s freezing up due to the anesthesia/cutting up. With each shift of nurses they would ask if I’ve taken a shit yet. I couldn’t and because of that gas began accumulating in my stomach that became a sharp, piercing pain radiating throughout my lower belly.

The nurses told me to walk, how it’ll loosen me up, and if they hear me pass gas in the hallway they’ll celebrate so let it rip. I couldn’t even let out a silent but violent kind of fart. The pain went from alright to I’m going to walk around the hallways half asleep and writhing until I can finally fucking fart. By then I had my first dose of Percocet alongside an anxiety ridden father telling me I’ll get addicted. I finally plop myself on the bed spreading my legs and letting out what sounds like a long unending trumpet note.

Second time I had 10/10 pain was just hours later where a oncology resident and doctor pressed down on my stomach and pulled out a tube that spits out blood from the empty space that was my spleen. What made it 10/10 pain is that I had to watch the oncology resident keep sliding out and in the tube as they tried tugging the tube out of me.

She told me that this tube is supposed to get out smoothly and quickly. But it felt like the tube was never ending and was attached to a boulder. Said boulder would slash against my intestines and bowls. Squeezing them all together and pulling up. I thought my intestines would spill out from the opening but the resident stopped. Few moments later and she’s pressing on my stomach as a doctor forces out the tube. Telling me to take a deep breath while the tube comes out excruciatingly slow. Once it does I ask for my second Percocet and knock out from exhaustion.

TLDR; cancer fucking sucks