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  • Kathryn Wright

I'm Always Wright.

My favorite phrase to use when I'm losing an argument is to stick with the facts.


Go with what I know.


Aka I'm right. Wright? Right.


I mean that literally...I mean, legally "I'm (W)right." My birth certificate literally confirms this. Hashtag end scene. Hashtag I win. Hashtag you lose. Call me Brady...I always take the W (aside from that one Eagles year...FML. Hopefully this isn't my Eagles year?). But yeah, I am always right.


...See why my best friend calls me an annoying cunt? It's true.


I mean...after years of "Katie Left" or "Katie Wrong"...yeah, NEVER heard that one before (Yes, yes...you are so funny. You should quit your day job and become a comedian. What would this world do without you and this super original joke Ihaveabsolutelynevereverheardbefore? I bow down to you, god of comedy.)


So, I decided to embrace the wordplay of my last name. Yup! I'm Kathryn Wright. Which means I'm always right. HA! Take that world.


But now, I wish I was wrong. I don't want to be right.


Because I was right.


It's spread.


I have breast cancer.


Which has possibly metastasized to my lungs. More tests/scans/bullshit tomorrow.


...Hormone's my fucking ass.


I'm sure you've picked up on the fact that sarcasm and irony are current coping mechanisms for me. I mean...this has always been true, but kind of kicked into overdrive considering current circumstances.


Aka the irony that I am named after my grandmother, who I was never able to meet because she passed away from breast cancer before I was born, is not lost on me.


I love my name. I am my name. I used to go by Katie, but now I go by Kathryn. I am Kathryn. I just wish, in this moment, I wasn't.


But I am.


Also...my mother is named Kathryn. If you really want to see stupid on full display, share a name with your mother. Then, try and do anything legal related and watch the confusion commence.


Let me say this louder for the idiots in the back. I AM KATHRYN A. SHE IS KATHRYN P. I AM ME. SHE IS SHE.


"...Sorry we already have a Kathryn Wright here."


"I am fully aware of that. I am Kathryn A Wright. She is Kathryn P Wright."


"We already have a Kathryn Wright here."


...I honestly want a fucking refund on all the time lost trying to explain that I am who I am and she is who she is.


I mean, personality traits and laugh...Similar. Name? Similar. STILL NOT THE SAME PERSON YOU IDIOT TWAT WAFFLE.


AKA SEE THAT THERE ARE LITERALLY TWO KATHRYNS LISTED AND I LITERALLY HAVE NOT VOTED YET TODAY...


YES I REALIZE THAT KATHRYN WRIGHT ALREADY VOTED.


THAT WAS KATHRYN P WRIGHT AKA MY MOTHER.


I AM KATHRYN A WRIGHT....AKA GIVE ME MY FUCKING BALLOT.


But yeah.


So like I've said, everything in my life now is a process.


Now, I have to process this.


Hair. Ovaries. Stomach. Tits. Lungs?....As well as Miley and Liam. Also, Dwayne Johnson aka The Rock aka what was supposed to be my future husband is officially off the market. These are dark times, folks.


So now, there are many decisions to be made. More chemo, more radiation, an impending double mastectomy, along with "total abdominal hysterectomy with bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy"...I'm living in my own personal episode of Grey's Anatomy.


Which should be awesome, but it's not, because all the best characters got killed off.


THANKS FOR NOTHING SHONDA.


I mean, can a bitch get a McDreamy up in here? Or McSteamy? Or DENNY DUQUETTE??!! Oh lord...that is a beautiful man.


So yeah. This is my reality now.


It has been. But somehow, it just got a little more fucking real.


There are many, many battles to be fought. Battles to be fought to win the war.


A war that I don't know now if I will be able to win.


I want to win. I should win. I need to win.


But at this moment...on this day...at this time...I don't know if I can win the war.


And that makes me angry. And sad. And mad. And numb. And emotional. All at the same time.


Like I said. When I was told as a child that life wasn't fair, I wasn't prepared for this. No one is. No one could be...how can you be?


FML.

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