My roommate and I had a slumber party last night. We snuggled up, ate some chocolate, and watched a silly movie. It was just me, her, Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde, and the soft, not at all intrusive and grating beeps of a thousand machines. I drank a bottle of water. She enjoyed an IV of various fluids. You know, like you do.

It was a girls’ night all the way. We giggled and talked about boys/girls, potential romantic interests, and strategized ways for me to seduce the various doctors/male nurses/orderlies walking in and out of her room every 10 minutes. (Spoiler alert: I took off my pants.)
Yup, just a typical slumber party. Except for the small matter of locale, of course. It was my first slumber party in a hospital which, as it turns out, is the exact WORST place in the world to be when you need rest.
Obviously, things have taken a turn over here. My roommate’s cancer, which had been fairly under control for the last couple of months, decided to give her an early holiday gift. The cancer decided to be a horsefaced cuntdragon bitch. During a routine appointment yesterday, her dream team of doctors did an echo and discovered a lot of fluid was building up around her heart. That fluid, combined with the fluid that’s been steadily building in her lungs, earned her a one way ticket to the UW Med Center.
Dear Kim,

Happy holidays! Oh and also, fuck you!

Love always,
Are we sad? Yes. Are we scared? Clearly. Are we going to back down from our fight? When hell freezes over.
Today she meets her new cardio team. They will go over all the data from our sleepless night of being woken up every 45 minutes to do another EKG or chest xray or special blood pressure test etc etc and they will come up with The Plan.
In the meantime, we have our own Plan. During her stay in the hospital, we will do the following:
-We have vowed to win over every doctor, nurse, orderly, and hospital staff member. By the end of her stay, they WILL love us the most and always want to hang out in our room.
-We will pretend she’s on the world’s lamest cruise ship. We’ve named her room The Lido Deck and whenever a new person enters the room to take vital signs or stick her with another needle, we put on snooty voices and shout, “Welcome to the Liiiiiiiido Deck! Have you brought us a mai tai?”
-We will scope out and/or hook up with any cute doctor/nurse/orderly/hospital staff member/stray visitor wandering the hall. Because what’s sexier than a gal with tubes coming out of her body or her roommate sprawled pantsless on a hospital cot? NOTHING. That’s what.
-We will be honest about how we are feeling when we are feeling whatever our feelings may be. If we are sad, we will say, “I am sad.” If we are scared, we will say, “I am scared.” And sometimes, just for the hell of it, one of us will shout, “FUCK CANCER!” and then we’ll fist bump and cheer.
Was this visit to the Lido Deck of Cancer Hell on our agenda? Nope. Are we going to rock it anyway? OBVI.
My roommate is strong, beautiful, confident, kind, and as hot as she is awesome. She’s going to rock the hell out of this hospital stay and look good doing it. And hopefully, with your good thoughts and prayers and the work of the amazing staff of the UW Medical Center, she’ll be released in time to go home for Christmas next Wednesday.
Brace yourselves, y’all. We’re pulling out the Unicorn and Narwhal and we’re preparing for battle.
We’re totally making this cancer our bitch.
You know, while we sip mai tais on the Liiiiido Deck. Because that’s how we roll.