One week ago turned into one of the worst days of my life. I got a call from the doctor’s office that my biopsy results were ready, and they weren’t good. “There is evidence of cancer”.

Breast Cancer.

I answered my phone, sitting in my office at work. It was the day before Thanksgiving. The nurse’s voice entered my ear canal, but each word just made me freeze more. I could barely speak. I was stunned. She said she’d call me back soon because she had to call my doctor and have an order put in for me to be scheduled with a surgeon.

I hung up the phone and just sat there. I couldn’t function. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t move. Everyone else in the office was either gone for the long weekend or intently working. No one knew. No one knew a thing except for me. I finished up whatever meaningless task I was working on and left for Thanksgiving break. I was crying a little, but more so trying to make sense of what I just heard. I drove away and called my mom. She sounded devastated and thoroughly surprised. As far as she knows, this doesn’t run in our family.

My head was swirling with how I was going to tell my family. All I could think was I was ruining Thanksgiving. How was I going to tell my daughter and my son? How in the hell is this happening? What is happening? It’s been one week and I’m still trying to wrap my head around this new reality that hasn’t hit me yet. I find myself doing very basic things, like pumping gas, and then I remember I have a cancer diagnosis. And I can’t help but wonder how hard this is going to be on me physically and mentally.

I’d like to say I don’t remember the rest of last Wednesday, but I remember it all quite clearly in slow motion. After my mom, I called my ex-husband so he would know when I told my kids. His reaction was stupid. Next, I called my dad and asked if he was home so I could stop over. I didn’t want to drop this news on Thanksgiving, so why not the day before? Ugh.

My dad just knew before I could get all the words out and hugged me. My stepmom came home, and I had to tell her. She was a mess. They held it together while I sat there, but I’m sure they lost their minds once I left. I went home and told my kids my results weren’t good. My daughter was a mess. My son doesn’t completely understand because he’s younger. Lastly, I called my sister and then my brother. I just didn’t want to save this for the Thanksgiving dinner table.

It was horrible telling this news to all of these people I love.

The wonderful nurse called me back when I got home. She scheduled me for an appointment with a surgeon the next week. That appointment has already been moved to another surgeon because my cousin, who is a doctor, insisted I see a different surgeon. Over the past week I’ve had an outpouring of love and support from many people. I dreaded coming into work on Monday because I had to tell my bosses and immediate co-workers. I didn’t have to tell them, but it’s only a matter of time before they need to know anyhow. I’m going to need them. I’m going to need all of them.

So now I wait until I see a surgeon next Tuesday to find out more and “start the process”. I know very little, but I know enough to speculate what is coming. My mind is a fog. I’m doing really dumb things, like I walked into a health food store earlier this week to get a couple things, but once I was in the store, I couldn’t remember what I needed. Luckily, I had it on a list.

I was in a health food store because that’s somewhere I go regularly these days. Over the past three years I’ve dramatically improved my lifestyle. I work out regularly, I avoid processed foods and sugar, I don’t drink much alcohol, I get decent sleep. I do all the things you’re supposed to do. I avoid toxic people, I attend church and try to raise my kids to be good humans, and I try my best at all that I do.

And I end up with a cancerous boob that I have no control over. I was very angry. I don’t have time for this. No one has time for this. I’m angry that my kids are going to have to witness the aftermath of this diagnosis when their mom needs to be there for them the most. By the end of the long weekend, I was less angry and more sad. I did get a lot done this weekend that involved physical labor – putting up Christmas decorations, cleaning up leaves in the yard, cleaning out the basement, etc. I couldn’t sit still, my mind wouldn’t let me.

I want to be mad at God, but I’m just not. I’ve been around the block enough times to know He has some greater plan. It will end in blessings. It always does, but I have to hang in there for the ride.

Stifle Me Not