If you are just stopping in, this is the ninth post in my 31 Day Series: I Wear Pink. Join me as I share my breast cancer journey. You can find the previous posts here.
After getting the kids off to school I began to make phone calls. First, I called Sloan Kettering. I explained my diagnosis and made an appointment for the next week. Then I called the local breast surgeon. When the secretary realized that I had a cancer diagnosis from a biopsy she arranged for an appointment for the next day. I called the health center and my primary care doctor to arrange for records to be sent to both surgeons. I called the insurance company for pre-approvals for specialist visits.
I lay on the couch exhausted. Calling family and friends last night, then calling the doctors and the insurance company made the situation real. It was no longer, “Please Lord, let me not have cancer.” Cancer was already an unwelcome guest. I hadn’t expected it. I never felt it come. I felt betrayed by my own body. I wasn’t sure how to pray.
If cancer happened to someone else, I reasoned, I would have known better what to do. I would organize meals, donate blood, provide rides, send a card, buy a book, or make a phone call. In fact, I had done all of those things for other people. But this was me and I didn’t know what to do.
So I lay on the couch. My mind alternated between manic states of panic and disbelief and pleading with God to take me through this. I worried about my children. If I were to die, I reasoned, my older kids would be okay. They were for the most part grown. But my younger children. They were still young enough to need their mother, all day long, sometimes. We had adopted them and never looked back. Now, I wondered would they have been better off with someone else...someone who didn’t end up with cancer? As if I could have predicted that. How would my husband take care of the kids and the house if I wasn’t around anymore? Should I do a really thorough house cleaning, just in case?
I also worried about the whole process of surgery, chemo, and radiation. What would my immediate future look like? What would I look like? How sick would I get before I got better? Would I get better? I hate throwing up...how much throwing up was I going to have to do?
I lay on the couch until we had dinner. Then I want to bed. The next morning, I lay on the couch until I had to get ready for my first doctor’s appointment as a person with breast cancer.
I realize that "good" bloggers end their post with a question. But really what would I ask? Instead, I'll just invite you to say "Hello."I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you. I said, ‘You are my servant’; I have chosen you and have not rejected you.So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. ~ Isaiah 41:9-10