Surviving Cancer

After getting the phone call telling me I had cancer, I held myself together enough to make some phone calls of my own. First, my husband. I knew he was working at the clinic for his clinical, and would likely not answer. So I texted him saying, “I need to speak you with right away.” I didn’t get an immediate reply or call from him, so I called the next most important person, my mom. I called her, knowing she was likely working, but she sometimes picks up anyways. She picked up right away. In between my sobs, I managed to get out, “Mom, I have breast cancer.” I honestly don’t even remember what her response was, but I do remember that we just sat there, on the phone together, crying. I called all of my sisters and managed to get two of the three on the phone. It wasn’t until later, that my other sister finally called me back.

Before I left my job for the day, because let’s face it, after getting the news I got, there was no way I was going to be productive, I was able to hear back from Josh. He called me and I told him the news. The day, from the original call from doctor, and on, is complete mush. I remember crying. A lot. I gathered myself enough to grab my things from my desk and then left, for what I thought would just be the day, but it ended up that, I left that day and never went back (more on that later).

I was a complete wreck driving home. Thinking the worst when you hear the word cancer, and then thinking about leaving my kids without a mother. I knew I had cancer, but it would be four full days before I would know any details and, to what extent I had cancer. When I finally got home, I curled up into a ball, on my bed and cried. Josh, being the amazing husband and supporter that he is, told his supervisor the situation and said he needed to leave for the day. When he got home, he got into bed with me and held me as I broke down in his arms. He knew I needed him.

My mom, being the saint that she is, drove down that evening to Sioux Falls to be with us. There wasn’t much she could do, but being here was a comfort to me, and to her. We spent the next 4 days crying, worrying, laughing at times (I’ll explain), but still fearing the worst.

We were caught off guard one evening when there came a pounding on our door. Josh ran to the window to see if he could see who it was. He said it was the Sheriff and went to answer the door. The way our house is set up, you walk in the front door and have to go up a set of L shaped stairs to get to the living space. So, naturally I went to landing while holding Everett, and my mom followed while holding Audyn, so we could hear what was gong on. It was terribly hot that day, so the Sheriff asked if he could step inside to get out of the heat. Maybe worrisome for others, but not for us. He then proceeded to tell us that someone called in saying that they could smell weed coming through vents and had suggested that it was coming from our apartment. What the what?!?! For real people?! We got a kick out of this. He clearly saw, and smelt, that we were not guilty of this and quickly apologized and left. Maybe one day I’ll get to have medicinal marijuana…

Anyway, I was called later, on Thursday, by my nurse navigator to let me know I had appointments scheduled for Monday July, 22nd. This wasn’t just your regular in and out appointment either. I had multiple appointments spanning four hours. I met with my surgeon, a radiation oncologist, a medical oncologist, a plastic surgeon, and a genetics counselor. Most of which wanted to do a physical exam of their own on the area in question. It was this group of people, plus a whole lot more doctors that were meeting later that night to discuss my case, and what it was they were recommending as far as treatment goes.

I think for me, my mom, and Josh, those four days were the longest days in our lives. Time seemed to inch by. There would be times where I needed to be alone and would disappear to my room. There were other times where my mom would catch herself choking up and would disappear to “her room.” Those four days were torture, But looking back, now being almost two months out, time seems to have flown by.

Time is a funny thing that way.