All day Monday, I waited and waited and waited for the call that could change everything about our quiet life…all day, I sat in the kitchen with Jon and I stared at that phone relentlessly. No exaggeration, I began to feel what little sanity I have left slip away. I even joked to several people that we were living the whole “watched pot never boils” story, because we were.
Two days ago, my sweet doctor called and despite it being against what they regularly do (she’s wonderful and knew how badly I needed to know the results), gave me the news.
Invasive Ductal Carcinoma.
Yes, that ugly “c” word has now been forever associated with my name.
When she said the words I already knew were coming, I literally choked on my own tears. Breathless, if you’ll allow me to be redundant, only begins to describe it. More like the air in my lungs was ripped out of my body. After a blessedly brief crying jag, I pulled myself together and spread the word to my network of friends and family.
Right now, for the most part, I’m focused on making sure everyone around me is okay with the news. I am keenly aware of the fact that I am not the only one going through this, even if it IS my body. My whole family is affected by this diagnosis, they are all broken by this, I really want to make sure they’re as okay as possible.
I’ve decided to stay positive (way easier said than done, I’m learning) and have been trying to be tongue and cheek about it. I’m sad for what this means for us as a family, but I’m shored up by my community.
Talking to the Kids
While we still haven’t told Kathryn much about what’s going on, Kyla is aware of the diagnosis. After gently sitting down with her and telling her the news, I took some time to answer any questions she had about the information she’d been given. Her main concern was what the next steps would be after the surgery and what might happen if the cancer spreads. Since so much is still unknown, it’s hard to give her the answers she seeks, be we try. Occasionally, I find her staring at me as if she’s waiting for something to happen to me right in front of her eyes. My sweet girl. Her life will never be the same. I hate that most of all.
I worry about Kathryn. She was by my side throughout the extent of Mommaw’s illness and spent time with her all the up to nearly the end. The word cancer scares her, I have seen the actual fear spread across her face when someone mentions the word. I’m trying to stave off this time for her as long as possible. I’d protect her from it all if possible. My heart breaks thinking of how afraid she will be when she finds out.
Tomorrow I head to the hospital to pick up my mammogram and ultrasound images and will try to speak with a social worker/financial adviser to work on finding a way to get health insurance.
Friday, I head out to meet with the surgeon and hopefully schedule the lumpectomy as soon as possible. Then I see the oncologist soon after that and can hopefully formulate a plan as soon as possible.
For now I’ll sit on my porch, sling back a few Rasp-ber-itas, read my Cancer-for-Dummies book and love on the wee people.
**There is a link to the fundraising page and the cafe press store within the image on this site. All proceeds go to helping our family pay our medical bills.**See y'all later!