Anxiety · Cancer · Family · Life · Parenting

The Waiting

You may have noticed the lack of blog post on Wednesday, December 21. As I write this it is still that day, and I am patiently waiting in my doctor’s office to find out if I have cancer. I had biopsies on a mass in my breast and on my lymph nodes last week, and I’ve been on pins and needles with racing thoughts ever since. Right now, as I put it to my husband in a lighter moment, I feel I have schroedinger’s boob- I both do and do not have cancer. As long as no one tells me my results, then there’s the possibility that I do not have it. That piece of levity aside, I have not been able to focus enough to write a blog about my life without talking about cancer in several days. 

Interestingly, I am not feeling freaked out by all of this at the moment. I’m scared, sure. But I also feel an entirely foreign sense of calm. I have seen this beast, whatever it is or isn’t, and it’s a manageable size. It’s early and it’s contained. It doesn’t scare me. What does scare me are the hundreds of unknowns racing through my mind. My counselor suggested to me that I formulate all of them as “if, then” statements if I need to feel control. There are too many to count or to list, but there is one that consistently comes to the forefront of my thinking: If I do have cancer, how do I tell Daughter? 

She’s terrified of the word just as I was after my father died. She’s seen my mother deteriorate rapidly as a result of the chemotherapy, but how do you make a nine year old understand that you won’t be like that? And then the other questions start… will I need chemo? Will my hair fall out? Should I cut it? Do I get a wig? What if I have cancer?!? 

So that’s where my heart and head are. I hear my doctor outside my door, so it’s time to go. All I know is, I’m going to be fine. 

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