“Right now I want a word that describes the feeling that you get--a cold sick feeling, deep down inside--when you know something is happening that will change you, and you don't want it to, but you can't stop it. And you know, for the first time, for the very first time, that there will now be a before and an after, a was and a will be. And that you will never again quite be the same person you were.” ― Jennifer Donnelly, A Northern Light
I woke up this morning anxious, because I knew I would get the results of my biopsy, and I would either have cancer or not. It was a big day. I don't know how I felt. I know I needed results-- three weeks of not knowing was more than I could handle. I want to say I was pretty certain the results would report that it was negative, and I was stressing for nothing. I thought I would feel like such a fool for allowing it to screw with my head all this time when I didn't even have cancer. Looking back, I really believed that my results would be negative, with the slight fear of the possibility of cancer. I thought I was ready for the relief and ready to tell the few people I had shared my experience with that it was a false alarm, and life could proceed as normal once again. Gosh! The not knowing and wondering and all the "ifs" that ran through my head was the ultimate worse part of this experience...so far.
I get to work, and it's the first day of the next month, because of the labor day holiday weekend. This means that all my billing time must be entered and released, so the firm can bill the clients and we can get paid. Without the added stress of wondering whether I have cancer, the end and beginning of every month is always stressful at work. I need to enter and release all my time by noon today. I have some work to get done this morning, and then I stop and try to enter all my billing time before noon. Earlier, the man I had just started dating texted me that he was sure I would get good news today. Everyone else texted me along those same lines. Deep down, I believed they were right even thought I still felt anxious about it. We were all ready for these damn results to come and confirm it for us. I wish it came after 12pm though, but of course not-- just my luck, the doctor calls at around right before 11:00am, in the midst of entering all my time...
I answer like a nervous wreck. The doctor reports to me that the pathologist report came back and they found some positive results for blah blah blah.... His voice was solemn, you could feel he was uncomfortable and also did not like making this phone call. I could feel his sorrow through the phone. I felt my mind go numb-- blank. His voice felt so distant. I was confused trying to stay strong-- felt my voice cracking, and my tears flowing. Did he just confirm cancer? I was in disbelief, and scared, but tried my best to keep my composure- stay matter of fact. I swear he was speaking in German or something, I could not, for the life of me, understand what this man was saying! I tried to remain calm and just cried silently as I asked him to please spell the diagnosis so I could write it down. Amidst the junk mess on my desk, I managed to find a post-it pad where I begin writing "ductal carcinoma in situ- DCIS" - this is what the doctor had been trying to communicate to me. That word "carcinoma" hits me again as it brings back memories of receiving Casper's cancer diagnosis just over six months ago in February (as many of you know Casper died only a few weeks later on April 1st). I remember feeling fear and hate of that word. It had brought so much sadness to my life. I missed Casper. I remember being on the telephone with the vet and my heart breaking when I received Casper's cancer diagnosis. This time, however, I did not feel heartbroken. Instead, I felt fear and disbelief and a surreal numbness. I don't even think I felt sad the way I did with Casper. Oddly enough, looking back, sadness was nowhere in the span of emotions that ran through me. Nope, no sadness. Just fear and pressure. I suddenly saw my future take a direction that was no where on my radar previously. I was scared and lost. I asked him with a cracking teary voice, "so what happens now? what do I do next? What stage cancer is this?" He tells me simply that they had provided me a list of surgeons and telephone numbers, and so now I need to contact a surgeon. Just like that. He was done with me. His role in this journey was over in his eyes, and I was left hanging-- wondering, what the fuck? This can't be happening-- that's it? Tell me I need to contact a surgeon from a list on a piece of paper that was handed to me after the biopsy that I misplaced somewhere in my paper file hoarding home? OMG! Let me catch my breath and try to figure this out. Before I can, I'm super emotional and worrying about work now that I know for sure I will not have my time released by noon. Fuck!
As soon as I hang up, I cry some more and then go straight to our controller's office. Bless her heart, dear Robbyn was the first person I shared the news with. I think the first and last days of every month is stressful for me, it's most likely ten times more for her as she needs us to get all our time in so she can do her job and get the bills out. Here I am sitting in front of her as she also is scrambling to get things done, and I just cry telling her I will probably not make the noon cut-off time, but will get my time in as soon as possible. I just cannot think straight right now as I just found out I have breast cancer. She's super supportive and understanding and offers to put my time in for me. I wish I wrote it exactly how I input it, but I don't so I can't give it to her to do for me. I thank her and say I will get it done. Eventually, I do get it done, but it is after the 12pm deadline. But at least it's in. I don't have to stress that anymore. Today, I also have a ton of work to get done. Looking back on it, that was good because it forced me to keep going and be busy and not sulk in my fear...
After I spoke with Robbyn, I emailed my biggest boss, Ron, as I had kept him in the loop about what was going on, and I promised to keep him updated. I sent him an email letting him know my results were positive and I have cancer. I thanked him for his support and concern. He responded asking whether he could help, if he should begin making some calls to find a surgeon. I let him know that would be incredible and I would appreciate it so much. I needed that. I needed someone else to help me and take over where to go from here.
After I emailed him, I sent the following text to my closest friends and family who had known what I was going through and were waiting for results with me:
"I'm super busy n have tons to get done, but fyi- thanks everyone for your support n prayers- the doctor called n I have early breast cancer- doctor was much helpful- I need to call breast surgeons to schedule appointment n see next steps. Clare n non, pls don't tell my mom or the family yet. Please everyone else give me some time to digest. Thanks again for all the prayers n support- could always be worse, life is still beautiful :)"
In my text, I mistyped saying the doctor was much helpful- I had meant to text that the doctor was NOT helpful. In the end, it's better I typed it wrong as it kept everyone calm. I received various responses throughout that day. I was in a surreal world as I had lots of work to get done, and then at the same time, I kept laughing and was just trying to keep a humorous attitude about it. Don't get me wrong, I cried a lot- a lot, but I also laughed trying to stay composed. I emailed my bosses (the partners) as I did not know how else to communicate to them all when everyone was busy. I even joked in that email apologizing for having to do it through e-mail, but I didn't know the protocol as I have never had cancer before- lol! Yes, I lol'd in an email to my big bosses. They all responded with support. It was a surreal and busy day. I did not really have time to let it all sink in and think about what this all meant for my life. I think I was trying to do damage control. I immediately emailed my parents after telling everyone, and then I texted my cousins that I let my parents know already so no more family secrets.
Each of the partners responded with support. A couple came to my office almost immediately after. Laura came and gave me a hug, and another partner who is the equivalent of the class clown came all somber and serious with words of support and encouragement-- I couldn't handle that. I asked him to please go back to not being serious and be funny and laughed and thanked him. You kind of know you're in real life trouble when the constant joker becomes serious--- thank God he went back to his sarcastic self which made me feel better. I understand that cancer makes people uncomfortable, and people are not sure how to treat a person with cancer. I know, because I was one of them. At some point prior in time, those of us who have cancer didn't and few of us knew people in our lives that did, so I get the awkwardness. I find myself trying to make others comfortable, which has helped. By no means should I be the standard of how to act around a cancer patient, each of us deal with this in our own way. Humor and openness happen to be my way and work for me. I know others who are extremely private about it and I respect that.
I worked the rest of the day- keeping busy. After work that night, as I was driving home, I called my parents. It was probably around 7pm here so about 12 noon in Saipan. My mom answered. I asked her if she checked her email yet. She said no. She said she was afraid to check. I had not taken the time to really think about how frightening this must have been for my parents. Quite frankly, I thought she would have been checking her email asap the way I was eager to hear from the doctor. When she said she was too afraid to check, it kind of hit me that I am my parents' child and they probably are more afraid than I am and would be feeling that extra emotion of devastation and sadness that I felt when I got Casper's diagnosis. I didn't think about that before hearing her say that. *sigh* I told her, "well, the results came back positive and I have breast cancer." I'm still driving on my way home as I tell her. I tried to make it better explaining that I was lucky it was caught so early, and I will be fine. She was devastated. She said she wished it was her instead and she did not want me to have to go through this. I felt her sadness. We talked and I explained that I should be fine with my diagnosis. I begged her not to come to Arizona yet until I was ready, after I selected a surgeon. I know she did not like that I was making this request. I promised her I would let her know when I needed her and that I already know that I would need her, but now is not the time. She kept trying to convince me that she should come now and she would not be in my way. I made it clear that I was not ready, and it would only cause me more stress. She had me speak to my dad. If you know my dad, he's very much the wise man in the family. Always calm and collected unless you really piss him off- lol! I remember giving him the news and he kept saying, "life- this is life." He asked what they could do, and I told him the best thing he could do for me right now is keep my mom there at least until after I find a surgeon and know what I will be doing. He agreed. I reassured him that I know I will need them, and I will tell them when that happens. I let him know I had many supporters here too. He said he would respect my request, but also told me not to impose on the people here because they have their own lives and responsibilities and he and mom could come and help me. When he said this, I knew he wanted to come too. I told him I understood. I knew they both wanted to be here with me, but I was not ready, and I knew at least my dad respected this and would abide with my request.
It was only later that I found out from my mom that her friends had been giving her pressure and crap about not being here with me. They kept telling her I needed her (which I do now, but not then) and that she should just come. I am so glad she knows me better and did not listen to them. She told them I am no longer an islander. I am a city girl and not any regular city girl, I became a New Yorker, so they don't know that I am serious when I say please leave me alone for now. Ha!ha! Good for her. I totally understand and appreciate her friends, but she definitely knows me better as we have had to learn this the hard way in the past. I'm just not typical and lost my islander status long ago.... I'm strong and independent like my mother, but stubborn and hard headed like my father, so in the end it's their fault. Kidding, a little... lol! LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH MOM AND DAD! :)
I don't remember much else from that day, except that that WHOLE WEEK was surreal. I tried to book myself every night with friends or family for dinner or just visiting or going out. I don't think I could stand being alone with my thoughts and reality. Thanks to those of you who kept me busy and allowed me to intrude that first week-- you know who you are (Clare, Ramon, Naomi, Jeff, Julia, Betsy). I remember not knowing how to respond to people when they would ask me how have I been. I know people just give their usual standard answers, but I was always weird about it and answer honestly-- this time, however, I wasn't sure how to answer. Sometimes I gave the same generic "fine" answer, and other times, I would over-share and say I have cancer. lol! I always cried when I first told someone I have cancer, but now I am way better about it. That first Saturday, I could finally lift heavy things after my biopsy, so I went to Sam's club to buy cases of bottled water. I thought about it as my first Saturday knowing I have cancer. It still felt very surreal. I told the two male cashiers at checkout after one asked how my day was going. I responded, "It's my first Saturday knowing I have cancer, and it's going OK as can be." They both shared their mother's had breast cancer and wished me well. I still think about it and look back and laugh about how I handled it all. I have never considered myself "normal," but I agree I might have pushed that too far telling random strangers I have cancer when they engage in generic insincere "how are you" conversations. Oh well.
It just all felt like a dream-- and not necessarily like a bad dream, just a dream. It didn't seem real that first week (still sometimes doesn't feel real); I just knew I had to find the best care possible, and I had a lot of homework on my hands about treatment and breast cancer and surgeons in the area. Life changed.
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