The moment of truth.
I was working in my office when I received a call from the doctor. The words are still flickering in my brain on a repeat mode: "Your test was positive. You have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. I am sorry." At that moment I actually felt sorry for the doctor for having to break the news to me. I wondered: "How many times a day do they have to do that?" Deep down I knew the test was going to come back positive, but of course, I was hoping I was wrong. It hit me all at once: "This is it!"
I walked upstairs and Jim was out in the driveway. I couldn't avoid him. I couldn't lie nor pretend. The look told him everything. "What?!" he asked "Not good" I replied. Just a hug. No tears. Reality that hit both of us, was beyond tears. We held each other at arm's length for just a lingering moment, both knowing that our future drastically changed.
"I need to go to the post office," "Ok, I'll see you later." And just like that, we went on with our lives.
I went and sat on the beach. I needed time alone. The reality of cancer has not set in yet. Not even sure if anything went through my mind at all. I was numb. So this is it! Now I belong to this new tribe. The tribe of people who have cancer. The tribe I never wanted to or never dreamed of belonging.
How will I tell the kids, my parents, my brother, my friends?