Day 1: I got the news
"What to say as we sit and wait...the silence is deafening."
I got the word! Now what? I have dressed and stood in the dressing room with my mind all a flutter. Who do I call, what do I do, where do I go and it is Friday afternoon at 4?
I can’t talk to anyone medical until Monday and I am at a lost.
Since the mammogram was routine and there was no anticipation of this being any different than in the past, I had the procedure and biopsy all alone.
As I am lying on the table, a former student of mine holds my hand and as the words rang out that it was Cancer, I cried and then apologized. What is wrong with me, why should I apologize? She looked at me and with a tear in her eye, said, “I am sorry”.
SO am I!
I drive and drive, not knowing what I want to do or where I want to be. I want control but how, it hits me and I head to the funeral home.
Crazy as it seemed, it gave me a sense of control – I want the information and I will deal with it all, I can handle this.
The man at the funeral home has known me, my family for years but just in a cordial, friendly way with no real attachments. He looks at me like I am daft as I ask for information and details in how to make my arrangements. He gives them to me and I head home, yes that was one of those ugly cries but very cathartic as I hit the house and sat down and wrote my obituary and tucked it away.
I am in control, I am in control, oh no, here comes my husband, I am not in control.
We sit in silence after I give him the news. The proverbial “NO PROBLEM” man is at a loss and his silence is deafening as he is supposed to make this better. Funny, it doesn’t feel better!
My kids gather round, those that are in close proximity and the dialogue begins. If there is nothing else I have learned from my father’s experience, it is I will put it all out on the table and we will face this together.
I question if I need to be strong for them or how they will deal with it or what they will think.
My youngest is at a loss as to how to react, he will have difficulty facing all of this.
My oldest two are away and that always adds a burden when they are not here to see the day to day changes.
My middle child is away at school, but cell phones will be our life line and my daughter is home, her graduation from high school this spring.
We have lots to do and plans that have been in place, we have our Germany trip to go to and her graduation party and I want to be there to send her off to college. She is dealing with her anxieties and normal senior issues and now her mom is sick.
Can they step up to the plate and will they?
We do cry together and hold each other tight.
We will deal with the hand that was dealt and it will be ok. I learn rapidly that we are a family with great inner strength.
Tomorrow may bring new challenges but for today, we are a family.
I can’t talk to anyone medical until Monday and I am at a lost.
Since the mammogram was routine and there was no anticipation of this being any different than in the past, I had the procedure and biopsy all alone.
As I am lying on the table, a former student of mine holds my hand and as the words rang out that it was Cancer, I cried and then apologized. What is wrong with me, why should I apologize? She looked at me and with a tear in her eye, said, “I am sorry”.
SO am I!
I drive and drive, not knowing what I want to do or where I want to be. I want control but how, it hits me and I head to the funeral home.
Crazy as it seemed, it gave me a sense of control – I want the information and I will deal with it all, I can handle this.
The man at the funeral home has known me, my family for years but just in a cordial, friendly way with no real attachments. He looks at me like I am daft as I ask for information and details in how to make my arrangements. He gives them to me and I head home, yes that was one of those ugly cries but very cathartic as I hit the house and sat down and wrote my obituary and tucked it away.
I am in control, I am in control, oh no, here comes my husband, I am not in control.
We sit in silence after I give him the news. The proverbial “NO PROBLEM” man is at a loss and his silence is deafening as he is supposed to make this better. Funny, it doesn’t feel better!
My kids gather round, those that are in close proximity and the dialogue begins. If there is nothing else I have learned from my father’s experience, it is I will put it all out on the table and we will face this together.
I question if I need to be strong for them or how they will deal with it or what they will think.
My youngest is at a loss as to how to react, he will have difficulty facing all of this.
My oldest two are away and that always adds a burden when they are not here to see the day to day changes.
My middle child is away at school, but cell phones will be our life line and my daughter is home, her graduation from high school this spring.
We have lots to do and plans that have been in place, we have our Germany trip to go to and her graduation party and I want to be there to send her off to college. She is dealing with her anxieties and normal senior issues and now her mom is sick.
Can they step up to the plate and will they?
We do cry together and hold each other tight.
We will deal with the hand that was dealt and it will be ok. I learn rapidly that we are a family with great inner strength.
Tomorrow may bring new challenges but for today, we are a family.
NOTE: The photograph was taken on Sue's final day of chemotherapy and was part of the exhibit at the Yolanda G. Barco Oncology Institute about Sue's battle with breast cancer. It was not taken the day she received the news, but the mood of the photograph and Sue's quote that she wrote under the displayed photograph seemed appropriate for this first story. The display of photographs each contained a quote from Sue in her own handwriting. An example of the display appears below.