Alright: The biopsy is positive for cancer. Dammit...
So taking the bull by the horns I decide to tell the boybarians right away. I plan to say something eloquent, inspiring, hopeful... "I have breast cancer..." is all I can manage before bursting into tears. They freeze. Big kid has glassy eyes. Lil brother stares wide eyed, alarmed. They look from me to their dad.... breaths held. The moment suspended. And even I glance at Mr B who simply stands as a sentinel, resolute, not rushing the moment or pushing it forward with useless words. We simply sit in this fragile moment-together.
I am sure there will be more of these moments. And there has been. As I explain to lil brother later, "I am mad and sad." "At me?" he worries. And I chuckle. I assure him, no, no-he's off the hook-for now...
And indeed real life does eclipse the "big moments." I did several loads of laundry today, emptied the dishwasher, and within 17 minutes of my major revelation, the boys were fighting, had spilled a cup of Ramen noodles on the carpet, and had already used 18 plastic cups that were spread on the kitchen counter...
A friend said to me today, "Our love stories and our tragedies are never as elegant as we plan." So true. So very, very true.
On Friday I will meet with the doc to discuss "options." We caught this early (Mr B is feeling righteous and justified about this) and the cancer is small-a blessing, indeed. Our little world is going to have a few bumps in the road, but we will take them one hurtle at a time.
Blessings-as always!
My condolences. That sucks. And insert whatever is the most appropriate thing to say here. You've been on my mind this week. Are you going back to work?
ReplyDeleteI have a good friend who shares your profession, different subject area, and has survived breast cancer and can connect you to her. She is wise and strong and awesome.
-Alice Newman (a very faithful reader)
http://stillfiguringitout.typepad.com/blog/