At twenty-nine, this was unexpected. Although, I should add, that at any age, this would have been unexpected.
“You’re scans came back abnormal. We believe you have what’s called Hodgkin’s Lymphoma…”
She says it so matter-of-factly, I have to do a double take “what?”
“Abnormal.”
Still, there is that glimmer of hope in the way she says, “we believe.”
Believe. Unconfirmed. Not set in stone. Of course they’ll have to perform a biopsy to verify but it could always be negative…
Couldn’t it?
“You’re scans came back abnormal. We believe you have what’s called Hodgkin’s Lymphoma…”
She says it so matter-of-factly, I have to do a double take “what?”
“Abnormal.”
Still, there is that glimmer of hope in the way she says, “we believe.”
Believe. Unconfirmed. Not set in stone. Of course they’ll have to perform a biopsy to verify but it could always be negative…
Couldn’t it?
I begin to wonder what I’ve done wrong. Have I dyed my hair too much? My mom did always tell me to stop. Maybe it was that I didn’t change the filter in my Brita pitcher on time. Or maybe I just have bad Karma. Will the biopsy hurt? Will I be awake? Am I dying?
So. Many. Questions.
I feel my chest tighten and breathing becoming labored. A symptom. The reason I’m here, a tumor in my chest, growing as we speak. I won’t see the images until three days later but I know it’s large and growing quickly.
Nothing can calm my nerves. I am admitted to the Oncology department, where an IV is placed and they prepare me for a biopsy the next day. Luckily, I hadn’t yet eaten. It is now about 4 o’clock and after arriving at around 10, hunger is starting to creep in. Still, this means I could do the biopsy without waiting. For me that is best, I want results. Negative ones.
A day or two later, I receive news that it is most definitely Hodgkin’s Lymphoma although the type and stage are still undetermined. With this, my nightmare becomes reality. Another biopsy must be done and a port must be put in place but first there’s one more thing…
“You’re two weeks pregnant…” Her voice trails off and with that, I cry.
Today, I sit on my couch still in shock. I suppose, I am dreading the days to come. Treatment is at a standstill as referrals go through for surgeries, biopsies and various other procedures.
I have a dull pain in my chest, a constant reminder of the fight I face. A sickness to remind me of the weight that my decisions from here on out carry and how they affect others and sadly an anger that is incomparable to anything I’ve ever felt.
I am normally a cheerful, positive person... but it’s now that others expect it the most that I feel it the least. I cannot grant them that. This, the “best type of Cancer to have” (according to everyone) is driving me to question everything. My morals, my values, my own strength and worse:
My God.
I’ve only just begun and some days, I already want to quit.
If this Cancer is supposed to be so easy to beat, why does it feel so hard?
This is only part of my story. Today, it only includes Cancer. I don’t know when exactly it will end or how just yet. I do know, I will come out victorious.
Somehow.
Photo Credit: Flickr
So. Many. Questions.
I feel my chest tighten and breathing becoming labored. A symptom. The reason I’m here, a tumor in my chest, growing as we speak. I won’t see the images until three days later but I know it’s large and growing quickly.
Nothing can calm my nerves. I am admitted to the Oncology department, where an IV is placed and they prepare me for a biopsy the next day. Luckily, I hadn’t yet eaten. It is now about 4 o’clock and after arriving at around 10, hunger is starting to creep in. Still, this means I could do the biopsy without waiting. For me that is best, I want results. Negative ones.
A day or two later, I receive news that it is most definitely Hodgkin’s Lymphoma although the type and stage are still undetermined. With this, my nightmare becomes reality. Another biopsy must be done and a port must be put in place but first there’s one more thing…
“You’re two weeks pregnant…” Her voice trails off and with that, I cry.
Today, I sit on my couch still in shock. I suppose, I am dreading the days to come. Treatment is at a standstill as referrals go through for surgeries, biopsies and various other procedures.
I have a dull pain in my chest, a constant reminder of the fight I face. A sickness to remind me of the weight that my decisions from here on out carry and how they affect others and sadly an anger that is incomparable to anything I’ve ever felt.
I am normally a cheerful, positive person... but it’s now that others expect it the most that I feel it the least. I cannot grant them that. This, the “best type of Cancer to have” (according to everyone) is driving me to question everything. My morals, my values, my own strength and worse:
My God.
I’ve only just begun and some days, I already want to quit.
If this Cancer is supposed to be so easy to beat, why does it feel so hard?
This is only part of my story. Today, it only includes Cancer. I don’t know when exactly it will end or how just yet. I do know, I will come out victorious.
Somehow.
Photo Credit: Flickr
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