The cancer is back.
On Friday evening as I was unloading the dishwasher my surgeon called to tell me that the results of the surgical biopsy were positive. I sat down on the kitchen floor with the phone to my ear and a bunch of cutlery in my fist – my daughter napping in her bed upstairs, my husband at work, a rush in my ears like a wave of water drowning out everything…
Hold on. Listen to him. Then speak. Instructions from a part of my brain that I obeyed as best I could.
I asked, “How is it possible that it managed to grow when I have had so much chemo and radiation and I’m still receiving Herceptin treatments every three weeks?”
He said the words “Well, this is bad.” Then said that we needed to come in to talk about it. The rest is a blur.
We don’t know what it means yet. Tomorrow we will meet with him and my other oncologist, and hopefully our questions will be answered. Questions like what is the possible extent of the spread, what will my treatment be, how is this possible, and of course the all-encompassing query: WTF??
We’re in shock, angry, devastated, terrified… All I can think is, NOT AGAIN. And then, How dare you, cancer? Really, how dare you?
Here we go again, just when I thought I could see the finish line.