 Excerpt - The Diagnosis
...Finally the call came. The results were in and Dad had already been notified, but the lab couldn't tell me anymore. I dialed my parents' number and whispered a prayer in the silence of my mind. Please, God, let Daddy be fine. Please, let him be well. Glancing at the clock in my office, tapping fingers on the desk, I waited for someone to answer the phone, waiting for what I hoped was good news, waiting, waiting, and it felt like hours before Dad finally answered. My heart thumped in my throat, as I asked him about the results. The whirlwind intensified, swallowing me up, as his words came gently through the phone. Cancer. No! I don't want to hear that! You must be wrong! One of the most deadly forms of cancer that exists! Please stop! It was metastasized. What? It had spread and there was no cure. Malignant Melanoma. Metastasized. Cancer. No cure. Cancer. No cure. Cancer. No cure. My jaw tightened and gripping pain dripped from my heart, as the words ran through my mind.
"Don't sweat the little things, baby." His words were filled with optimism. "There could be experimental treatment that the doctors are considering. Your mother and I are leaving for a hospital in Maryland next week, where I'll be evaluated by the Onocology Department."
Cancer. No cure. Experimental treatment. Maryland. Cancer. No cure. My thoughts were frozen in motion, judgement and reason clouded over in my mind, as his words drifted through a long, foggy tunnel, passing through my ears, bouncing back and forth against the walls of my brain, until I became numb. We talked for awhile longer and then said goodbye, and I left my office, went outside and walked for hours, sad and empty, walking through a thick fog, my heart screaming loudly, fully caught up in the whirlwind, spinning, swirling, intensifying as it threw me back and forth. My life had been picked up and dumped upside down, and I held on tightly to God to keep from falling, as I remembered the words that came to me in my kitchen almost two years ago. |
