One Year Since Diagnosis

One year ago today, I got the call from the surgeon confirming my biopsy results were cancerous. I was in the school library with the 5th grade class at the time. Their teacher had stepped out for a minute and I remember feeling bad leaving the 4 or 5 students alone, but had been waiting for the call for days (eternity) at that point and needed to know what I already strongly suspected.

I remember the surgeon was so calm and kind - just as he had been at my consultation and on the day of my surgery. He explained that as cancers go, this was an easily treatable one. He gave me a referral to a highly recommended oncologist. He spelled things out for me (both literally and figuratively) and made sure I took notes as he talked so that I could remember all the things he said.

After we hung up, I went back into the library to check out books for the boys that were still waiting. I remember chanting "act normal, everything's fine" over and over in my head as I scanned their books for them. Then I set about notifying the teachers of the classes who had not come up yet that I would be leaving early. But one of the teachers was out of her classroom.

I was wandering around, trying to figure out where to leave a note, probably in shock, when my two fellow-lunch-lady friends saw me. I'll never forget the looks on their faces when I said I had cancer. It was the first time I said it out loud. They were the first people I told. They also happened to be two of my biggest cheerleaders, friends and supporters throughout treatment and beyond. One friend was shocked with me while the other helped me leave a note and made sure I was OK to drive myself home.

I don't actually remember much else from that day. I know I texted a bunch of people. And I know we told the kids what was going on because I remember having a conversation with Anna about  lymphoma being a kind of cancer. That was probably my worst moment as a mother.

A year has passed, almost 6 months since my last chemo treatment. Some days I'm in awe of how far I've come out of the brain fog and eyebrow-less post-chemo existence of the months following treatment. Some days I'm angry at the fact that cancer took up almost a year of my life. Some days I'm thankful for all the really good things that came along with cancer. Basically, though, it's there every day. Cancer. Whether I'm thanking it, cursing it or fearing it coming back, it's always there.