When life as you know it ends . . . {8/365}

4:22PM.

October 22, 2013.

The phone rang.

ENT Consultants it read.

The call we had been waiting for.

The call I'll never forget; if I live to be 100.

"I apologize for not calling yesterday, I still hadn't received the reports . . .

. . . there was cancer . . ."

I listened to the rest of what he said.

I couldn't call it a conversation; that would have required verbal participation on my part.

I had no words.

Across from me sat a man trying to read my face; gage my reaction.

Apparently I gave it all away.

I ended the call after receiving yet another apology for the having to deliver bad news.

I simply sat.

28 years old.

I had cancer.

No.  This simply didn't make sense.

I was healthy.

All levels were perfect.

I was numb.

There was no way to wrap my mind around this.

We sat in each others arms and let the tears fall.

There were no words spoken.

There were no words period.

I now had to tell my mother that her only child, of just 28, had cancer.

Just 24 hours after she had been at the hospital with chest pains, where she was told to avoid stress.

How does one cushion that blow?

 I couldn't.

So I picked up that phone.
The words just flowed.
As did her response: "No . . . oh my god no . . "

My response to those who wanted to come over was that I wanted a few hours to process the news.
A few hours I thought would be enough.
The hours and days that followed weren't enough.
Not nearly.
 I started to think an entire lifetime wouldn't be enough.

This word.
This disease.
It had attacked our family so many times.
But the sensation when it's you.
There are no words to describe it.

Life as we knew it had ended.

"You never how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have"

-T-