This is a tough one to write today. It was exactly one year ago when--and I could tell you the exact place, time, what I was wearing and who I was with --I received THE phone call from my oncologist.
That phone call that sends your heart into rapid palpitations, ties your stomach in a twisted knot and the feeling your morning's breakfast and the prior three could end up on the carpet in front of you. A gut wrenching call rendering me to collapse into a fetal position with a plea to anyone nearby that it was a wrong number.
"This call is regarding yesterday's bone scan."
In my head I pictured the screen filled with red spots--could red be a good color?
And by the way...
Yes, your cancer has metastasized to your bones. No, there is no cure. Yes, we have drugs to keep you alive but we don't know for how long. No, we don't know why this happened. Yes, we are positive of the diagnosis. No, there is no mistake. Yes, this will change your life forever.
Splash ahead to one year later and I am still here but have crawled out of the fetal position and into a wetsuit. Screaming and swimming have replaced the punch in the stomach and moved me on to rallying the troops to find a cure or at least more drugs to keep me alive. A good distraction and a cause worth fighting for because this is about me and Heather and Maggie and the 155,000 of us who have received that call.
Please--let's work on keeping one more person from experiencing that "punch in the stomach" call. Grab our hands and together help us shout about why we need more research dollars for metastatic breast cancer. No need to swim--just scream and pass it on. This could save your daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, mothers and fathers.
Go to www.onewomanmanylakes.net
Thanks for your constant support and for reading # 250 of 7777.
That phone call that sends your heart into rapid palpitations, ties your stomach in a twisted knot and the feeling your morning's breakfast and the prior three could end up on the carpet in front of you. A gut wrenching call rendering me to collapse into a fetal position with a plea to anyone nearby that it was a wrong number.
"This call is regarding yesterday's bone scan."
In my head I pictured the screen filled with red spots--could red be a good color?
No, red is not a good color.
And by the way...
Yes, your cancer has metastasized to your bones. No, there is no cure. Yes, we have drugs to keep you alive but we don't know for how long. No, we don't know why this happened. Yes, we are positive of the diagnosis. No, there is no mistake. Yes, this will change your life forever.
Splash ahead to one year later and I am still here but have crawled out of the fetal position and into a wetsuit. Screaming and swimming have replaced the punch in the stomach and moved me on to rallying the troops to find a cure or at least more drugs to keep me alive. A good distraction and a cause worth fighting for because this is about me and Heather and Maggie and the 155,000 of us who have received that call.
Please--let's work on keeping one more person from experiencing that "punch in the stomach" call. Grab our hands and together help us shout about why we need more research dollars for metastatic breast cancer. No need to swim--just scream and pass it on. This could save your daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, mothers and fathers.
Go to www.onewomanmanylakes.net
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