The Results Are In

The hospital called this morning with my test results from the biopsy. I have breast cancer. Monday is the day I meet with the surgeon, oncologist, etc. and find out what will be happening when and how, but for the moment, things are still relatively peaceful.

This Sunday afternoon, my stepmother will go with me up to Vermont so I can hug my aunt who is battling Inflammatory Breast Cancer, give my ninety-one year old grandmother who just went into a nursing home and has just gotten her first cell phone ever a kiss on the cheek, and visit my Mom and Pattys' grave. I will take some Forget-Me-Not seeds to sow in the cemetary around the headstone and try to visit as cheerfully as possible with Gram and Aunt Roberta. Maryellen is helping me take this time now because we just don't know what will be happening, or how fast it will happen, after Monday's appointments.

Dad, Maryellen, and Ross (hopefully) will all be with me for the afternoon on Monday and I am hoping they will think to ask the questions I may be too distracted to manage. Beyond that, as I look around me, the world is still spinning on its axis, the night winds are blowing their odd tunes through the branches of the trees, and the Spring season hovers enticingly on the edge of it all waiting for just the right moment to declare itself officially "here."

Elsewhere in the world another family is saying its goodbyes to their mother, wife, daughter, niece, sister, and friend, as Natasha Richardson is prepared for her funeral. Knowing how it feels to have to say such goodbyes, my heart goes out to all of them in the knowledge that no amount of money or fame can insulate us from the pain that comes at a time like this and that no amount of publicity can possibly bring the comfort we so long for in the shape of our loved one's face and smile, the touch of their hand, or the sound of their laughter, their voice, as they enter our minds and hearts for what we know can only be the few, and very briefest, of moments before time and memory begin to steal even that from us as we begin to heal and go on without them. At least, or perhaps it is more of a curse than otherwise, Natasha Richardson's family will always have her voice and face in the form of her films from her acting career, although her touch and love cannot be recorded and kept for posterity except in the hearts of those who knew her most intimately.

On my home front, my Dad suffers once again, worrying about another daughter who is facing a major health crisis such a short time after having lost my younger sister to leukemia. Mine is a very different situation and I try to remember to mention, reminding both Dad and myself, that with the exception of a very elderly aunt who stopped taking her Tamoxifen, the rest of our family members who have had to deal with the same type of cancer I am faced with right now are all still very much alive and cancer free, which I am hoping to be very soon. I also told him to spread the word that people were to feel free to go ahead and send me roses or money or jewelry or other stuff to help cheer me up if they were so inclined. It got a weak laugh from Dad (a VERY weak laugh), but at least it was a laugh. I know we both know very well that even though things like that are nice to have they cannot begin to take away the sting of having to face a disease like cancer in any of its many forms or of having to endure the rather harsh treatments so often necessary in order to eradicate it. I am just happy to have Dad and Maryellen and Ross to help me get through all of this, as well as my other sister and my friends. I have a lot to be grateful for and a lot to look forward to enjoying in life once all of the treatments have been completed. Right now, however, I will settle for this weekend and the anticipated advent of Spring.