Resuming our story…
Dennis, Victoria, Matthew and I returned to our home. We greeted two of my sisters, Denise and Lisa (you will meet my siblings in an upcoming post) who had just arrived from Wisconsin. I was hyper aware of my husband and children. My husband heard the news an hour or so ago. My children just minutes ago. Now we had to face the world. Time was not a luxury we had anymore.
This is when it started, when others would find out and hear the words, “I have cancer.” “My mom has cancer.” “My wife has cancer.” “My daughter has cancer.” “My sister has cancer.” “My teacher has cancer.” “My friend has cancer.” “My niece has cancer.” “My cousin has cancer.” “My neighbor has cancer.” The list goes one. This is a tough one for me to try and explain… I had cancer. To the outside world I was just one person. But there are so many parts of me that connect with others in my life… It wasn’t just “one person” – it was all of my relationships and facets of me. It was overwhelming. I felt the weight of that diagnosis on each level. My reaction was to comfort those who would feel the pain of the diagnosis. There was no time to grieve for myself. Time. Time…
There are things that happen to us in this life, whether they are things we chose or things that were given, that become much more real when we give them legs. For me this is when something is spoken aloud or seen in print. It makes things real. Tangible. Alive. The thing now has life. It is a tangible part of my life. In this moment I was aware that one of the most dreaded words in the English language would come alive. Cancer. Weird thing is, it was already alive. It had been for about 10 days. I was unaware of it. Oblivious. Blissfully ignorant.
Whomp! The Willow was making herself known now. The hits were starting to come so close together it was hard to breathe. But, I had to breathe. My Core Four. My parents. My siblings. My nieces and nephews. My students. My friends.
Three days.
I had three days.
How? How does one do this? How does one decide what’s important – really important… Important enough that it is possibly one of the lasts things that I would do on this earth… There were opinions. They were given in love and helpfulness. But my ears were ringing – ringing loudly with “you have three days.” I could be wrong, but I believe they were also ringing just as loud in the ears of my Core Four. We weren’t yet in “what’s next and how do we fight this” mode. The rest of the world was already starting to get there. It’s a common sense question when someone says they have cancer – “how are you going to fight that?” But my Uninvited Guest still didn’t have a face. He was still shrouded in mystery. My oncologist (WHOMP) had three days to figure out who my UG was and how, if possible, to make him leave.
If possible. There it was. Those are the words that shook me. If possible. WHOMP. How does one fight an unknown UG while encouraging the Core Four, parents, siblings, friends, students, neighbors… while planning (most-likely) ones last days on earth? Knowing that in 3 days we would have a possible battle plan that might include surrender. How?
Those who know me well know I lived in the comfort of absolutes. Black and white. Honestly, I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and had somehow landed in Munchkin Land where there was color… Even the Wicked Witch had color. She was supposed to just be black and white. An easily recognizable foe. Nope. New land. New colors. New rules. New language. No certainty. One foot in Kansas trying to love, protect, plan, ready my loved ones while one foot was in Oz trying desperately to adjust. Both feet needed to be ready to move in 3 days.
But, right now I had siblings to call, friends to tell, and students to inform. Deep breath. Breathe. The mundane had built up around me and had created a good life. It was changing. It had to change. There really was no choice.
The Time that is Given 