The last call you think about getting at 2:45 on a Friday afternoon in December is the call from the radiology lab with your biopsy results. And though the doctor is very kind and soft spoken, willing to stay on the phone for as long as you need her, you can’t think of more than a couple questions to ask, so you hang up, in shock, stunned, unable to do anything other than pick your kid up from school like you do every other afternoon.
And then the weekend looms — 48 hours between you and the answers to the questions that roll over you now like a dark cloud. Dr. Google is a mistake. Tempting, but a mistake. Every cancer is different.
It doesn’t take long for anger to set in. You are ready to fight, to beat this thing down and get on with your beautiful life. But it’s already a tangle of words that you never thought would belong to you and insurance approvals and referrals and first available appointments. And so there’s little to do in the next 48 hours except keep moving, like you always do. Laundry, dusting, planning that dinner party you are hosting next Saturday.
Just keep moving.