When being right, isn’t

I was right.

In my gut, I knew I would be right.

I knew from the minute I felt the pain that wouldn’t go away.

I knew when the diagnostic exams started snowballing.

I knew when I saw what the mass looked like.

I knew when I watched the radiologist’s body language.

I knew when they found the second mass.

I’m 37 and I have breast cancer.

I got the call this morning from the midwife. And I have to say, I love that woman and her bedside manner. She didn’t beat around the bush, (“You have breast cancer.”) yet I could absolutely hear the compassion in her voice. (“and I’m so sorry to have to tell you this.”) The next few minutes were surprisingly calm. I’m sure that’s because in my gut, I always knew it would come down to this. We talked about how to deal with my “nurses all of the time” toddler. We talked about what comes next. She told me that she would be more than happy to follow along with my treatment and talk to me at any point, even though she might not have the answers. Have I mentioned that I love that woman? I trust her completely and know that she is going to be such an asset as I go through this process.

At this point, I have very little information. I know two facts:
1) I have two masses that are both cancerous.
2) Each mass is cancerous in a different way.

That’s it. That’s all I know. I have an appointment with an oncologist tomorrow where I’m planning on asking lots of questions and hopefully getting lots of answers. Actually, I know three more things:
1) This sucks and it’s going to suck for the foreseeable future.
2) I’m not going through this journey alone. I have so many wonderful people supporting me, which is partly what is going to get me through this difficult time.
3) My children are amazing. They have made me laugh today, they have melted my heart with their sweetness (3 yo – “Mommy, I hope that you won’t have any pain.”), they have encouraged me with their sweet innocence. My amazing children are going to be what keeps me focused and will be another part of what will help me get through.

I wish I hadn’t been right. I wish that my gut had been way off. Wishing doesn’t change the fact that I have breast cancer. The time for wishing has passed. It’s now time to fully and completely put my trust in God. I’ll be honest, it’s not going to be easy to let go of the worry and anxiety and fear. But I know that at the end of the day, none of those emotions are going to serve me well.

So I’m going to sit back and allow myself to be led by the Great Physician.

I know it’s going be a bumpy ride.

I also know that I’ll be placed safely on the other side.