“We all die someday, Terra.”
His response shocked me and I had to remind myself that he didn’t know I was sick.
Angry, scared, and hurt, I blurted out. “I have stage three breast cancer.” Then not wanting to know his response, I jerked open the door and rushed from his office, making my way as quickly as I could out of the building.
An hour later, I was called into the oncologist’s office. I took a seat where he indicated, and he sat across from me. “Is your husband coming?”
I shook my head. “He had to work.”
My oncologist frowned, clearly disapproving of Brayden’s choosing to work over being with me. I was a bitch for not clearing up the truth of the situation. Brayden didn’t even know about this visit.
“I feel good about your prognosis, Terra, but support is so crucial to health in general, especially during treatment. Is everything okay in your marriage?”
No. On the drive over, I second guessed my belief about Brayden having an affair. His response had been to turn the tables on me. Was that just a way to deflect his own actions or was he really offended and hurt by my accusation?
“You know how it is. He works a lot for the family.”
“Does he know about your diagnosis?” he asked.
I nodded, but didn’t come clean that he’d only just learned about it an hour earlier. “When it’s time for treatment, I’ll have support,” I said, thinking I needed to talk to Emma too.
He studied me for a moment, but then thankfully, he moved on. “Here is the treatment schedule I recommend. We’ll do a cycle of neoadjuvant chemotherapy to shrink the tumor. Then we’ll schedule surgery for a lumpectomy, and follow with radiation.”
“It sounds straightforward.”
“It is, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy emotionally or physically. Your mother had cancer, didn’t she?”
“Yes.” I swallowed the fear that swelled up. I could so easily end up like my mother. Spending my last days sick and weak from treatment that didn’t work to cure her. “She had treatment but it didn’t take.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Like I said, I feel good about your prognosis, but we do want to be aggressive.”
“You’re not recommending a mastectomy.” To me, that would be aggressive.
“Not at this time.”
Those words suggested that at another time losing my breasts might be a possibility. I didn’t think I was a woman who felt her sense of womanhood was in her tits, and yet, the idea of losing them cut me to the core. How many times had Brayden brought me to climax when he was making love to me by sucking on my nipples? They’d been a source of nourishment for my children when I breastfed them.
“When do I start?”
“I’d like to start next week. We’ll do a short cycle, and then have the surgery next month.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“While the cycle will be short, you’ll have shorter recovery time between each treatment.”
He continued on explaining the process and procedures. By the end of the visit, I had a sense of what I’d need help with, not just in getting to and from the treatment, but afterwards.
While I was nervous, what concerned me the most was my children. I could only imagine how scared they’d be to see me so weak. If I lost my hair, that would further alarm them. And if all this failed, I hated to think about the grief they’d endure. I knew all about that from losing my own mother. At least I’d been older when she died. Lanie and Noah were still so young.
I left the doctor’s office with the intention of heading home. Checking my watch, I still had a little time before the kids would be off from school. I drove to Discovery Park, deciding to try to find a little calm and tranquility before having to hide my fears from my children, and deal with Brayden whenever he got home from work. I walked the trail out to the beach, and watched as the water lapped at the coast.
The day was clear, and looking southeast, I could see Mt. Rainier in the distance. The gray of lower part of the mountain blended into the horizon making it look like the snow-covered peaks were floating. When Brayden and I were first together, he’d taken me hiking and, eventually, camping near the mountain. Growing up with money, I’d never roughed-it before, but I’d loved it. Or maybe it was just being with him. There was a time he could have sat and read the phonebook to me and I’d have been enthralled.
I found a place to sit, and contemplated what I’d do if it turned out my time was limited. Many motivational gurus suggested living each day as if it were the last, but it was possible that my days really were limited. If that was the case, I could have anywhere from a few months to a couple of years left. What would I do with that time?
We were fortunate to have money, which meant we had the resources to live life to the fullest. We could take the kids camping or to Disneyland. Or both. We could hire tutors so they could be home schooled and then I could be around them all day.
I wondered if Brayden would be okay with that. He didn’t like to spend money frivolously, but it didn’t seem to me that using money so I could spend as much time as possible with the kids was frivolous.