A pity party for one…
As I left the OB office a huge wave of realization and fear crashed over me. With eyes stinging with tears I rushed to the safety of my car and tried calling my husband [DH from now on]. It went to his answering machine which made me really really angry and I proceeded to have a huge meltdown right there in the parking lot of the OB office. It is amazing how weak a person gets when faced with the thought of their own mortality. I did not even have a diagnosis yet but my brain linked the words lump=cancer=death. However illogical that may seem that moment sitting there in that car bawling my eyes out my only thoughts were about not seeing my kids grow up. Amidst this pity party of one my phone rang and I picked it up assuming it was my DH; instead it was my colleague from work with a question. She probably heard the squeak in my voice and inquired if I was OK and that is probably when I lost all control. I proceeded to between heaving sobs tell her all about the day from hell I have been having. My unsuspecting colleague C who had probably called to see if a code was ready yet got to hear a earful of how I am gonna die and not see my kids graduation.
I am lucky to work with an amazing posse of few of the strongest women I have ever known. Each of them have had their own personal struggles but have always been their for each other. C will probably never know how much pouring my heart out in those unintelligible mumblings helped me that day. She did not try to fix things, she did not say she was sorry, she did not offer suggestions. Instead she told me it was ok to cry and speak and that she had nothing better to do. Giving voice to what I was feeling that day made me see the ridiculousness of my thought process. I did not have a diagnosis and I certainly had not been handed down a death sentence. Gradually my realistic brain took over and I calmed down. I probably would have been there for a lot more time crying if she had not called when she did.
As I left the parking lot DH called. By this time I was already very calm and matter of fact and when I spoke to him he did not get to hear the uncertainty in my voice or the shudder in my tone. Believe me this was a good thing because DH is not a man who handles crisis well. He asked me if he should return that day but I told him not to as the breast surgeon visit was just diagnostic and him being there would be of no use. It was a short and composed conversation very dissimilar to the one I had with C a few minutes earlier. For once I was glad DH had not picked up the phone when I called.
