April 13, 2011

One of the things that I have learned as a widow is that impending "big" dates are hard to deal with. Sometimes I think that the anticipation of the date is often worse than the date itself. In the beginning when Gessner died every Tuesday marked one more week after he passed and I dreaded Tuesdays. He died on the second of the month, so every month I dread the second. Then there was Christmas, New Years, our wedding anniversary, and Valentine's Day. The most recent "big" day that was coming up was Gessner's 34th birthday--or what would have been his birthday. April 13th.

In both my grief support group and in the books that I have read on grieving, people have a lot of different ways to deal with a partner's birthday. Some have a party, some hide in bed, and others pretend that it is another day. I didn't know what to do and racked my brain trying to figure it out. Finally I decided that I would just try to keep myself distracted and do what felt right. I had acupuncture and then coffee with a great friend. After coffee I had a few hours to wait before an art group therapy session, so I decided to do a little retail therapy.

I parked at University Village and started to walk toward one of my favorite places--Barnes & Noble when my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the phone number but it was local and so I picked it up.

"Hello."

"Hello is this Lisa Worthington-Brown?"

"Yes it is."

"Hi Lisa, this is Dr. Browning from Swedish Comprehensive Breast Center. We got your pathology results back and I'm sorry to tell you, but it is cancer."

"Okay."

I sat down on a bench, grabbing a notepad out of my purse to take notes.

"Do you want to know what type of cancer it is?"

"Um, yeah..."

"Well, it's invasive ductal carcinoma. It's the most common type of breast cancer."

She went on to explain that the first step would be to see a surgeon and to say that they had set up an appointment for me. I took down the information, my head still spinning.

"Do you need me to call someone for you?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." Thank you? Thank you for turning my world upside down. I hang up the phone and then realize that tears are streaming down my face. I take a deep breath and start making phone calls, letting people know the news. I have cancer. Those words seem sharp and too big for my mouth. I hear that shock and hurt in the voices of my friends and family. Everyone has questions, and I have very few answers.

A stranger walking by stops and asks if I am okay and I quickly assure that I am fine. But honestly I didn't know what I was. I was in some sort of alternative universe and nothing made sense.

I couple of nurses called, each giving me more information which I dutifully wrote down in my notebook. I finished up my phone calls and went back to my car, forgetting about the book store.

I thought that the worse part about that day would be that it would have been my husband's birthday. But it was worse. It was a day when I should have been celebrating life with the love of mine, but instead was grieving and learning that my life was in danger. That there was tumor inside of me trying to kill me. And that I would have to face that tumor alone. Maybe I won't be here to dread his birthday next year. Or maybe I will have a bittersweet day of grieving for him and celebrating defeat over cancer. Or maybe it will be something else. I'm learning not to trust anything that I think that I know. I don't know life and it doesn't make any sense. I don't know how my husband could have died and how I could have gotten cancer within 6 months. I don't know how I'll be able to make it through this, especially without Gessner. So for now, it is one breath at a time.