it's all about me; breast cancer

I must be dreaming. Actually, it’s a nightmare

it's all about me; breast cancer

Not sure what it was but something made me check my phone that Saturday morning.  There’s a new message: can you come over?

Me: is everything OK?

Dani: no.

Faster than I have ever moved in the morning (mornings and Sarah don’t go in the same sentence) I am in the truck and on my way – fur on my teeth and all. Thoughts are running wild but I am 99.5% sure of what I am about to hear.

I get to my bestie’s and let myself in. Huh. No hubby. No kiddos. I am now 99.7% sure.

I sit at the island in her kitchen. My head is spinning but I’m pretty sure hers’ is spinning more by the state of the kitchen. “Stacy is on her way. I can only do this once.”

Now I know for sure.

Stace arrives and sits beside me. “Sorry I look like a mess. I just threw some clothes on and my hair up.”

Sheesh. If that’s a mess then what the heck am I in my pajamas with hair looking like I just stepped out of an 80’s prom?!

Dani braces herself on the island across from us. “I have breast cancer.” 

I’ve just been sucker punched! Words escape me. This is not what I expected to hear. This has got to be a dream. No, actually it’s a nightmare. Wake up. NOW!

She continues to relay what has happened over the last few weeks. Tears prick the back of my eyes. Do not do this. Do not cry. She needs you to be strong right now. 

I act stoic – or think I am. If I don’t wipe away the tears, maybe she won’t see them streaming down my face. Get your shit together woman. She doesn’t need to deal with your blubbering right now.

“Bah! What do I need my boobs for anyway? James is an ass man!” Outbursts of laughter ensue. In true Dani fashion she is able to comfort us with her humour. I don’t know if my tears are of sorrow or amusement. We wrap our arms around each other and squeeze  tighter than ever before. I don’t want to let go. 

Stacy, Dani and I chat for another couple of hours. About what? Who knows. It’s a complete blur.

James comes home. He has taken the boys to his mom’s for the night so he and Dani can start to digest the news. Stacy gives me the sign. We hug and say our good-byes. 

I don’t even have her front door shut before I am a sobbing mess. What does this mean? When will I wake up from this nightmare?


2 Responses

  1. I had already read this post sometime after you posted it…and I again felt the chills. It reminds me of the day my dad told us he had prostate cancer.

    You’re a fantastic friend!!! <3


  2. Pingback : Breast Cancer: Everyone Has a Story - Life In Pleasantville

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