it's nothing

littlebird75

its nothing

september 11, 2009
my Doctor's voice "its not good news"
i'll be right there, i said before breaking down into tears

stinging tears of reality
of un-reality
and a flash of black
the same black from the ultra-sound screen
the same black
i knew then "it's not good news"

my optimism hadn't paid off
its nothing, i told my Husband
mention it, He said
i will
and i did expecting, its nothing
instead getting orders for
mammogram, ultra-sound
are you fucking kidding? i said to myself
what happened to, its nothing

i went
and waited for, its nothing
it didn't come
only fear
fear that turned my insides out
when i saw black on the ultra-sound screen
i kept looking
eyes glued to the screen
and realizing
"its not good news"
was staring me in the face

We'll fit you in
biopsy to follow
the fear
same day merely turned me more to jello
alone
i laid on the cold bed
with England
and a needle gun
and tried again to see, its nothing
on the screen
but it wasn't there
i had to turn away

and wait

"it's not good news"
i called my Husband
we went to gather the
"it's not good news" together
i didn't cry

till five days later
when i begged him to tell me
tell me You're scared too
tell me

but he wouldn't

He says
this is who I am
I am here
I will not burden you with Myself
even though that is all i want

days pass
MRI, genetic testing
phone calls out my ass
to Friends
to Family
with questions i can't answer

i decide
to expect
the worst
its nothing
wasn't working
for me

they will take both
i will not be me anymore
just some masquerade
something not me
pretending to be me

and i cried
screamed
shook
and in public i smiled the pretend smile of,
its nothing

and somehow, its nothing it found me
in a fucked up sort of way
i got the best case scenario of the worst case scenario
as my Daughter put it

and I get to keep them
just not all of them

and I will struggle
and I will lose My hair
and I will live
and it will be,
Nothing.

And Everything.

My name is Cindy. I'm 34, married and a mother of two teenagers. I have learned I have invasive ductal carcinoma - stage II as far as I know right now. Positive for Estrogen and Testosterone and Negative for HERS2. I wrote the poem above after learning a 2nd area found on the MRI was negative for cancer, making me a candidate for lumpectomy rather than a masectomy. I just wanted to share my thoughts leading to that moment with the people here on the board.

Waiting for surgery is not nearly as painful as waiting for the final diagnosis! I know there are so many people going through the same thing. I felt selfish for my tears, but I know now that it's ok to cry if you feel like crying, its ok to be still if you feel like being still, its ok just to keep putting one foot in front of the other if that's all you can bear in that moment.

I'm sure as surgery, chemo and radiation begin I'll be looking here for insight and connection from others who've been there.

We are not in this alone.