Telling People

I don’t remember who we told first. I don’t remember telling anyone really. To say it was all a blur is a gigantic understatement. After we met with the initial doctors (medical oncologist, radiation oncologist and surgical oncologist), and finalized a plan of action, I think that’s when it became really real and we started telling people.

I had to have a port placed on December 18th and I believe it was only days before a large Christmas party. We slowly had started telling close friends and family the week before, as we knew I was starting the hard chemo at the beginning of January. One thing I’ll never forget is no one, not a single person, at a 50 plus person Christmas party, that I’d been attending since I started dating my husband in high school, said a single word to me about it. Not a “how are you feeling?”, “do you need anything?”, “when do you start chemo?” Nothing. I remember feeling so very alone. That no one understood, I mean, how could they? Even more than that, I didn’t want them to, but I just wanted people to talk about it. Ask me something, say something. Don’t act like I’m already dead.

We sat in a corner, just the five of us, me, Kevin, and the three kids and I wondered if this would be my last Christmas party, after 20 or so of them. I wondered if this would be my last Christmas. I wondered if there was a chance I’d see these kids grow up. We left early and I cried all the way home. We haven’t been back to that Christmas Party since.