me and my three

 - by Beth

No, that’s not three kids. Just two around here, last time I checked.

We’ve received the full pathology report from last week’s surgery, and the news was mixed. First, the good news: no more surgery! Well, for now. The bad news: the cancer had reached ten lymph nodes. This is a lot. The high number means I have a stage 3 cancer, not the stage 2 we had expected. My chemotherapy cocktail, the details of which we’ll learn next week, will be as aggressive as possible. It will be very hard. It will be harder than running uphill at noon in summer. It will be harder than growing and expunging babies. It will be like that moment in The Avengers when Iron man flies into the portal and no one knows if he will make it back to the earth in time!  But he does.  And I will too. (Idea! Wear superhero cape to chemo.)

Since the initial shock of the questionable ultrasound and through each step we have walked so far, we have adjusted the scope of what we can handle. It takes time to adjust to new information. It took time to accept cancer, and time to accept the treatment and surgery. We had reached a good place where we could carry on with our lives with that news, but seeing the stage on that report was enough to send us down again. We cry, we hold on to each other, and it takes some time to crawl up again. I say to myself, You are strong. This is easy for you. Today I am one day closer to being cancer free.