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One Lump or Two Without the Coffee
Cancer isn’t sweet.
What happens to the psyche when you’re waiting for news, not yet sure if it’s good or it’s bad? I’m in that predicament with a heart that yearns to stay positive, but a mindset that isn’t sure. Rumour has it that there’s little sense in worrying because it won’t change the outcome, but to fret is my pattern — a learned response that’s difficult to break.
But in this darkened hour, I see my resilience is showing. Pushing past tears of discomfort and fear, I see a light at the end of the tunnel. There’s something to be said of that. I am fortunate to have the capacity to choose where I place my focus — to recognize that harping on whether the lump I found is cancer or a cyst will show itself with time.
The tests are done, now all I need to do is await the verdict. The jury is out; I strive for a positive judgment in my favour.
Breast cancer is not common in my family, however, a couple of cousins dealt with it in their lifetime. One succumbed to the disease; the other beat it only to pass away due to other causes. The fact that close relatives are cancer-free is an encouraging sign in my favour. But nothing stops me from being the first. Cancer always needs to start somewhere.
