When I Heard the Word "Cancer"

A little over a month ago, I took Anthony to the emergency room on a Sunday evening. We thought he might be having a gallbladder attack. Five weeks, a multitude of tests, and seven doctors later, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Inoperable. A far cry from gallstones.

When I first heard the word "cancer" in a sentence with Anthony's name, it hit me like a ton of bricks...

I grabbed one hand with the other and squeezed.....hard. Then, I grabbed my knees...both of them were shaking uncontrollably...and tried to settle myself. What happened to the chair I was sitting on? I couldn't feel it beneath me, but I decided it had to be there because I wasn't sitting on the floor!

I rubbed my eyes. I didn't remember falling asleep, but it sure felt like I was stuck in a bad dream. Everything looked blurry...I think a few stubborn tears, from the torrent I was desperately fighting back, pushed their way through in an attempt to soften the truth that was far too painful to see.

I scratched at my ears, pushing my fingers in as far as I could. I considered keeping them plugged up so I didn't have to hear anything the doctor was saying. Knowing I must listen, I unplugged them, but all I could hear was a terrible ringing sound that made me feel like I was spinning around in the middle of a tornado.

I opened my mouth and I heard words coming out, but they didn't match the words that were screaming inside my head. From my mouth came the calm, steady words of an intelligent woman asking intelligent questions. At the same time, my brain was screaming, over and over again, hysterically, like a frantic child, "Oh my God, O my God, he has pancreatic cancer!"

Yes, Anthony has pancreatic cancer. At first, it sounded so strange to say these words, it's still scary to hear them, and when I write them down or type them out, it's almost as if they're written in a foreign language. But, with each day, the reality starts to sink in, and I begin to think a little more clearly. Gradually, I find myself less afraid and more determined than ever to help Anthony beat this disease.

Anthony and I do everything together, so facing his cancer together comes naturally to us. We are armed with our deep faith in God, a love for each other that can only be described as epic, and the prayerful and loving support of our family and so many dear friends. We also believe in miracles. When you believe in miracles, it's impossible to lose hope.