I have all my family sleeping in the same bedroom the first night after it was confirmed that I have breast cancer. Stage 3.
I lay there with them in the dim room, wide awake, trying to get some sleep after the harrowing day. I finally gave up and got up and walked around where there is some space left on the floor and watched the dear faces in repose. Everyone's asleep except JB and Camille.
There's my 82 year old mom on the sofa by the window. She took the news as if it was nothing unusual and sleeping now like a baby. My daughter Jaybee said she's either in a state of denial or she is too old and her mind is no longer able to understand what is going on. Whatever it is, I'm just hoping that her own mind is protecting her from all of these.
Cita and her husband lay side by side. Tired out from the trip they took to check out a real estate property somewhere in the mountains with a client.
Thess is snoring softly beside Mitch, who missed work today to hover over me when the doctor read the results of my biopsy. Thess is so tired after running my errands, cooking for the family and generally doing ordinary tasks that everyone had forgotten to do. Of all of them, Thess, my eldest sister and my second mom is the one sacrificing a great part of herself to see me through this.
Jaybee and Camille each have their Notebooks open and like me, couldn't sleep. The three girls, Mitch,Camille and JB were with me when the doctor called. They were the first ones to cry, the first ones to hear it confirmed that I have breast cancer.
Camille has a bad cold, so maybe that is what is keeping her awake. I looked at my daughter Jaybee, the child of my heart. She's doing facebook and I thought she was bearing up well, until I saw her face, eyes red rimmed and swollen from a bout of crying, staring blankly at the screen.
And so I sat there, watching everyone, trying to gauge the extent of their pain in hearing the bad news. Some more than the other, I'm sure. Even baby Stephie did not fall asleep until after midnight. And that is after I cuddled her and sang her to sleep. She can't figure out why Mamita won't hold her close anymore, why she can't horseplay with her like she used to.
Earlier, Steve and I talked about my condition, we both cried over it. The usually strong man who never allows me to think negative thoughts, nor allows me to buckle under pressure sounded on the edge of desperation. Between the miles from here to Canada, I can sense the bitter taste of despair in his words. He tried to cheer me up, encouraged me to believe that I will survive like all the other women who did, and then ended up saying that I must try to overcome this because he will die if he
loses me. He talked about selling the house, he filed for an early retirement, he was making plans left and right that are out of place from the already ironed out plans we have for our future. I had to ask him to slow down and not make hasty decisions we will regret later.
Cancer is a horrible disease. It tries to kill not only you, but all the people who love you as well. Not physically, but emotionally. I don't know how we will all face the next few months. I promise myself I will not let anything to sway me from my faith. I don't deserve this, no one does. But anything that happens in this world was allowed by God for a reason. And that reason is for our own profit.
I have my family to pray with me. I have friends all over the world praying for me now in their churches. If two or three are gathered together in His name, then God is there in the midst of them. So, there's no reason why God shouldn't hear my request to help me get well for myself and for my family.
