Diagnosis - June 7, 2008

Okay, so this was supposed to be a good day. Morgan and I had bought a new bed frame and night stand for our bedroom back in April and it was finally getting delivered today. Morgan was just getting ready to leave for work when the men from Value City showed up with our bed and night stand. It looks awesome and feels even better to lay in. I was so excited to go to sleep that night in our new bed!! Later on in the morning I did some small chores and talked to my mom a couple times. Then at 10:35 a.m. I got a call from my surgeon. The thought of "Oh crap this can't be good if a doctor is calling me at home on a Saturday morning" was the first thing that went through my head. Then she said something I will never forget, "Angie, the pathology reports just came back and it was what we feared, you have the Inflammatory Breast Cancer."

How is someone supposed to deal with a call like that, especially someone sitting on her couch by herself at home? Morgan had left for work about an hour before. The doctor went on to describe what would happen and that she wanted to see me on Monday to go over what the plan of action is. The best thing she said is to me is "We ARE going to beat this."

After I hung up the phone the only thing I could do was cry. Was I going to be one of the statistics of women my age that was going to die from breast cancer at 28?!?! How could this be happening to me?? Why was this happening to me??? Out of all the women in the world, I drew the short straw evidently.

I picked up the phone and I don't care who you are, if you have a good relationship with your parents, even if you are married to the best man in the world, the first person you want to call with news like this is your mom. So that is what I did. She picked up the phone and I told her that I had just heard from the doctor with the results of the pathology done on my samples. "Mom, I have breast cancer," was all I could get out before the tears came. I don't know if my mom started crying right away or if it was just me, but I don't remember much of the conversation after that other than her saying her and my dad were coming up to Wisconsin as soon as he got off work and my mom would stay with me all week because of the tests I was going to be having - my dad would have to go home to work two days and then he was taking the rest of the week off to be up here as well.

I then had the second hardest call to make, I had to call my husband. As I was getting ready to call him, he called me. He said I just felt like I should call you to see how you are doing. That's when I delivered the news to him. By this point I'm all cried out, and he has decided that he thinks he should come home right away. I told him that that wasn't necessary because I was going to be fine. I would just see him in 5 hours when he got off work. 30 minutes goes by and here he is walking through the door crying. At that point I decalared a No Cry Zone! I told him and my mom that crying wasn't going to help anything. Me getting pissed, upset, depressed or crying was just going to take the energy I needed to fight this disease. And when the time came (and I know it will) when I need to crash a little, I need to know that someone is going to be there and be strong for me, instead of me being strong for everyone else. He agreed and after an hour or so, he stopped crying as much.

About four hours later, my parents arrived and I informed my mom of the No Cry Zone so anytime she wanted to cry she needed to leave the room I was in because if my mom and I see eachother crying you better go buy some Kleenex, because we don't stop for a while. She cried a little as did Morgan and then we talked about the plan for Monday with my doctor's appointment being at 9:00 a.m. I think it was hard on my dad because we are so close and he had to leave on Sunday so he couldn't be at the doctor's appointment with me. That night, my parents stayed in my apartment, and the bed I was so looking forward to sleeping in...became their bed for the night. Grrr. My bed consisted of being the couch - which I normally get awesome sleep on, just not that night. Morgan was going to sleep on the futon in the back bedroom, but he refused to leave me and instead slept on the floor next to the couch. I even had to get up in the middle of the night to go to the restroom and as I was coming out, he woke up and was standing up to make sure nothing was wrong with me.

I do have to say that I don't know how people go through this without a family like mine. They are there every step of the way and more supportive than I could ever ask them to be. If there is one blessing to come out of this, I would say that it has brought me closer to my mom, and my husband. God's plan is a goofy one!