It’s taken me weeks to write about my diagnosis.

Maybe I don’t want to relive the awful day I learned I had cancer.

Perhaps I don’t want the pain of how I felt that day—the unknowns, the fear, the loss, to creep in again.

Whatever the case, it’s time to write about it.

Talk about it.

Grieve it.

So here we go.

A Trip To The Doctor

My mother told me to go to a primary care doctor for my cough since the walk-in clinic didn’t help me. (To learn about my cough, read about my signs of cancer here.)

I didn’t have a primary care doctor at the time. I was a new patient trying to find a doctor. I thought it would be weeks to a month before I was able to be treated.

To my surprise, the doctor told me to come in right after work.

The doctor was so great! He listened to my lungs, and said it sounded like pneumonia. He sent me home with pneumonia medicine and told me I would be off work for the rest of the week. The doctor wanted me to come in the following morning for a chest X-ray.

I didn’t think anything of it.

Home, to bed, and rest up for the morning.

The Chest X-Ray That Changed My Life

The next morning, I woke up and went back to the doctor’s office and headed towards the x-ray.

I was thinking about what I was going to pick up from Chick-fil-a on the way home.

I had pneumonia so I deserved to treat myself!

In the middle of the x-ray, the tech said nervously,

“Have you ever had problems with your lungs before?”

Anxiety flooded over me. I could tell something wasn’t right.

“No..” I quietly responded.

She then asked me to have a seat.

What was happening? Why did I need to sit down??

“I’m going to have the doctor look over your x-ray.” the tech stated.

I sat there in silence for a moment. I tried to be brave.

Little did I know that was the first of many, many moments I would have to be brave.

But I wasn’t brave.

I began to have a panic attack.

I couldn’t breathe. I knew something was wrong.

The tech ran over and tried to calm me down.

Suddenly the doctor came in and looked over my x-ray. She told me everything would be okay, but asked me to go back to a patient room– they wanted to get my vitals. I asked them if my husband could please come, and they said yes.

My husband showed up; it was so comforting to see him.

My vitals were stable, my oxygen was a little low–94.

The nurses made me walk the halls and see how out of breath I got. The doctors were going to decide if I needed to be sent to the hospital or go home based on how I did.

I remember I wanted to go home, but deep down, I wanted to go to the hospital. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.

I texted my father and asked him to pray that the medical team would make the best decision for me.

My doctor came in and said they were sending me home since my vital signs were staying stable.

I felt a sense of relief, and yet confusion.

What was going on with my lungs then, if it wasn’t pneumonia?

The next thing I know, the doctor came back into my room and said I needed to be seen at the hospital.

I’m not sure what changed, but I am thankful that it did.

Perhaps it was the prayers of my dad–that the medical team would make the best decision for me. The best decision at that time was definitely for me to be at the hospital.

Day 1 of Hospitalization

Little did I know, this would be day 1 of 34 in the hospital.

My husband drove me to our local hospital, and the whole ride I was trying not to completely freak out. I imagined I had a severe case of pneumonia, maybe even sepsis!

Cancer never crossed my mind.

After a long wait at the hospital, I was sent in for another x-ray. (Because apparently faxing my results from my x-ray a couple hours prior wasn’t an option).

Meanwhile, I texted my family what was going on.

Everyone was concerned, but not worried. I sent my loving husband off to the nearest coffee shop, to bring us back some caffeine to make it through this day.

Moments after my husband left, a nurse came in and says they need me to take a CT.

Tears came flooding out of me.

Why do I need a CT? What was wrong with me?

During the cat scan, I felt the Lord gave me a peace. I felt him smiling down on me, as if He was speaking “Everything is going to be okay. I’ve gone before you. You can trust me.”

The CT was over, and my husband was back with our coffees with oat milk.

I told him about my scan– he seemed confused, but not panicked. We still thought it was pneumonia.

Perhaps in the hustle and bustle of life I had run myself ragged.

Pushed myself too hard. My body needed rest. I was exhausted which led to this bad sickness.

Right? I was a healthy, active, working mother of 2 about to be slapped in the face with a life’s-not-fair-verdict.

Ultrasound for my lungs

Next on the agenda for the day was when I was sent for ultrasound.

A nurse comes into my room and says they need me in ultrasound.

Ultrasound?! What in the world is going on?

Immediately I started to cry as I was wheeled down the long hallways of the hospital.

My husband held my hand as they began to do a thoracentesis- a procedure to remove fluid from the lungs. Yes, it sounds as painful as it was.

But suddenly, suddenly, I could breathe!

I could breathe better than I had in a month.

I took a deep, deep breath and it felt so good.

I looked over and saw the amount of fluid taken off my lungs. This giant jar sitting on a table –just full.

It was 1.3. liters of fluid.

I asked my husband to snap a picture for my memory.

Maybe this was it, I’m done. I can breathe. I can go home.

You Have Cancer

We were sent back to the hospital room where we waited.

We didn’t know what we waited for at the time. We didn’t know what awaited us was news that would change our lives.

A doctor came to our doorway. (*note, not my bedside!)

“We found a mass on your chest. It looks like you have cancer. We think it’s Lymphoma.”

And then the doctor left.

Silence.

Spencer and I looked at each other.

And then his head fell on my bed as he began to cry.

And then I began to cry.

The First Things We Did After Learning About Cancer Diagnosis

I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. We were lost.

I told my husband to call our pastor. He came to the hospital and cried and prayed with us.

As time went on, I texted my mom and my dad and asked them both to come to the hospital–together. They knew something was wrong when I said to “come together.”

My in-laws came later, and we also asked both of them to come together.

It was heartbreaking to tell people I love so much, that I had cancer. It’s words I never wanted to say.

My mother wept at my bedside and told me how I didn’t deserve it. My father sat stunned, held my hand, and spoke scriptures over me–they both assured me we would get through this.

My mother-in-law looked at me, confused, and with tears in her eyes said “No, I don’t receive this!” My father-in-law who is a cancer warrior stood quietly in solace and told me I was strong and it would be okay.

I face timed my brother and sister who live far away.

They were both in shock.

“No.” They both exclaimed.

Disbelief.

As my family came to know, the questions started coming. But at this point, we didn’t have many answers. We didn’t know what type of cancer it was, what stage, what my diagnosis what, what my prognosis was, ect.

Waiting was the hardest.

It would be almost a week later until we had answers.

I know how fast word spreads, especially in my small town. I was adamant that my closest friends and family heard the news from me.

Over the next two days, Spencer and our parents kept things rather quiet as I began to have friends visit me in the hospital, and I told them of my diagnosis.

I just wasn’t ready to tell everyone.

Maybe it was denial.

Maybe it was that once I said it, it would make it real.

But when I finally did share, I was met with so much love and support.

Which would help carry me in the weeks to come…