Yesterday, my dad, sister, brother and I went with my mom to meet her oncologist (my other brother had to work). He had reviewed her scan from the day before and had some news for us.
It wasn't the news we wanted to hear.
The doctor, an M.D. and a PhD, seemed very smart, but he spoke fast, gave a lot of information, and used technical words. We had to ask him to repeat himself many times. He lightened up at the end, though. I feel confident in him, but we will have to work with him to make sure we understand what he's telling us.
I will admit that I, all week, had been telling myself that if I wanted to hear good news (and I hadn't really decided what "good" news would actually be, I just had a vague expectation of something like, "Oh! She'll be OK!"), and if I told people not to worry, that things would work out, I wouldn't worry, and it would all be fine. When you make that decision to live in hope, and reality is a little different, it's a pretty big deal. I guess I switched to the third person there to make it feel a little less personal.
Anyway, there are more tests to be done, so you know what? Keeping it all a tiny bit vague still feels okay to me.
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