A day before I was supposed to have my stitches removed I received a phone call from a random doctor’s office wanting to schedule a surgery. I didn’t think anything of it, but Mark insisted I call my primary care physician. My primary physician’s receptionist asked if I could come in that afternoon and was my husband with me. On the way to the doctor’s office I knew I had cancer. That gut instinct that makes you feel nauseous and jumpy like all you want to do is break into a Forest Gump Run … that gut instinct was kicking me square in the face. There were three things that happened that confirmed my face kicking gut instinct of cancer:
- When Mark and I got to the doctor’s office we didn’t wait. We were immediately ushered into an exam room.
- The doctor walked in two minutes after we sat down in the exam room. Just long enough for me to look over at Mark and say, “You know it’s cancer, right?” He turned green and sunk into his chair.
- The doctor wouldn’t look me in the eye when he walked in the room. His head was hung low like a minister about to give a eulogy or a surgeon about to tell a family he did all he could … or a doctor about to tell a patient she had cancer.
He just shook his head.
“What do we do? I mean, what are my odds? It’s chemo and … I don’t know, what’s the next step.”
The doctor still couldn’t look me in the eyes. And when he did speak all he could say was, “Mindy, this is a really rare form of cancer. I’ve never really even heard of it, till you. I have a specialist set up for you tomorrow. You have to go today to get … blah, blah, blah,”
I tuned out right about there.
I had cancer…
Every time I hear this song it makes me think of that moment…