I’m sitting alone and sobbing. Earlier this week, my beautiful, healthy, 28-year-old daughter was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her life will never be the same, and neither will mine. It was a random act of cruelty.
Very recently, she had moved to another part of the country, and started a new job at a wonderful hospital. Ironically, she worked at the cancer institute. But less than two months later, she went from employee to patient.
She is still in the test taking process to discover if the cancer is contained, or has metastasized. On Monday, I felt I’d received the worst possible news. But now, I’m worrying that next week’s news could be even worse. The doctor’s words – large aggressive tumor, and this has been here for a while – keep swirling through my mind. My entire being is filled with terror.
When I wake up each morning, the first thought that crosses my mind is – “my daughter has cancer”. Then I feel exhausted, and my limbs feel like they are being held down by 1,000 lb. weights. Within seconds of waking, I burst into tears from this terrible twist of fate.
I keep thinking this should be happening to me, not her. Whoever said that life is fair?