Enter the Fray

"Surprisingly I'm quite calm," I respond to my sister-in-law's text. She can't imagine the stress on me right now. "My faith gives me uncommon strength because I know all will be well whether this side of heaven or not," I write. And I do believe that.

AND then, today happens. My doctor messages me through my portal that she agrees contacting Boston sooner rather than later makes sense. I'm in my car, leaving Walmart, when I see her message. My hands shake as I gather my thoughts. Can I do this on my phone right now? Within seconds the Dana Farber contact form pops up. Name, birth date, email, phone number. Easy enough. Then the diagnosis pull-down list. Brain tumors, breast cancer, gastrointestinal cancer. Nope. As I scroll I begin to wonder if angiosarcoma is listed. I scroll past all the different kinds of leukemia and then it pops out at me under the heading Sarcoma (Adult), "angiosarcoma." 

There it is. It's time to truly enter the fray. I click SUBMIT.

Less than an hour later as I sit with my best friend from high school having lunch, my phone rings. A 617 number with Healthcare in the caller ID. They received my request for an appointment. She doesn't see the pathology report. I explain the situation. She will call me back after talking with the doctors to find out if we should wait on the Cleveland Clinic's second opinion. The actual tissue sample sits somewhere in a lab in Cleveland, Ohio. Dana Farber needs it before any decisions can be made about treatment.

Before we finish our lunch I receive a second phone call. My napkin is my paper. I jot down Tuesday, December 10 at 2pm, and the names of a surgeon and medical oncologist who I will meet with. 

All of this is provisional on the Cleveland Clinic timely response.

It's difficult to know exactly how this step has impacted me. I'm sad. Now it seems more real for some reason. I'm not so sure I'm as calm as I think I am. Images of the near future run through my mind. Drives into Boston. Caroline juggling her busy schedule between work and 3 kids' activities. It's overwhelming to contemplate.

It is real. It is happening. Oh God, let me see and feel your presence.