The dreaded call

I got THE CALL from my primary care physician the very next day. Coincidentally, my son, Patrick, was home from Bellingham that evening because the high school girls' basketball team he had been coaching was in the state playoffs. A feeling of resolution swept through me as I read the caller ID. I knew that the news couldn't be good coming so quickly after the biopsy. I knew that I would be hearing words for which there is no preparation. I knew that I would need all my intelligence, my strength, my determination and my loved ones to get through the mess that awaited on the other end of the telephone line. I took a deep breath, lifted the receiver and listened as Dr. R told me that the pathology report came back and it indicated that I had DCIS or ductal carcinoma in situ. I wasn't surprised, but as she spoke my mind wandered picturing the hours or treatment, the altered schedules, the inability to ever feel confident in my health again. She asked me if I had any questions and the only one I had was "what's next?" Dr R told me that I had been referred to surgery and to expect a call in the next few days. As I thanked her, I heard Patrick call Michael and tell him "Mom's on the phone with her doctor and you better get home as soon as possible." Michael must have been almost home because within minutes he was in the kitchen and I was in his arms. He told me what he has continued to say throughout this ordeal "we will get through this together. You are not alone. You can do great things."