Hanging On While Letting Go
Bogey's favorite swing So I stood there numbly and dumbly, pushing my son in his favorite swing, unsure what to do next. As this was happening, I reasoned that he was perfectly safe and happy so I could indulge in a mental check out. I tried to think but it sounded like a hive of bees had taken up residence inside my head. I had both called and shown up to the office in person requesting a set of my labs, only to be rebuffed until the Doctor called me directly. I had given up hope that I would get answers this day, as the office had closed 30 minutes or so before the call came. Squamous Cell Carcinoma. I had skin cancer. My brain reeled back to nursing school reaching for recall of the skin cancer lectures. Basal cell? Least scary. What were the really scary words? Malignant melanoma. Where did Squamous fall? I couldn't remember. I continued to push my boy in swing like an automaton, trying to push away thoughts of not being around to raise him. Tears pour