Hello? Bad News Here.

Every other weekend my youngest goes to his dad’s house. Alone time with my guy is a commodity, so we always make plans to do something special together. Saturday we plan to visit Travares, the seaplane capitol and Mt. Dora. On Sunday we head to Sarasota for brunch and shopping at the new Trader Joes.

Both days are fun filled, spontaneous and wonderful! 

On Sunday, we ate an amazing breakfast at The Breakfast House. We purely stumbled upon this place by happenstance and it's now our favorite.  

Key West Benedict - lobster, shrimp and crab!

Tropical Pancake - pineapple and coconut!

Next we were off to the Shore Diner on Saint Armands Circle for our favorite, the bacon Bloody Mary!

I just bellied up to the bar and my phone rings. It is my doctor. My heart stops. Why is a doctor calling a patient on Sunday? I soon find out. He asks if anyone called me to discuss my pathology report. I know immediately that this is bad news. My eyes well up as he explains the results of the pathology report and how they want to treat this aggressively given my family history of colon cancer. He said the surgery I will need is rather routine and should get me cancer free in no time. Surgery?!? Damn. 

I hang up the phone and can barely speak. Tears roll down my face. Everything around me becomes surreal. I look at Greg, his face has a look I have never seen before. I could barely form two simple sentences, “I have cancer. I need surgery.” He leans over and holds me like a piece of fragile china. “I’m so scared.” I whisper.

The rest of the day my mind races. How can I possibly tell my children I have cancer? How do I tell anyone I have cancer? I feel like people will never see me the same again.  Will people somehow believe this was my fault? Is it my fault or just real shitty genetics?