Friday the 13th. . .

I have always been proud of my children but never more than today. Todd, Kristy and Paige came with me to the meet the surgeon, Dr. Getz. We left Paige’s husband, Michael, in the field to work. He is the one who will work while the rest of the family goes out to dinner after doctor’s appointments.  After the physical examination we all gathered in Dr. Getz’s office for a discussion of what the next steps would be. The news was not good but what we all expected. My cancer is aggressive. I will have surgery on Friday the 13th of April to remove both breasts and some lymph nodes. Each of my children sucked in air at the mention of Friday the 13th; not because we are superstitious but their father died on Friday the 13th. I explained our reaction to the doctor. Quickly he said, “Perhaps we could change the meaning of that day. Instead of it being the day your dad died; let it be the re-birth of your mother’s life.” I am not sure if it was at that exact moment or the moment the doctor reached out to tightly hug me that sold my kids on this man. I have always told people that my children got their brains from their father but I have also contributed to the adults that they have become. Today it became apparent how strong my kids are. They have learned at an early age that life is sometimes difficult, but it is how you deal with those difficulties that matter. As I looked across my shoulder at those three pairs of eyes, I could see the pain registered there. I could also see them square back their shoulders after the blow of the news and see them begin to dig in their heels to help their mother in any way they can. I will have a brief recovery period after the surgery and then will undergo Chemo therapy. If radiation is needed it will follow the Chemo. And so my uphill battle begins. I know that many are walking this journey with me in their hearts.

Nicki