I can’t get over it.
I can’t get over the fear that entered my heart when I first wondered if it was cancer. Or the way my mind raced through terrifying possibilities of what could happen next. Or the anxiousness of getting that phone call with the test results. Or how my spirits sunk as the doctor talked about tumors and oncology. I can’t get over the nightmare I lived when we heard the three dreaded words, “you have cancer.”
I can’t get over it.
I can’t get over the darkness that consumed my soul in those first few days. Or the stress of coordinating biopsies, scans, and appointments with specialists. Or the isolation I felt as I realized this disease only affected the most unlucky few. Or the concern as most of the names I found were from obituaries rather than survival. I can’t get over how my heart was ripped to shreds as I learned how elusive our future was.
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