You know those images where you can see the actual thing you’re looking at and its reflection all in the same image? The ones that reflect the right side up AND the the upside down version of what you’re looking at? That pretty much sums up the next week of our lives.
Mind you, I’m writing this from the perspective of the spouse of someone receiving this diagnosis, not the person actually receiving the diagnosis. I’ve tried to imagine what that would be like, tried to have him verbalize it, but how can you do that when you can’t wrap your mind around it yourself?
We told only our parents and siblings that first week. Then we spent the next 6 days going about our lives like they were right side up. We went to work and didn’t tell anyone, we talked in hushed tones downstairs after the kids went to bed so they wouldn’t overhear us, and we spent our fair share of time just kind of staring blankly at one another, like, “what in the world just happened?!”
An upside down existence in a right side up world.
We met with the oncologist March 6. He was great. He was patient, he answered all of our questions (and there were many) but still, he was the deliverer of the diagnosis: Multiple Myeloma. A cancer of the plasma cells in the bone marrow. There would be tests to confirm, of course, but the big “C” was now a very real thing in our lives.
We scheduled a plethora of tests and a follow-up appointment before we left that day. When we meet again, all the results will be in and the doctor will have “a stage and a plan.”
A stage and a plan? The words haven’t even fully sunk in yet.
An upside down existence in a right side up world, for sure.