Take No Prisoners

It was early, the Oncologist’s office wasn’t even technically open yet to see patients. However, due to a injury the Oncologist I was seeing had suffered the day before, they had asked me to come in first thing this morning since he was going to be going in for surgery this afternoon. Jason and I sat in the waiting room; nerves were getting to me just as bad as they were to Jason, at one point he couldn’t take it anymore and excused himself to the restroom (I’m pretty sure vomiting took place).

As timing would have it, as soon as he left the waiting room a nurse came out and spotted me, “Oh! I didn’t know you were already here! Jessica, right?” I looked up from my iPhone, leg bouncing in a nervous manner and nodded my head. “Well, come on back! No need for you to wait out here!”, I followed her back into an exam room and waited. I told her my husband had come with me but was in the restroom at the moment and asked if she would keep an eye out for him. She left and then the Oncologist walked in holding my chart. A solemn look was on his face and in a thick Brazilian accent he said, “Well, my assumptions were right. You have Chronic myelogenous leukemia.” And then in a surprised tone he said, “I can’t believe you came here by yourself for the news!” At that point, I’m pretty sure all color washed away from my face, tears started to well in the corners of my eyes and I pointed at the door and said, “My husband. He’s in the restroom…”

“OH! I’ll… I’ll give you a few minutes. I apologize.” And he slipped out of the room. At that moment I was alone, I felt like my entire world had just crashed into the ground. All I could think was, “Leukemia. Cancer.” Those two words kept repeating in my head, over and over again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, another nurse came into the room with Jason and she began to monitor my vitals. “CML… I have CML….” Was all I could say. Jason immediately sat down, took my hand in his and said, “It’s OK. You’re going to get through this, you’re a strong woman.. You’re going to kick it’s ass.”

The next several hours were a blur to me. The medication I’m going to start taking was explained to us, along with the risks and side effects. I honestly don’t remember a whole lot, other than crying and feeling so many emotions surge through me, I still cannot make heads or tails of anything. I feel like I’m suffering from the worst case of tunnel vision, ever.

After we were finally done at the hospital, we went to the grocery store to get me a bottle of water. I sat in the car looking over paperwork that explains my current “disease”, Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia. I re-read those words a thousand times probably. At that point, I was getting too angry and I tossed the paperwork on the back seat then opened the vanity mirror to look at my reflection. I took a couple deep breaths, wiped the tears from my face and looked myself square in the eye, “Okay.. You, have leukemia. You are going to beat this, no matter what it takes.”

Jason got back in the car, settled into the drivers seat and handed me the bottle of water. I cracked open the medication packet, retrieved two pills and held them in the palm of my hand. I then looked over at Jason and said, “Well, here’s the start of kicking it’s ass.”