The diagnosis
She nodded as she showed me the stack of papers. “Yes, this is lymphoma”. She was saying something else, and I saw her lips moving. I could hear myself answering. Inside I was thinking “this is what it’s like to be aware that you’re in shock.” I’d seen my labs. I’d Googled the shit out of my white blood cell counts, my lymphocyte levels. I had come to the conclusion that I either had CLL or SLL. I even had a running joke with myself that since this fatigue had a more serious cause than the chronic pain I was in, maybe a cancer diagnosis was enough to keep my relatives off my back, and their “helpful” suggestions to themselves. But the feeling of knowing your body was making something that could hurt or kill you? I’d had that feeling before. And it wasn’t a pleasant one. “… take your blood for some additional lab work. I’m a bit concerned that your condition might be more aggressive than we have the resources to treat here. If so, I can refer you to someplace that has…” I know I said something. God only knows what. What would it be like to have cancer? via GIPHY The next thing I know there was a nurse there, taking my blood. I was still in shock but I wasn’t devastated. Maybe because I had three months to get used to the idea. Maybe I won’t be crushed until I start chemo, and begin to have