...was telling my Mom.
My sister died at 30 -- suddenly. That was almost 7 years ago.
I don't have any other siblings. Just the word "cancer" is so scary to say, I really did dread telling her about the diagnosis. Of course, I was telling her before we knew that it hadn't spread....
Of course, after I told her Mom was wonderful. She was here for a while after my surgery and she'll be here when I need her during chemo... as a semi-retired nurse, she was very helpful. She's taken on the role of being the family nurse --- which usually entails going to Florida for a few weeks to help my grandparents or aunt with something --- not me. But, she's also figured out how to be available but not obtrusive -- plus, she 's generally great company, so that helps.
After telling Mom, telling my Dean, my close friends and my Dissertation Supervisor was pretty easy.
It was also kind of hard to put it out to all of you -- only because I was letting the last group of people who 'knew' me before the cancer see me as a cancer patient.
That's the thing -- when I'm done with chemo, and after it works exactly like it is supposed to -- I will have survived breast cancer, but I'm not about to make that my identity. I have way too many other things to BE -- wife, daughter, professor, philosopher etc... that breast cancer survivor isn't going to be high enough on my list to make an impact.
--- and, while I want to thank y'all for your kind words and support -- the best thing I can do sometimes is to pretend I don't have breast cancer -- So, I don't want the blog to be all cancer, all the time... besides, that would be really really f-ing depressing....