The Journey: Disbelief

I am sitting up in the emergency room chatting away with my husband.  I seem to have pulled a muscle in my knee and we're waiting for the results of an x-ray.  The Physician's Assistant who examined me suggested that maybe it was osteoarthritis since "most people my age have a bit of it".  Either way, I'm  not too worried;  the pain is not at all severe, I've never even taken a tylenol for it.  It is more of a nuisance  which I am sure can probably be fixed with an elastic bandage and maybe a muscle relaxer.  Our mood is actually rather cheerful, considering my previous experiences with hospitals and emergency rooms.

The Physician's Assistant returns and looking at the clipboard containing my medical history asks "How long ago did you say your mastectomy was?"  Immediately I can feel my whole body tense up. I explain it's been thirteen years and, shaking, ask her why.  She is very grave as she tells me that the x-ray shows a very large suspicious area on my femur, just at the knee.  The radiologist is very concerned and feels I should have a bone scan immediately.  This can't be happening, I think, not again.  I have all my check-ups, I feel fine, this can't be.  The room is spinning, I can hear and see other people, but it is as if I am in a dream.  I can't breathe and think this is a good thing because I long to pass out.  Anything, Lord, anything,  just don't let this be cancer.  I realize that I am hysterical, my husband is trying to comfort me and someone is trying to sedate me.

We are leaving the hospital, my husband is holding me up, I think I am in shock.  We arrive home and I cannot get a grip.  My thoughts are morbid and horrific.  I have an appointment at 9:00 a.m. the next morning for a bone scan.  I begin bargaining with God, begging him to spare me this trial.  In my heart, though, I know it is to be.