There's a FROG in my throat

Today was tough - tougher than I though. Was that enough Ts for you? My good morning chat with the family was over a breakfast that I couldn't eat because of my "do not eat or drink" order for my CT scan at 11:30am today. The conversation consisted of everything from freezing eggs to my oncology appointment tomorrow. What a wake up call.

My scan went well. Period. After some more needle sticks, they pushed some contrast into my veins to take the scan - OUCH - the needle drove into my arm and I winced with tears dripping down my face. Afterwards, they wrapped my arm in a cool purple band; at least it matched my shirt. Fashion still matters - it makes you feel a little bit better :) Dr. Dashing, his dad, and my dad were in the waiting room. I think Dashing was holding his breath the whole time as this scan would be the beginning of identifying how bad the cancer is right now. I was lucky enough to then have Dashing's dad work a little physician magic and immediately scoot in with the radiologist to get a quick pre-write up look. Dashing got to go too. They came back blank slates. Dashing explained that it looks like it is contained to my chest cavity (which is great!), but this isn't for sure. My one large mass, however, is much bigger than he had expected, he said. I guess it's about the size of an adult man's fist. WHAT? That's in my neck/chest area? How does that even fit in there! Apparently, this kind of cancer just pushes other things aside to make room - what squatters!

The rest of the day has been hard. More conversations that are heavy, serious, and things I didn't think I'd be talking about this week at all. I feel like I constantly have a frog in my throat, always wondering what is going to come up next. I sometimes even freak myself out thinking it's the tumor growing up through my neck pressing on my esophagus. [Bad Sara Cate, get those thoughts out!] It's hard to think about, talk about, and I am shedding tears at the mention of the C word - that's cancer. I'm an emotional wreck holding it together. What's just as bad is as I'm on the phone sharing this news with distant friends, my ATT service drops my calls. Over and over and over again. I'm like "so, they've told me I have lym......." CALL DROPPED. What! We're both crying. I'm telling someone I love I have cancer and you're going to drop my call. I am really thinking about flushing my pretty iPhone down the toilet.

I'm off to break the news to some of my in-town girlfriends. Wish me luck as this is not an easy thing to bring up with anyone. I'm sure this will involve many tears and hugs. I'm determined to beat this though - watch out cancer. I'm here to stay.

My distant and close friends and family that know have been so supportive sending thoughtful texts, flowers, voicemails, emails, comments.....THANK YOU. These seem like little things, but I promise you that they make my day brighter (tears are running down my cheek as I write this part). I thank God every day that you are all in my life.

Ribbit, ribbit....dang it! That frog is still here. (crying more)