DANCING WITH MY GUARDIAN ANGEL
By Katy Meek
April 9, 2007: I awoke
startled in a hospital room....how could I not remember how I got here? As I
become more coherent my mind wanders back to my last memory of being wheeled
away from my life into an operating room that would change me forever.
A friend had arranged
for all of us waiting for my surgery to wear red lipstick. This idea came from
a movie, "Why I Wore Red Lipstick to My Mastectomy". This made me
have a sense of control. I found the
lipstick comforting as I was briskly wheeled down a sterile hallway. I am
freezing cold and frightened, this is so surreal. I drift off.
Struggling to stay
awake, as the morphine ebbs its way through my veins, I thought of the
bilateral mastectomy that I had survived. Breast Cancer diagnosis: Check
Surgery: Check
I feel myself starting
to panic; did they get all the cancer? Am I going to live? The morphine quickly
takes me to a place where there is not cancer, there is no pain or fear. There
is only peace, I sleep, I dream....
February 22, 2002:
I went to a club with a friend, I could be so shy but we sat at the bar
as no other seating was available. I sat next to a nice looking man, older than
myself, but very handsome and single! He kept talking to my friend and I. His
wife has passed away a few years ago of cancer. He had awesome blue eyes that
twinkled and he made me laugh. This man asked me out and we have been dating
since our first date a few weeks later. He became my "special man
friend". We danced to a Beatle’s song; little did I know this was my first
dance with my guardian angel.
February 22, 2007: We
have had a wonderful, exciting five years together dating.....then I felt that
dreaded lump in my breast. It became my secret as I feared the lump was cancer.
I could feel it in my soul that it would not be good news; so I decided to
ignore it and just maybe it would go away. A few weeks later I finally found
the courage to make a doctor appointment.
March 12, 2007: At North
Hills Hospital I hear the words coming from a stranger's lips, "Ms. Meek I
am sorry to inform you that you have breast cancer". I want to fall to the
ground, I feel so alone....."You need to see a surgeon immediately".
I hear, "I am so sorry; would you like me to call someone for you?" I
am about to be sick, I need to leave this small room that smelled of film
developer. Somehow, I thanked the radiologist and stumbled to the hallway. I
wait to get to my car to cry, the salty teardrops stinging my face. I am
sobbing and shaking. I am in shock. I am a single mom. How am I going to do
this?
I call my special man friend.
Barely able to breath, I struggle to get the words out. "Vic, I have
breast cancer". I am crying so hard...... and praying, "Dear God,
please help me have the courage and strength to get through this one. He is at
a loss of what to say. I felt like I was dropping a bomb.
I worry that Vic will
not be able to go on this journey with me as his memory of his wife's cancer is
etched in his mind. Her pain, her suffering can still make him shudder with
each beat of his heart. I am frightened and I need his strong hands to
lift me over the hurdles I am about to face but I was not sure a person can go
on a second journey. I wanted to be selfish...but would certainly let him go
without guilt or remorse.
When Vic said, "We
can get through this together" I felt such a sense of relief and comfort
that this man would take this cancer journey with me. I thanked God and prayed
for strength and courage...I never asked why I would get cancer; I just
prayed for strength, courage and the capability to just put one foot in
front of the other. During a prayer I felt God's presence and knew I was ready
to face my fears. I felt such a warmth come across my shoulders, a peace come
over me and weight was lifted off my shoulders. I stopped crying myself to
sleep every night.
One of the most
difficult things I had to do next was tell my daughter and son that I had
cancer. I would be having major surgery to remove the cancer by having both
breasts removed. It affects a daughter's future and a young son does not want
to hear about his mom's breasts but he has to. We hugged, we cried. My daughter
is afraid for my future; I am afraid for hers.
To be continued