“Sorry, honey- I wish the news was better.” Even though I read the written report, pored over the PET and CT scans, had seen the tell-tale reddish-yellow hot spots and obvious black dots, I still did not want to hear those words. It took my breath away. I so wanted to believe that I had misread the words- had not understood what I saw. I should have known the results weren’t good. It was raining. It rained the day George was first diagnosed, on the day of every surgery he had and on the day my father died. Bad news, rain and the two of us....not a good combination. George's cancer has returned. The round-robin of surgeons, oncologists and tests of every conceivable type has begun. We wait again.
This time the wait is different. This time we have some knowledge of this disease. We’ve been here before and some of the fears have already been faced. But there are new fears to be conquered and new questions to ask. The wait is different…but, still…it is “The Wait.”