Sonya Ruben - Cancer is an Chance

The friendly woman asked if I nee­ded any help putting on my clothes. I nodded and she helped me into my oversized sweater. Thankfully, I had remembered to wear something com­fortable. Then she asked me to come to the front desk. I nodded again. Very slowly and slightly dizzy, I walked over to her. Talking was hard for me. We scheduled an appointment. While le­aving the doctor’s office, I took deep breaths and felt relieved. My car was parked in the courtyard. I carefully sat down in the driver’s seat. The steering wheel in front of me, I wanted to start driving but somehow I couldn’t move. I felt stiffness. I took another deep breath and got myself out of my cha­otic thoughts. What is wrong with me? Whatever, I tried to see the next step in front of me.

I directly drove to pick up my son. Back at home, I just wanted to lie down and relax, but I still had a household to run. I put the little one to bed and began cooking dinner.

In the evening, after taking care of everything at home, I was very happy to finally see the end of this day. Even lying in bed, I still had this feeling of relief. I don’t know where it came from, I just thought: Finally, it’s over. After over a year of having had this bump, it was finally gone. The next morning, I woke up from a pinching feeling in my arm. Of course, it was the scar that woke me up. The anesthesia had worn off and the pain began.

Thankfully, I can sleep on my sto­mach, which helped to reduce the pressure on my arm while sleeping. I turned to my side, checked the time on my phone and was happy that I would be able to sleep for another hour. Suddenly the alarm woke me up. Wow, that went by fast. I prepared my daughter for school. The little one was sleeping peacefully, which allowed me to go back to bed. With a smirk on my face, I went back to sleep. There is nothing more beautiful for a mother than sleeping in, I thought to myself as I fell asleep.

Today is the day I get my stitches remo­ved. I was eager to see how big the scar was going to be and if it healed well. It was a little bit annoying to make sure my arm stays dry during showering. But it was working out quite well. I brought the little one to his grandmo­ther. Perfect, everything’s set and I’m on my way to the doctor’s office.

Very carefully, the assistant pulled out the stiches and cut them off. It felt slightly uncomfortable as I could feel everything which I didn’t think I would. Everything was dark red and crusty. The assistant gently covered the wound with a plaster. “It’s looking good so far, it healed well”, she said. Thank God, I thought and stood up.

The arm still felt weak because I tried to rest it for an entire week. I thanked the assistant, took my handbag and left happily. The days went by and I was glad that everything was over. Of cour­se, I now have another scar, but I’m just going to buy a brightening lotion that improves the healing process. I almost didn’t notice the wound. Only when I held my little one on my arm, I so­metimes felt a little tugging. That wee­kend, we spend a wonderful day with the whole family. I love days like this. Even though they can be quite exhaus­ting, I really like them. More than two weeks have passed since I’ve gotten my stitches removed. On Wednesday mor­ning, I got a call from the assistant of the surgery. I was asked to come to the doctor’s office on Friday. The doctor wanted to speak to me. When I asked why, she answered: “The doctor is going to tell you all about it at 9:30 or 11:30?” I chose the appointment at 11:30. The days until Friday I often asked myself, what does he want to tell me?

Friday came fast and because I didn’t think much of it, I took the little one with me to the office. I knew that it was just going to be a consultation. I was on time and at about 11:50 it was my turn. Nobody was in the examination room yet. The little one kept moving around, he already sometimes takes off without me. I tried to control him, but he kept wanting to explore everything. I heard a knock on the door and the surgeon entered the room. The little one ran up to me and hid behind my legs. I sat turned to the side with one leg on the couch. The doctor washed his hands with soap. Then he disin­fected and dried them off. Meanwhile he said to me: “Well, you are a grown woman and mother of two children, you have a big responsibility.” Okay, I know that, what about it? He had a serious look on his face. He slowly wal­ked towards me. My stomach dropped, I had to swallow and thought, what is happening now?

The little one started to move around again. I tried to hold him, tried to pick him up on my left arm and said “hold still”. The surgeon continued: “We sent the lump to two laboratories.” Why two, I asked myself. He explained: “If the first result is positive, we send it to another lab for reassurance.” Can he hear my thoughts? “The second lab test showed the same result.” Okay and now? I don’t really understand. Very slowly he opened up: “I have to tell you something, this is a very serious issue.” His face turned even more serious than before. What? I couldn’t breathe. Oh God, what is he going to say, an inflam­mation or something like that? I held the little one even tighter.

The doctor continued. “You are a grown woman, listen well.” Dear God, why is he looking at me like that and obser­ving my every move. “This tumor I re­moved was malignant. Therefore, you have to go to all the tests and exami­nations I’m planning for you. Do you have anything important planned from Monday to Wednesday?”

Completely in shock, I answered: “I don’t have any plans, but the child­ren.” What is going to come next? I felt ice cold, I think I turned pale. I was breathing so slowly; I couldn’t even think straight. I didn’t know what

malignant means? Because he looked so serious, I was scared to even ask a question. Do I have to undergo ano­ther surgery, I asked myself. He called me back to reality: “I think I will be able to help you.” But why three days? This should go faster. The doctor pi­cked up the phone and asked: “The kids are going to be taken care of? I have to know that for sure!” I took my phone out of my bag, “I have to make a quick call”. Since I have a big family, there was always going to be someo­ne there for me, and I’m so thankful for that. “Yes, everything is going to be alright”, I answered. The doctor dialed a number and gave my data to somebody. I heard: “Yes, I’m going to fax you everything, one moment plea­se.” He handed me the phone. “Yes?”

I was quiet and held the little one on my left hand, so he couldn’t take off. A nice lady asked with a loud voice: “Could you come to the clinic at 8am on Monday?” I heard some noise in the background, which seemed to be the echo of a big room. “Yes, I’ll be there.” Nodding, I handed the doctor the phone back. He transferred some additional data and quickly ended the call. He took my hand, said goodbye and explained: “As soon as I have all the results, we are going to talk again. We will get in touch with you.” I pi­cked the little one up on my left arm.

The assistant asked me to follow her to the front desk. I received a big pile of papers and reports. With the little one on my left hand and the forms in the right hand, I walked out of the doctor’s office and to my car as fast as I could. I could feel that there was something off about this situation. But I couldn’t put my finger on it. First, I called my hus­band. I reached him at his work place and told him about my malignant tu­mor. Are they absolutely sure, he asked in shock. His horrified reaction ope­ned my eyes to the seriousness of the matter. My husband rarely is startled by anything. He promised to be home as soon as possible and ended the call. His reaction shook me up. What is go­ing on, what is wrong with me? Fear crept up on me. My hands were sha­king. As soon as I got home, I started to research this tumor online. The pa­pers I got from the surgeon said “ma­lignant fibrous histiocytoma”. Thank­fully, the little one was next to me, playing peacefully with his toys while I was typing.