From yesterday I’ve heard a dozen stories
about whose auntie, or cousin, or sister once had breast cancer and now they
all survive and already came back into their normal life. It’s comforting, much
better than you google question like “How long I could live with breast cancer?”.
It’s comforting but it’s just not enough.

Somehow fear still materializes and breaks into
my life. Like, my back hurts like hell. Before the news, I thought it was
just from my stiff back, but now I have to face with another possibility: it
has transferred.

So many
things have still remained unknown, and the unknown is the scariest of all.
Without further tests, I don’t know which stage I am in, what kind of it is, or
how much chances I have.

My husband
cried. He is so sensitive to healthy issue. The shock has been very bad for
him. Luckily, my son is now living with my parents. So we could still keep it
from him. Today I told him over the phone that I would send him to his math class
this Saturday, but I don’t know if I could manage it, and where I will be this
Saturday, the hospital or home?

I would
miss his graduation day. It would be the first time that I wouldn’t be there
for him and I feel so terrible about that. I just wish I could be there at his
first day in Middle School.

There is
surgery, chemotherapy, and a long time in hospital
waiting ahead. On the surface, I’m doing OK. I’m the master of “I’m fine”,
inside, I am scared. It’s like carrying a bomb inside your body, and you don’t
know when it will go off, what damage it will bring and what kind of shape you
will be after the explosion.

God bless
us.