4. I Have Something To Tell You
As it was now after midday, we were hungry, so decided to have some lunch while we worked out what to do next. Our daughter overseas sent a text – asking if we were home yet. We said we’d call in ten minutes and headed home. Once home we dialled up Skype and I was so pleased to see her husband home, in the background. With a false bravado I said suggested he come and say a quick hello too. I think we made one minute’s small talk and I knew I had to tell her. It’s not easy to tell your eldest that you have breast cancer. It is especially hard when she is over 14,000 kilometres away and has only been living there for six months. I tried to be bright and matter of fact, and stress the ‘early’ part of the cancer and then to be positive about the outcomes. I saw her shoulders sag and her face crumple and her husband reached out and put his arm around her and stroked her hair. Again I felt almost guilty. We talked for a while and went over what the surgeon had said and told them we were seeing our GP that night for a referral and would keep her informed.
Over lunch we planned the rest of the day. I would go around and tell my parents. They knew nothing of the previous couple of weeks. I took my laptop and showed them some photos of the family – they always loved these visits and updates of everyone’s goings on. Then I told them I had something to tell them and tried very gently and clearly to tell them. They seemed to grasp it all, though I don’t know that Dad realised how serious it was. Everyone processes such news in his or her own way. It is a very very hard thing to tell people you have cancer. It has such a bad name and is a word many people dread. I must have sounded very clinical as I calmly explained, step by step the plan, which was to go to our GP, but she was on holidays, so we would see another doctor and get a referral to a hospital. Mum told me later that she appreciated the sensitive way I told them. I’m glad, as I don’t recall too much of it myself.
I sent texts to a couple of close friends. In some ways, it was much easier to send a text than have to verbalise ‘I have cancer. ’ It made my lip tremble and my voice waver. Maybe it also helped me come to terms with it though.
We arranged to drop in on our other daughter that evening, saying we were out her way. I’m sure that struck her as odd for a weeknight. I also casually asked if her fiancé would be home that night. Luckily he was. We chatted a bit after we arrived and then I told her, but my voice betrayed me somewhat. She was naturally upset and I think I should take the blame for her having a very restless night. She woke early and I’m glad she was able to Skype with her sister and talk about it and vent some of her anger to her.
Our son was working in Newcastle and he rang that evening. I hadn’t got around to letting him know. When I told him his response was, ‘Oh no, oh Mum, oh no’. I regret that I wasn’t more sensitive. But how do you soften such news? We chatted a bit and I suggested he go for a run. Apparently he did. He ran 13kms, and rather fast. I’m sure it was good he did.
My husband’s Mum was in Hong Kong and we had to email her. Luckily she was with family so they had each other for support. It must have been pretty hard for them, especially as my sister in law – who she was staying with – had lost her mother to cancer only five months before.
We saw a GP that evening and she asked if we had private health insurance. We didn’t, but still had a choice of hospitals. Being in the public system would turn out to be a benefit later on. We decided to go with the closest hospital of the three suggested, as it would make sense if I required ongoing treatment, especially if it meant six weeks of radiotherapy. She organised a referral and said that the hospital would be in touch with us in the next couple of days. Things were moving very fast and we were very grateful and it was one more thing ticked off the list.