The Diagnosis

I'm not good with dates. I never forget Christina's birthday or our anniversary or Christmas...or the home opener for the Giants. But I have to be honest, I don't know the exact date that her doctors at CPMC told her that she had breast cancer. I swear it was Friday, Feb. 20th but I could be wrong. We both suspected it before Valentines Day. She had been to several tests. The first appointment was a real eye opener for me. I took some time off work to be with her at the appointment. She took UBER from work and I met her at the breast care center of CPMC out in the Laurel Heights neighborhood of SF. I couldn't believe the number of women that were coming in for testing there. I also couldn't believe that I was the only husband that was there to be with their wife. It seemed like there were 4 or 5 new women every 30 minutes. This is just one place to get tested. I started to try and do the math in my head. How many women get diagnosed every day with breast cancer? I'm sure I could look it up on Google but I really don't want to know. One is too many...

I started noticing that some of the women who had shown up after Christina were already gone. They kept taking her to a new room for a new test. I knew. Each time she would pass me in the waiting room, she would show off her beautiful smile. She knew too I think. Then I saw a women who had obviously been given the news. Tears were evident and she quickly moved to the elevator. I wondered if she was single or is she was married or had a partner. I wouldn't want anyone to get the news and go home to an empty house or apartment. I know it happens. My mother got the news alone. I think back with shame that I wasn't there to comfort her. She is tough as nails. She lost her husband and my dad a couple years before. Ironically, her older sister had been diagnosed with breast cancer the same week! I should have been there. But I wasn't..I suck as a son.

I was in the waiting room so long that one of the admitting nurses offered me coffee and snacks from the break room. I declined but it was nice to know that she cared enough to ask. The official diagnosis wouldn't come for another week or so. But when we left that day, we knew that the journey-our journey-had begun..