Mirror, Mirror

It has been 9 days since our world was turned upside down. Again. I'm no expert but I wonder how many times is one's life supposed to be upended by tragic news and be expected to survive each announcement. In the last 9 days, my worst nightmare came true. My biggest fear became exposed to the world, and is now up for public discussion. What we once hoped would be a chapter in my story, has now taken center stage.

The cancer is back. I don't think it ever left. Now it's just big and bad and ugly enough (again) to light up a PET-CT like a Christmas tree. The words, "multi-organ system malignancy" will forever be burned into my mind.

When my doctor called to tell me my bloodwork was a little off, I will admit I went into an immediate tailspin of worst case scenarios. I actively course-corrected my mind every day for 10 days awaiting results of the re-draw, and the scan. The morning of my scan, I watched the boys surf in the hazy marine layer. I sat in the cold sand and breathed in the ocean air. "I feel good", I thought. "This can't be cancer- I wouldn't feel this good if it was cancer."

Then worst case scenario became reality. 9 days ago. In the last 9 days, I have been a pin-ball bouncing between amazing moments with my kids, coaching on the court, feeling good and active, and then the sinking, sudden realization that this is it. From this point forward, I may not feel this good - ever again. I will be on treatment for the remainder of my life. I have Stage IV- Metastatic Breast Cancer. Well, fuck you cancer. FUCK. YOU.

Every time I look in the mirror, in those quiet moments, I find myself confused. How can I feel good, look healthy yet this ugly disease is growing every moment in my bones, in my organs like a parasite. How is this possible? How is this my life, my reality? So for good measure, fuck you mirror. For tricking me into thinking I was healing, and getting healthy. Fuck you, too.