May
Illness
May 17
Gardening day had arrived. The day my sister and her husband, Gordon came to help me prep my garden. Allie brought Grandma’s old tiller. It’s a wonder it still worked, but it did.
Charlie and Gordon unloaded the tiller and started strategizing the best way to till the soil. Leave it to men to turn a garden into a military campaign.
I could hear my phone, playing a lively tune in the house and ran to catch it.
I recognized the voice on the other end. It was Margo. My childhood friend turned doctor.
“Jo, I need to see you right away,” her voice cracked.
“I can’t get away from the office for at least a week,” I told her.
I couldn’t just drop everything.
“It has to be Monday,” her voice rose in desperation.
“I can’t,” mine rose in irritation.
There was a loud crash outside.
“Just tell me.”
“Stop, stop,” everyone was yelling in unison.
“Margo Lynn Johnson, tell me now or I’m hanging up and you won’t see me for a month,” I demanded.
The smell of smoke hit me. Grandma’s tiller lay on the ground in two pieces.
We’re not going to be able to fix that, I thought.
“It’s cancer,” she broke with a sob. “I didn’t want to tell you. I wanted you to come in on Monday. We’d sit in my office and I’d find a way to tell you that wouldn’t hurt you. But there isn’t really any way.”
Stunned, I watched Gordon and Charlie struggling with the tiller. Allie stood nearby shouting orders.
Had she actually said cancer? No, this has to be a dream. I don’t have cancer. Cancer doesn’t run in my family.
It’s understandable ‘she’ is detached. After all, cancer doesn’t run in her family.
A painful subject. I like how you’re writing this.
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Thank you. I appreciate your sticking with me. Dee
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Thank you. I think the shock numbs you to everything else. And then it hits you later. Dee
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It reads authentic shock to me. More please. 🙂
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Ah yes, the “C” demon. Living with a “C” survivor makes this all the more relevant. Well written.
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Hi Sha’Tara,
Thanks for the comment.
Dee
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Sorry, I’m following your story avidly – and yes I thought the first part was real. But what is a tiller that would fall in half, some sort of garden plough? (You’d write plow)
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Thank you for your comment. A tiller is a small plow but it’s small and pushed by a person. I imagine the metal housing was cracked and when the enginer blew the crack broke a piece off. Thanks. Dee
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Dee, wonderful. I could feel the doctor’s angst and now after she gets off the phone she will have deep regrets for handling the news so badly. Jo’s reaction was so true to life.
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Hi John,
I bullied someone at my doctor’s office into reading my results over the phone. Big C was the same answer. Dee
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I was in the office and the doctor said “I have some bad news.” “Okay what is it,” I said. “You have Cancer.” “Is it terminal?” “Not necessarily.” “Well then its not bad news is it?” He just looked at me and finally smiled.
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Love you, John. Dee
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Thanks Dee. I love you as well.
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😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩
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Love your creativity. Dee
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Speechless
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Thank you. Dee
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I can’t say that I’ve personally gone through anything like this. I did lose my gran, great uncle, great auntie and another great uncle in a space of a few months. One of which died of cancer. I really think that made me realise how important it is these illnesses are taken seriously. Great writing. I like the way that you put across the point that it can happen to anyone. Scary but a great read. Courtney
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Yeah, Cander is a hard illness to have. The cure’s almost worst than the disease. Thanks.
Dee
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I was really disappointed when she turned out to have cancer. I almost forgot to breath.
Judy
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Hi Judy. Wow, France. I’m envious. Sorry, but it had to happen or we wouldn’t have a story. Thanks for stopping by. Dee
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