[Angela Ruth Strong] Pink Like Hope

I fought tears and asked questions. What did all this mean? Would my hair fall out in chemo? Would I need a mastectomy? Would I lose a lot of weight? (This last one, I’d be okay with.) No answers yet.

Jim was in the driveway when I pulled into the garage. Since our marriage, he’s been the one who’s maxed out our insurance deductible with various surgeries. “Carcinoma,” I said. “You’re the healthy one now.” We laughed and cried, and he kissed my head.

So far, telling people I have breast cancer has been the hardest part. But it’s also been amazing to feel their love in response.

I told my oldest daughter first. She’d known I would find out at 3:00, the same time she had a counseling appointment. She wanted to know the news, so I told her over the phone while she was in counseling. I’m so glad she was in a safe place for expressing emotions and was in the company of someone with comfort and wisdom to offer.

Afterwards, she came straight over and went with me to pick up Lauren. By that time, Caitlin and I had purchased pink ribbon earrings and were joking about the possibility of wearing wigs like Cher. But Lauren hadn’t mourned yet. Caitlin crawled into the backseat to hold her hand while I drove home.

My son was between college classes in another state when I told him. He said the most touching thing: “I’m going to pray as hard as I can, Mom.” He went and told his professor he wouldn’t be attending the evening class. What I didn’t know was that it was so he could hop on a plane.

My parents came over for a pizza and card games that night. We had a great time. I only wished Jordan could have been there. I kept saying, “Let’s FaceTime Jordan.” Because I don’t have an iPhone the way my kids all do, I had to get one of my daughters to do this. “Caitlin, text Jordan. See if he’s free.”

Of course, my girls knew he was at the airport and couldn’t FaceTime if he was going to surprise me. So they kept coming up with excuses. And I kept saying things like, “Maybe he’ll come home for Thanksgiving.” And, “He doesn’t even have to wait that long. Maybe he could come home this weekend.”

It was’t until I was on break the next day at work that he walked into the restaurant to join me for lunch. What a lunch it was. The kids laughed and joked about how they were handling the news at school.

Caitlin’s professor: Did you get your assignment done?

Caitlin (with finger guns and a wink): No, I did NOT.

As for my youngest who attends a medical high school, of course they were studying cancer the following day in class. Cue daughter running out of class and her teacher saying, “Uh…bye?” Ironic, tragic, and exactly the material we needed for a good healing laugh.

I have yet to be alone with this heavy news. My best friend and I went to coffee where she offered to shave her head with me if I have to. (Of course we’d cut it into a mohawk first.) My husband’s former brother-in-law and his wife brought me flowers, and Joe told me about his breast cancer experience. (Yes, guys can get it too.) A Hell’s Angel biker (of all people) offered to organize a ride to raise money for my hospital bills. And my writer’s group prayed over me and gave me these awesome mugs.

My youngest (who has always hated the color pink) told me she would buy a pink car to support my fight against breast cancer. She thinks we should use pink Christmas lights. And she designed pink checkered Vans for our family all to order. You might also soon see pictures of us with pink hair extensions. We are embracing the hue like hope.

​​As of right now, I have an appointment with a surgeon, pre-admissions testing, and an MRI scheduled. I’ll also soon be meeting with an oncologist and geneticist to hear all my options. The only thing Jim’s brother-in-law had to do was get the lump removed and go through six weeks of daily radiation, which just made him sleepy. I’m hoping that’s all I’ll need.

No, I don’t know the stage of my cancer, and I won’t until further testing, but I do think I caught it early. I feel great, physically and emotionally.

“How are your spirits so high?” my brother asked. I guess people expect me to be depressed. But I’m not. Though I might use this as an excuse to get out of awkward conversations…

Telemarketer: Can I interest you in–?

Me: I just found out I have breast cancer, and I was hoping you were the doctor’s office calling to schedule my surgery.

Passenger on my airline: I can’t believe you’re making me pay for my luggage!

Me: I have breast cancer. Wanna keep complaining to ME about how your life’s not fair?

There are obviously more painful things people could go through, and you might be one of those people. In which case, I want to be there for you too. Message me. We can joke about the insanity of this thing called survival.

I’m sure the future holds lots more sad and challenging moments, but right now I’m grateful for the crowd and all the kisses on my head.

Thank you so much for your love and support. It means the world. I’ll be sure to keep you posted.