Thank God you're there

Blogosphere, I'm reeling. I promised I would not tell anyone this -- not even my best friend -- and I'm going to honor that. But I use words. It's what I do, it's how I process information. And so I'm telling you so I can work it through.

Kathleen has cancer.

She just told me. I literally just hung up the phone.

It's breast cancer. She found out Wednesday afternoon. She told her husband immediately. She told her kids yesterday. She told me today. She's telling her mom later this evening. I am honored that she told me before her mother or her siblings (she has a big family).

I don't know how she is waiting a week for the next step -- a Wednesday meeting with an oncologist. About a year ago I had a "suspicious mammogram" and I practically jumped out of my skin as I waited for the (blessedly) benign results.

Here's what we know now: the lump is small and in the center of her breast, not too close to the nipple or the armpit, which is good news. Her gynecologist suggests that she will "probably" have a lumpectomy, followed by meds but not chemo. Of course, that's only her gyne's best guess.

She's been dizzy lately, overworked and overemotional weeks even before she got the results. I wonder if her body hasn't been subtly, or not so subtly, sending her signals that she should go to the doctor.

I need to call the doctor about my annual mammogram, too.

Kathleen knows I'm here for her. I reminded her that I will be there for her to give her anything she needs, even if it's a friend to take a day off and sit with her at home.

There isn't much else I can do. Except, of course, pray and worry.

I don't want this to be true. But it is, and I have to accept it.