Now what?

The amount of information about colon cancer & its treatment is overwhelming. Want to know what types of chemo have what side effects? How about the difference between stage 3 & stage 4 or Dukes A, B, C? Or survival rates - that's a good one. But, what if the only information you have is "you have colon cancer and it will need to be surgically removed." There is no information that I have been able to find to describe the roller coaster of emotions that occur between diagnosis, confirmed diagnosis & surgery.

At this point we have absolutely no idea what we will be dealing with after July 12. All we have is the initial diagnosis. July 6 will be the confirmation from the oncologist.

The first 48 hours were spent in a state of shock as best as I can tell. Not a lot of tears, but plenty of fear of the unknown. I just wasn't able to "go there" and really think about what might or might not happen. Two nights of not sleeping & not really eating & just going through the motions of everyday life. Life needs to go on as normally as possible for the kids, which in some ways, makes the days easier.

Telling the kids wasn't as hard as we thought. We had the benefit of Zoey having had her tonsils out earlier in the year. Framing Mike's tumor (we weren't ready to tell the kids it was cancer) in that way made it easier for the kids to understand. Just like Zoey's tonsils weren't helping her and needed to come out, Daddy has a tumor in his colon that needs to come out because it shouldn't be there. They continue to ask questions and we continue to answer them. I made an appointment with a counselor Cal had seen in the past after Mike's roll over accident. Just in case. The appointment is for July 7 and the kids know if they want to talk to Laura they can. Or, maybe I will. Or, maybe we all will. That's the thing - we just don't know.