I was waiting for a text message with an "all clear." I was not paying attention to social media, my news feeds or anything else. I was in my own bubble. Waiting. I did not get the all clear I was hoping to hear. I got bad news. Followed by the uncertainty of, "I need further testing" from still another person. I will share all when it's appropriate.
Yes, I've added to my list of those for whom I am a Fearless Friend. I am still waiting, now, not for one biopsy date, but instead for two. Both of those will be done at MSKCC. I will be at the hospital for each. Nothing is scheduled yet.
I am shedding tears for one and I still live with fears for two others but after watching such sadness, I am at a loss. The magnitude of such a horrific event has overshadowed everything. Then, I saw this article written by Dr. Matthew Katz. He is a radiation oncologist and he is a frequent participant in the Monday night #BCSM tweet chat. He wrote a thought provoking piece:
I have no answers to the questions Matt poses. I can only see the angelic faces of babies. I hear names followed by the words, "six years old" and I am horrified and heart sick. I see three young teachers who gave their lives hoping to save the children. And a young principal, the school psychologist and still another teacher whose lives were taken. And, a mom. A young man in New Jersey who reached out on Facebook after he was, for hours, accused of being the killer. "My mom is dead."
I received an email from someone on Friday. "One of the teachers is my mentor's daughter." On twitter, an aunt of one of the little boys was surrounded by a community of love as she waited in Seattle to hear from her sister in law. Three children attended that school. The little girls were safely with their mom. At 4:30, "Still no news." At 5:30, "He is gone."
I'm certain every one of those adults, despite their own fear...their own absolute terror..... acted fearlessly. And selflessly. And they paid the ultimate price. To be fearless, one must know fear, feel fear, taste fear. And still, act in ways that defy that fear.
My heart is broken for those whose hearts will be forever broken. And my heart is broken for my friend who was told she is now metastatic. And I move with great trepidation as I wait for these other tests to be completed on two other people.
I'm petrified. I'm saddened. But nonetheless, I remain, Fearless.