The Wait

            Though they do not completely sedate you when taking a tissue biopsy out of your chest, the experience was not necessarily unpleasant. Though I was aware of the rather large needle being inserted into my body and the blood issuing forth with each extraction, the numbing agents did their job beautifully and I was spared the pain I knew I should be feeling. The unpleasant part came with the knowledge that we would not know the results for several days. As misfortune would have it, the procedure took place just before Labor Day weekend, meaning those responsible for analyzing the tissue and determining my official diagnosis would not be working for a couple of days, thus prolonging the already lengthy process of histological examination.

            So there I was, alone, save for the company of my mom, in a small Minnesotan city with my nearest friends or family several states away. In the short time I had spent in Rochester, I had magically transformed from a relatively normal 22-year-old college student into a cancer patient. Though the doctor had been mostly sure of what we were dealing with, I could not shake the fact that there existed a small possibility that what was living inside of my chest could be something more insidious. I tried my best not to dwell on the thought, but uncertainty gnawed at my mind like merciless termites.

            We spent the next several days doing our best to keep ourselves occupied. My mom and I became what felt like combatants in a WWII trench: both unprepared for the enemy we now faced, but continually fighting to keep each other’s morale up, knowing that for now we only had one another to rely on. Of course, phone calls and emails let those closest to us know what was happening, and I cherished the love, encouragement, and support that came spilling out of every reply we received. For all that though, I would have killed for a hug. I had to be incredibly grateful, however, because if a guy had to choose only one person to spend the most uncertain days of his life with, he couldn’t do better than having his momma’s love right there to help him along.

            Rochester didn’t offer much in the way of sightseeing or entertainment, but we found several good burger joints and a nice park nearby that teemed with veritable armies of friendly geese and ducks to spend some of our free time with. We even took one day to travel to Minneapolis and see the monstrosity known as the Mall of America. Normally I wouldn’t so readily consent to spending a day at a mall, but they had roller coasters, so how could I say no? The days crept forward in this fashion, each one a challenge to maintain sanity, each one a reminder that my nicely planned life was irreparably off-course.

            Eventually, I found myself sitting at a table in an open-air courtyard ordering Greek cuisine from one of the local cafes on the eve of the day of reckoning. We would know the results tomorrow; that much had been assured to us. As always, the termites were at work in my head, doing their best to weaken the supports that upheld what I had doggedly told myself again and again, “I’m going to be okay.” I did everything I could to dissolve any associations between this meal and the Last Supper. For the first time that I can remember, I felt the creeping animal fear that my existence on this planet might be jeopardy. Of course we must all face our mortality at some point, but did it have to be this point? I couldn’t shake the various scenarios playing themselves out in my imagination. The doctor entering the room, sitting down and beginning with a somber “Unfortunately…” or “I’m sorry…”

            I tried to retrain my focus on the baklava on my plate or the soft gurgling of the fountain just yards from where we sat, anything to bring me back to the present, physical world of which I was still very much a part, and to which I intended to remain a part so far as I could help it. I took solace in the fact that, if nothing else, tomorrow the wait would be over. The agonizing, seemingly endless wait would be over and thank God for that.