Life is a journey. It is up to us to make our own journey matter. Read the story by Monette Massard about her journey in life which could have cost her her life.

It’s the middle of the day and I am at work when my cell phone rings. I do not recognize the number on my caller ID.

“Hello? May I speak to Monette?” the voice on
the line asks.

“This is Monette speaking.”
“Hi. This is Doctor Murray. I’m calling with the pathologist’s report. The test results came back malignant. You do have breast cancer.”
I am completely silent. I can hear the doctor calling out, “Hello? Hello? Monette? Monette?”
But I cannot speak. In my heart I knew, even before the doctor called with my results, that I have breast cancer. Nonetheless, I want to believe otherwise. I walk away from my cubicle towards the lobby for more privacy. The hallway seems dark and I know that I am in trouble.

As I try to hold myself up I feel as though I am falling. The tears come so hard and so suddenly that I cannot see clearly. I instantly believe I am going to die. Anxiety takes control of me and I
can hear Doctor Murray repeating, “Hello? Hello?

Are you there? I need you to come into the office right now. Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?”

I am Sorry

I walk into the doctor’s office not knowing what is going on. Deeply, I am hoping that the pathologist has made a mistake—they have the wrong person. The administrative personnel know why I am crying. They all watch me as though recognizing the routine of how a patient reacts when they are diagnosed. “We are so sorry.” Their voices puncture my ears. “I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry.” I keep hearing the words and know that death is near. The doctor is so familiar with her trade that when I enter her office she already has a package of materials waiting for me to review. She sketches a breast on a sheet of white paper to demonstrate how she will remove the tumor.

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