Thank God for my husband. He sat with me, listened to the results, and proceeded to make inappropriate jokes with me. I'm pretty sure the counselor didn't know what to make of the two of us. We may have actually scarred her.
But we've been through the hard part of breast cancer twice. It's how we cope.
"Imrecognize that there are two people in this room. How are you feeling?" she asked Pat.
"Probably regretting he married his mother," I retorted.
And he laughed.
Ever since my mother-in-law was diagnosed with breast cancer after we had been dating a year, Pat was of the opinion I shouldn't bother keeping my breasts or ovaries after having kids.
"You don't need them," he would say. "Just cut 'em off and get new ones."
Perhaps we got our interesting humor from her.
"We'll, the breast cancer did take my mind off my broken foot."
"Look at me! I'm 50 and don't need to wear a bra!"
Losing her 8 years later, the day after our first daughter was born, only solidified the opinion he already held. She was an amazing woman and fought for a long time.
"We are all going to die of cancer eventually," he said to me in the office after the counselor left. "You have the chance to prevent it. To not be taken by surprise at 45 or 50."
Or 25 like my best friend.