I never thought that, in my lifetime, I would ever say those words to anyone, but I just did.
I have tumours.
Yes, that’s plural.
I was at a health fair a couple of hours ago and there was a booth offering a special price for breast ultrasonography, so I decided to give it a go. Ten minutes later, the general practitioner found three lumps in my right breast, telling me that they “seem to be solid, but benign.”
But I took them as a threat.
She told me that I should not worry about it, because each of them is less than half a centimetre in size. I just need to eat more vegetables and fruits, and get myself screened again in three to six months.
Nevertheless, I left the building with shaking hands and cold feet after a shattering revelation. It felt like something pinched my bosom from the inside. It did not hurt as much, but it hurt still.
“You know, surprises are part of my favourite things, but I am not good at this. Not for this kind of surprise,” I mumbled.
You looked confused for one moment, but then you held my hand and gathered your words, saying, “I am sorry for being so clueless right now. I wish I know any better way to soothe you.”
“That’s okay,” I forced myself to smile. “Eating more greens is not that much of a challenge anyway.”
“Does your mum know?”
“I will tell her later when I am home. As much as I am tempted to talk it out on the phone so that I do not have to cry in front of her, I think this is face-to-face news.”
At this moment, I could not be more thankful for having you and your heart-warming embrace wrapped around me, although my stream of tears was the only way of saying it all.
“I know it is cliché, and you usually hate people for saying things just because it is something you want to hear, but everything is going to be okay.”
photo taken from here.