From yesterday I’ve heard a dozen stories about whose auntie, or cousin, or sister once had breast cancer and now they all survive and already came back into their normal life. It’s comforting, much better than you google question like “How long I could live with breast cancer?”. It’s comforting but it’s just not enough.

Somehow fear still materializes and breaks into my life. Like, my back hurts like hell. Before the news, I thought it was just from my stiff back, but now I have to face with another possibility: it has transferred.

So many things have still remained unknown, and the unknown is the scariest of all. Without further tests, I don’t know which stage I am in, what kind of it is, or how much chances I have.

My husband cried. He is so sensitive to healthy issue. The shock has been very bad for him. Luckily, my son is now living with my parents. So we could still keep it from him. Today I told him over the phone that I would send him to his math class this Saturday, but I don’t know if I could manage it, and where I will be this Saturday, the hospital or home?

I would miss his graduation day. It would be the first time that I wouldn’t be there for him and I feel so terrible about that. I just wish I could be there at his first day in Middle School.

There is surgery, chemotherapy, and a long time in hospital waiting ahead. On the surface, I’m doing OK. I’m the master of “I’m fine”, inside, I am scared. It’s like carrying a bomb inside your body, and you don’t know when it will go off, what damage it will bring and what kind of shape you will be after the explosion.

God bless us.