Hearing the Unthinkable

I remember the day vividly when my dad broke the news to me about the test results. Up until then, I had no clue they were checking for cancer. I woke up late that morning, around 9-9:30, feeling some back pain, so I stayed in bed for a bit. I mentioned it to my mom, who gave me some painkillers before I went back to sleep. When I woke up again, I freshened up and started watching a movie.

 Meanwhile, my parents were deep in conversation in their bedroom, so I left them to it. After a while, my dad came out and asked me to join him. I figured the biopsy results were back and maybe there was a small procedure ahead. Thanks to my habit of researching things online, I had a decent understanding of what might be coming, so I remained composed. We stepped out onto the balcony, and that's when my dad gently told me I had cancer. It hit me hard, and I hugged him tightly for about five minutes.

 Despite having seen many movies where cancer seemed insurmountable, I also remembered a documentary I once watched out of curiosity on YouTube about chemotherapy and cancer treatments. It had given me a basic understanding of what the journey might involve. Still, hearing the diagnosis firsthand was devastating, even with that knowledge.

 After those initial moments of shock and fear, I managed to collect myself and began thinking about the road ahead. We visited the doctor who had suggested the biopsy, and he referred us to a seasoned oncologist with a dedicated team. During my first appointment with the oncologist, he confidently assured us that he would treat and cure me, but it would require a series of battles, each victory bringing me closer to recovery.

 From that day onward, I embarked on what felt like a series of small wars, each one a step forward in my journey toward healing.