“There are moments that mark your life. Moments when you realize nothing will ever be the same, and time is divided into two parts. Before this and after this.” -Unknown

6/6/16. Clint had his wisdom teeth taken out three days previous, but there was just something wrong. Restless nights, swelling was not going down at all, and the pain was excruciating. Watching him sit in bed, groaning and holding his mouth wondering what was wrong, was the worst thing. When he could manage the pain and fall asleep for a few minutes, I would sit in the pitch black, looking up every symptom that he was having, and crying at the thoughts that were being brought into my mind by the terrible “internet diagnoses”.

The morning of June 6, 2016 the oral surgeon whom had performed the wisdom tooth extraction called in an order to go have some blood drawn. By this time, he had been going back and forth from the oral surgeon’s office, and his home. They had decided that there was an infection in his mouth, so they sliced his cheek to see if the infection would drain out, but nothing came out. The pain was worsening, and so were our thoughts. We went into the hospital for the blood work, and C could not stop groaning, and crying. He felt nauseous, and was in an unbearably uncomfortable state. We went back home and waited for the phone call holding the results.

At about 4:00 pm that day, we got the phone call. The doctor told us that he wanted us to talk in person, so we agreed upon meeting at the office at 5:00. We walked into the office, and the doctor looked at us with such a sad look. He took us to the back room, and sat us down to talk. The room was dimly lit, and Clint sat in the procedure chair in the center of the room. His mom and I were sitting in the chairs placed on either side of him. The doctor told us that the blood in Clint’s body did NOT look good, and something was terribly wrong. I was thinking maybe the infection had spread, or he would need to have another surgery, but nothing could have prepared me for the words that came out of that doctor’s mouth. He said that his white blood cell count was extremely low, along with his platelets and hemoglobin. He informed us that they had taken a deeper look at the cells, and everything they saw was pointing to Leukemia, and that we needed to get up to the closest children’s hospital immediately. I was in shock. Out of all the “internet diagnoses” I had read of, and prepared myself for, I never once saw anything that said it could be cancerous.

I could not wrap my head around it. I didn’t even shed a tear in that room. It was when I was walking out, seeing the man I loved the most in a wheelchair barely able to speak, and surely unable to walk. I followed the doctor and C out of the room, and that was when it hit me. I was walking behind cancer. Cancer. CANCER. I walked out, and helped C get into the car. I turned around and collapsed. In the middle of the parking lot. I called my mom and told her the news through my sobbing. This is all a dream right? This isn’t real. Cancer doesn’t really happen to healthy, active people. It is a misdiagnosis. This doctor has no idea what he is talking about. -But, he does.


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