On March 3, 2006, I underwent a lumpectomy to remove what my then-surgeon thought for sure was breast cancer. About that, he was right.
What he wasn’t right about was his dire prediction of my staging — or my future.
During that surgery, he sent a piece of the tumor to pathology. Based on those preliminary results — which were back by the time I was coming out of anesthesia, he told me my cancer was already likely a Stage 3 and a very aggressive cell type.
Later that day, he gave me this chilling prediction: “You won’t live to see Theo’s first day of Kindergarten.”
He was wrong.
Not only did I see Theo off to his first day of Kindergarten last fall, but I had the privilege of watching him sing his heart out at his school’s Spring Concert last night — and receive his diploma, handsomely clad in cap and gown.
I plan to be there at his next graduation ceremony, years from now, right next to the stage, snapping photos and cheering Theo on. Just like I was last night.
Copyright 2011, Amy Rauch Neilson