News

The Diagnosis Hit Hard… But the Reality of Cancer Hit Even Harder

“My Colon Cancer Journey: Part 2 — The Reality Check”

By Veronica Barber-Moore

Cancer — such an ugly word. Cancer — she can be an adjective or a noun. Cancer — she is not selective. Cancer — she forces you to decide quickly whether you will fold or fight. Cancer — stop avoiding her; at some point in life, you will speak her name, whether it’s about yourself or someone you love.

After my colonoscopy, everything moved fast. I was referred to a surgeon within a week. When the results of my carcinoembryonic antigen (CEA) tumor marker test came back, the numbers were especially high. That alone told me this wasn’t something small or simple. A surgery date was scheduled almost immediately.

As I waited for that date to arrive, reality hit me harder than anything ever had. Cancer kills. We don’t always win the fight. She can diminish… or she can escalate. And in that waiting period, you have no choice but to face every possibility.

I threw myself into learning everything I could about colon cancer — survival rates, treatment paths, what to expect, what could go wrong, what could go right. But the hardest part wasn’t the research. It was telling my family. Especially my twelve‑year‑old son.

It’s not the words that break you; it’s the emotions that come with them. The fear in their eyes. The silence after you speak. The weight of knowing your pain becomes their pain.

My family surrounded me with love and support. They gave me a moment to be sad, to cry, to feel the shock — but only a moment. Then they lifted me up and pushed me gently but firmly into “fight mode.” They reminded me that I wasn’t facing this alone.

I had to take an immediate leave of absence from work. Thankfully, my spouse’s insurance covered the surgery, and the secondary insurance from my job helped keep our household afloat. We’re a two‑income family, and like many, we rely heavily on both incomes to make ends meet. 

Cancer doesn’t care about bills, responsibilities, or timing — but life still goes on, and somehow you have to keep up.

This was the beginning of the battle.

To be continued in Part 3.

    Leave a Reply

    Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

    *

    *