Dr. Brayton is able to get me in for a CT scan. It is my first of many. I am in excruciating pain. Afterwards I try to go to the bathroom and scream out loud as I try to lower my body to sit on the toilet. Dr. Brayton again makes some calls and is able to get my results much sooner than I would have been able to, as I did not have a primary care physician. She calls my mother that evening with the news that everyone has been dreading.
It’s cancer.
I watch my family immediately fall to pieces, but I am numb. Somehow I feel like I knew this was coming. I sit in the chair, unable to move, unable to cry, as my family goes up to the urgent care to talk to Dr. Brayton and look over the write up of my CT scan. They believe it is large cell renal carcinoma, only treatable by surgery. An MRI is scheduled for Wednesday. My mom begins her quest for information regarding my cancer and treatment, starts a folder of all the results we are receiving. I gratefully allow her to take over. I just don’t want to know.
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This is the story of my battle with Ewing's Sarcoma. At the time that these events unfolded,I was too ill to write anything. In July of 2009, I celebrated the end of my treatments with my friends and family, and wanted to compose something so that they could see the last year through my eyes. This is what happened, to the best of my memory, aided by the many posts on the wall of my facebook group- "I Will Pray for Angie Emond"
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