Threat To My Happily Ever After
I have been riding the scariest roller coaster ride of my life since August 2009. That’s when we found out something that changed our lives forever. We were unsuspecting that the result of my lab test would proved to be disheartening. We all thought that it would be just a regular skin disease but we thought wrong. It was on August 8, 2009 when the derma pathologist called me up and asked me to drop by her office because the result of my test had already come out. We were to attend my dear friend’s daughter’s second birthday party at McDonalds by 3 p.m. It was just noon when I received the call. The doctor’s voice was somewhat grave and I had a feeling that something was terribly wrong. I then asked my husband to drop by the doctor’s office before going to the party. We got there at 2 p.m. An excited Pia was squealing with joy because in an hour she’ll be attending her first children’s party as a guest. I talked to the doctor’s secretary and she said that I’m the twelfth among all the patients there but she was instructed by the doctor to send me in first. This time my heart beat rate was shooting up the ceiling already. But I was still able to give my husband a faint smile. I knew that he’s as nervous as I was. I remained calm, though, and was ushered to the doctor’s office. I still managed to greet Dr. Pabico cheerfully but when she did not answer, lowered her gaze and asked me to sit down politely instead, I just knew that what she was going to tell me wasn’t good news at all. She’s not her usual bubbly and in jest self who always wears a plastered smile on her face whenever she sees me. She said “I wish I could say that I’ve got good news for you but I’m really sorry to tell you otherwise. You see, the result of your biopsy proved that the white patches on your skin are not Vitiligo but I am afraid that it is something much worse than that. Tim, you’ve got Mycosis Fungoides, a type of Cutaneous T-cell Lymphoma, in other words, a rare kind of skin cancer.”
We said the last two words almost at the same time. I know what she was referring to. I am a voracious reader and I read almost anything, everything including those with medical contents. I know that you all expect me to have broken down and cried at that moment but I didn’t. And it wasn’t because I have always been a brave person but because it did not dawn on me at once. I thought I was watching a Korean soap and it has reached the climax already when the heroine has found out that she’s about to die soon. But I kept on thinking why do I keep on seeing myself in the scene? I am supposed to be just a spectator and not a partaker. I left the doctor’s office without saying anything else aside from “Thank you” after she discussed all the possible treatments that I will undergo. My husband wasn’t able to say anything at all. He was so silent with a faraway look in his eyes. I was clutching the biopsy result to my heart and I was walking aimlessly in the hospital’s corridors. I snapped back to reality when my nanny who was carrying a smiling Sophia in her arms called my attention and asked me how the result went. I looked at her and croaked “cancer.” And that’s when Sophia stretched out her arms as if she wanted me to carry her and said “Mama.” She seldom calls me that. She prefers calling me “Mimi” but that day she might have felt that I needed her to call me “Mama”. That’s all it took for me to open the floodgates of tears welling in my eyes. I cried uncontrollably, wretchedly. I bawled like a baby while other people were watching. I whimpered like I have never done before in public. I didn’t care what others would have thought of me. I was unstoppable. It was inevitable. I knew that the moment I walked out of that office I will break down sometime. But I didn’t know that I will be giving in to my emotions that soon. My husband just glanced at me; it was as if his legs suddenly turned to lead to walk and try to console me. I did not take that against him. I knew what his eyes were telling me even if his actions said otherwise. I knew that he felt all that I have felt during that time; fear, pity, sadness and hopelessness. The silent walk to the parking lot was the longest five minutes of our lives. The silence was deafening. I was hugging Sophia so tight, afraid to even try to let her go even for awhile. Our trusted nanny was quietly sobbing behind us. When we got inside the car, my husband and I looked at each other and that’s when we knew that it’s time for us to grieve together. We embraced, kissed, and held hands while we let our uncontainable tears flow freely. He kept on saying “I love you so much” and “We’ll get through this” and “We will be okay, I know.” But we both knew that we won’t be fine for quite some time. How can we be? I am 31 years old. We just got married two years ago; we lost our honeymoon baby to miscarriage months after we tied the knot and now our darling daughter has just turned one year old and I’ve got cancer. It’s hard to be okay when you are still young but death might rob you off your chance at happily ever after already.
I never believed in fairy tales though I love reading them. I had a hard life growing up. I will spare you the drama and not discuss it here anymore. And it was only when I got married that I found true happiness in my little family. And now I don’t even know how much long God will allow me to be with them. But just like what I told everyone else, I am keeping my faith no matter what. I have surrendered my life to God; I no longer try to control it. After all, I am really not the Master of my Fate and the Captain of my Soul, God is. I will not tell you that I do not get scared anymore because I still do. I succumb to fear every once in awhile. I will not tell you that I do not self pity either because I throw a big pity party and host it as well from time to time. But the difference now is that I do not feel hopeless anymore. I believe that while there is life, there is hope. And God is my hope, my only hope.
I have promised myself and my family that I will not give up without fighting. I will never say die without trying to live. And there’s no way that I will surrender without going into the battle first. This is one war that I hope to win and if I don’t at least I know in my heart that I’ve done everything to try to conquer and defeat it.


I’m out of words, don’t know what to say when you have just received bad news like this, but want to leave a comment anyway.
Reading your last paragraph, I can imagine the fear that you must have felt after receiving the news. I read your post a while back in which you wrote that there were health related problems in your life, and wondered if all was alright.
I can only hope and pray that you will find your inner strength back to get through this. Skin cancer is very dangerous and fast spreading, but luckily also the most easy to treat. I guess you must have received treatment by now. Did they remove the cancerous skin? No spreading? How are you now?
Sis, He won’t give you anything you can’t handle. It’s not really reassuring but it is what it is. You’ll just have to fight and keep the faith. I will visit you this week. Miss u na. I have included you in my novena petitions to Our Lady of La Naval. I am really hoping sis na mawala yan. You family, your mom and your pamangkins need you pa.
Love u, sis! God bless.
Hey Sis! Its really heartbreaking i cried reading your post … it’s unexpected but all i can do is to pray for you. We’re all here for you.. We all love you! Keep the faith Tim.
It’s going to be a tough road ahead. Have the courage and will, and I wish you the best, keep the faith.
Hello Dear. I am a stranger to you but I read your post because I have a blog alert about mycosis fungoides. I am so sorry to learn of your diagnosis and will hold you in my prayers. I was diagnosed in February 2008 and it has been a very scary ride. However, like you, I have surrendered my fate to God and that is what keeps me strong in this fight. Keep us informed of your progress and remember what your sis says, “He won’t give you anything you can’t handle”. There is comfort in knowing that the patient usually outlives the disease. You are young and it usually strikes people at the average age of 50 or so. I am told the only thing that can effect a total cure is stem cell transplantation. Everything else is mainly symptoms management. I hope to add another entry to my blog soon in order to share what I know about the disease. Keep the faith. The peace of mind you seek is there for you. Bless you.
Hang on Tim, we are all praying for you and your family. Take care and keep the faith.
My goodness, the story of your reaction to hearing the doctor say cancer, was just like mine…that was 19 years ago and I am living very well with Mycosis fungoides (CTCL). Beacuse this is a rare disease, I suggest you see a speciaist. Please go to http://www.clfoundation.org for lots of information. You can also call me personally for a lot of information that will help. Judy Jones 248-644-9014. Cutaneous Lymphoma Foundation
Be strong Tim. I don’t know you well but there is strength in your words. A tough fight ahead, but you look surrounded by people who love you.
I just read last night, that optimism is energy, and it affects all other things in this world if maintained. So keep the optimism strong.
@tlc Hi, there! I’m so happy to hear from someone who shares my disease. At least now I know that I am not alone in this. Thanks for the offer of prayers. I really appreciate it. I hope to learn and read more about this rare disease and I would like to know also of other bloggers who have the same as our ailment. You just don’t know how much this means to me. Thank you so much for your kindness. Take care always and May God always bless you.
@ Liza Thank you so much for the offer of prayers, I’m really grateful for it. Take and May the Good Lord bless you and the rest of your family.
@Judy Thank you so much Judy for the offer of help. I’ll be visiting your suggested website on my free time. I’m sure I will be learning a lot from it. Thank you for letting me know that I am not the only one who has this and that there are kind people out there who are willing to help understand and accept this kind of rare disease. May God bless your kind soul. Good day!
Thanks for visiting my blog and explain a little more on your current situation. I was shocked to read that you are “in the waiting game” as you describe it. Nothing can be worse than waiting. After you receive the news, I can imagine you just want action.
And I was also surprised that you are kept waiting, but I did not know yet what Cutaneous T-cell Lymphoma is. I followed Judy’s advice and I read more on the subject and understand now that it is quite different than skin cancer, and is not exactly treated as such. Sorry to say that it scares me too! But find comfort in TLC’s words: “There is comfort in knowing that the patient usually outlives the disease.”
You’re in my prayers.
I don’t know you..but reading your post brought tears to my eyes. I will not soon forget you, in fact I know I will remember you in my prayers. I am a mother as well..and this is just heartbreaking. I am also a Christian and so proud to have you as a sister in Christ.
Sending cyber hugs to you, my dearest cousin. Just hold on and keep the faith. I will be praying for you.
I found your blog on google and read some of your other posts. I just added you to my Google News Reader. Keep up the epic work Look forward to reading more from you in the future. Wishing you all the best of everything