If Today Was Your Last Day
<p>“Will, right now, it does not seem like we have very many options for you. Your prognosis curve shows a 5 and 10-year survival rate of…” my oncologist's words begin to muffle.</p>
<p>My ears start to ring. My head is down. I am looking at my hands, squeezing them tightly, pulling my fingers. I am trying to hold back the tears welling in the corners of my eyes. My sister is sitting across from me holding the phone with my mom on the line. I see the words wash over her as she begins to understand.</p>
<p>I look back up. Aggressively, I retort, “So, what are we dealing with here then? Are we just hoping the surgery took care of everything, even though we found residual cells?”</p>
<p>“I cannot really say. There is no research for patients with a <em>history</em> like yours.”</p>
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