Holding on through the Unknown

PET Scan – April 15th

The days leading up to the PET scan—and the unknown that came with it—were truly agonizing. I can honestly say I had rarely seen Andy cry, but during those days, he held me with tears in his eyes. He kept reassuring me that everything would be okay, and that no matter what, he would keep our children grounded in faith. We held each other often, but it felt different this time—heavier, as fear quietly settled in.

The PET scan itself wasn’t too bad. It was at least much quicker than the MRIs I had the week before. When it was over, I sat up slowly and took a moment before standing. I said a small prayer and asked the technician how long it would take to get the results. She mentioned it was already late in the afternoon, so it might not be until the next morning before Dr. Hake called.

When I got home, Andy came home right away instead of going to track practice. We were all waiting, anxious and on edge. Then, just a few hours later, my phone rang—Dr. Hake.

As Clara handed me the phone, I told her to go get her dad. We stepped out onto the deck together, and I put the call on speaker so we could both listen. Dr. Hake began gently, “I am so sorry, Sheila…” and then the words that changed everything: metastatic bone cancer. He explained it had been found in multiple areas—my left hip, lumbar spine, ribs, scapula, skull, and femur—but there was no evidence in my liver, lungs, or brain. He repeated how sorry he was.

Tears filled my eyes, and I didn’t know what to say. Andy immediately began asking questions. I don’t even remember what he asked—I felt frozen in that moment, like time had stopped. Dr. Hake told us they would schedule a biopsy for Friday to determine whether this was a recurrence of my breast cancer or something new. He ended the call with his gentle voice saying, “Hang in there. We’ll talk again soon.”

After we hung up, the kids came out to the screened porch where we were sitting, holding each other. We shared the news with the kids. With tears in their eyes, they wrapped me in the biggest hugs. Andy tried to reassure them that this was something we could treat. But in my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder—how could this be treatable when it was in so many places already?