Here’s where I know lumps should not be: cake batters, mattresses, and body parts

Waiting for pathology results is an interesting way to practice both patience and denial. I’m getting pretty good at it — though not good enough. Let’s just say I’m better at one than the other. Wanna guess which?

In the past month I’ve had a doctor tell me that the biopsy results were cancer. My reaction? Think deer in the headlights. For not-long-enough I carried that sacred secret carefully (is there any load heavier than a secret?) with my life partner, and only after I let my new reality settle, was I willing to guardedly tell my loved ones. That last step was the most difficult, because after sharing this kind of news everything changes — forever.

You can almost predict some of the reactions. There are those whose quivering voices, silent tears, and throbbing hearts that you can almost feel, give them away. Others become tongue-tied, trying too hard not to trip over their awkward silences; and the “always sisters” find incredible ways to instinctively “sister.”

The ones who shared their cookies in camp are the same ones who will rally ‘round. Those who were always secretive don’t want to know more. The “it’s all about me” division will turn themselves into pretzels making sure you don’t forget who the main character should be.

New semi-strangers may become safe sounding boards. Muffins, soups, salads (good) and chocolates (better) suddenly appear. My daughter felt that such news deserves a nice piece of jewelry — because shouldn’t everything be celebrated with a nice piece of jewelry? You can tell who gave birth to her…

I’m not quite sure where they should be, but here’s where I know lumps should not be: cake batters, mattresses, and body parts.