I find it hard to believe that Monday morning, I was well. Then at 2:17pm, I've got cancer. I remember it down to the exact minute the nurse told me... it was oh, I'm so sorry, you can still try to have more kids later if you want, I'm sorry. I handled it pretty well. Called my soon-to-be husband to tell him that the surgery is scheduled for next week and that I need him there, called my boss to tell her and that I had to have surgery the 21st, called my to-be mother-in-law to ask her to watch my 9 month old the night before surgery till that Sunday. Called my mom to tell her I fallowed in her footsteps, have a baby then WHAM the fallow-up pap smears led to biopsies and now...cancer. Called my dad, who hung up on me when I said I was having surgery next week for Cancer... he remembers the fight my mom put up and the multiple surgeries and the way it affected mine and her relationship because I was so young and mommy was so fragile that I couldn't touch her. And now it's Friday night. I'm at work and it hits me. I've got cancer.