“I am so scared, but I know I have to find out what is wrong. But then if it is that I don’t know how I am going to deal with it. I am seeing the signs and symptoms, they are there but I don’t know…,” she said, with a pained expression.
“I have to find out because if it is that then I have to think about my children. I have to think about the treatment and taking care of them. It is really scary.”
For a moment, I thought she was going to burst into tears; she didn’t but the pain she felt was evident.
I was sitting on a bench when she came and sat next to me, angling her body in my direction; I knew she wanted to speak. We were both at the doctor’s office and as I surveyed the other patients she stood out. There was this pensive look about her. However, by then I was somewhat frustrated because the doctor had been called away and I was hours into my waiting. So, while I noticed her I did not reach out. It was when I left the building in a bid to get some fresh air that she approached me.