Three weeks out of commission and I felt the most incredible amount of pain and discomfort. The scar throbs, for three days I couldn’t eat any solids. For a week I could barely speak. I could not walk without feeling major pain and weakness in my body and my knees. My neck is stiff. I just want to know what is happening with me. A month prior to surgery I had seen an endocrinologist, the unmentionable, after what felt like twenty unanswered calls he finally contacted me to give me the results of the tests performed on the removed thyroid gland and lymph nodes. “I am sorry I cannot give you good news. You have a muscular skeletal spread. The cancer is one with metastasis.” What in the world did this mean? He couldn’t tell me exactly until the total body scan was done. When would that be? In a month or so there was no rush. Oh Lord, what is it with these doctors? There is no “rush” for them because they are not the ones going through it! I want to live, but how if I felt at every moment that very desire was being threatened. My family, friends, and coworkers showed so much support I felt overwhelmingly blessed. I want to thank them by being strong, but I don’t know how. I call work to hear the children speak. They welcome me with their sweet chorus of “We miss you Miss. Cruz” and it all makes sense. I have to get better because I owe it to them. I owe it to the world to be the best me I can be no matter what challenges I face. God didn’t place me here for any other reason. It’s not a matter of why God did this to me but what do I do with what God has done. Cancer must be a blessing, but how could I see it this way?