I thought that this was a day to look forward to, a step toward regaining our active life. K and I strolled out into the intense rays of the sun barely above the horizon.
The surgeon started palpating her toes, and his brow furrowed even more. He said that he wanted some x-rays, just to rule out bad things. After doing the x-rays, he sent me and K to start physical therapy and said that he’d tell me the results afterwards.
Within 10 minutes, as K walked on an underwater treadmill, the surgeon's dark shadow loomed in the doorway. The “C” word leaped out of his mouth – bone cancer. He wanted to do an array of tests to check K’s chest, abdomen, and further probe her toe bone. His expression told me that we needed these tests asap. K was swept away into the back of the hospital. It felt like she was snatched from me.
My girl is only seven years old – it’s too soon for this. We'll do everything in our power to help her.