As the door closed behind me the nurse station was in front of me and the nurse and I locked eyes her eyes seem lost, as if she did not want to see my way at the same time it was a sympathetic look, full of momentary sorrow. My new found reality exposed her look of sympathy I now know the reason for her sympathy. I did not have time to think or settle my thoughts I just smiled and headed towards the elevator.

As I waited for the elevator my legs weaken, my heart raced, I had not yet processed my reaction to the news. I passed the elevator and took the stairs. I thought what will you do, who will I call, how will you handle this? As I reach the second flight of stairs I slowed my paced. I knew once I reached my car I would be alone with my thoughts, I would need to react to the reality of being terminal, I would need to share the news. I did not want to react, I did not want to share the news I did not want to decide to do the trial or not do the trial, I did not want to face the reality. I wonder who would show up; strong me, positive me, motivated me or broken me, fearful me, full of doubt me. The door closed and all that accompanied me was silence and my new reality of this terminal illness. As I turned my car on my phone rang.