Because Sometimes You Just Need to Ask About a Dog…
I’m an author. I used to work as a communications officer and as an adjunct professor. Finding words is what I do. Finding words to explain or teach or tell a story. Finding words to clarify information or to show how language works or to create emotions in readers.
And yet, when I got diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma in October 2017, words failed me. How do you tell people you have cancer? I had no clue and was worried about what they would say in return—or not say. It took me months to share the diagnosis with people outside of my very close circle. I didn’t have the words.
I had turned thirty-six a few months before diagnosis.
For nearly a year, I had been told that:
my back pain was due to bad posture and weak muscles,
the incessant itching on my legs and arms was due to dermatitis,
and the sharp pain I felt when having only one sip of alcohol didn’t mean anything—despite me mentioning I had read it could be a rare and early sign of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.