Deer In The Headlights

Up until Sunday morning I had been peaceful with the news of my cancer. I was weary of having to tell people the news, but still I was "up". While in the shower Sun morning dread hit me in the face. Not dread of the disease, but dread of telling my Sunday school class. There are 25 DEAR women in there who are a tight knit group. I knew I wanted to be the one to tell them, but I hated to all the same. At least these were my thoughts while I was in the shower. I got out of the shower , dried off, put on my underpants and stood there (hair dripping), looking in my bathroom mirror. I was like a deer in the headlights. I turned to Bill and said, "I'm scattered (in my brain). I don't know what to do next." In typical Bill fashion he replied,"Put on your bra. Dry your hair. Go on auto-pilot." That was all I needed. I could do that- and I did. It was just the jump start I needed.