WitFit: Imagined Image: Write about a character who’s just had the worst night’s sleep ever. What happened to cause it? What are the results?

Rating/Warning(s)/Note(s: T, I have a very heavy heart tonight so this was a bit cathartic for me. I have lost a grandma and aunt to cancer. I refuse to lose anyone else.


I had tossed and turned all night. Whenever I looked at my clock angry red numbers glared back at me telling me it was only 30 minutes since I had last looked. I haven’t had this bad of a nights sleep since college. I could blame it on the late day coffee. Anything after 3pm was sure to keep me up. But I had had my last cup at 1:30pm. I could blame it on work and the stress of the promotion. But I had basically been doing the job I was promoted to for 5 months, I was only getting the official title and pay raise now. No, I couldn’t blame it on anything but me. This was all my fault, I had done this to myself.

When the doctor had given me my diagnosis this afternoon I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t. I always knew this was a possibility. I had just hoped it would skip me. It didn’t. I inherited my father’s dark hair and chin, his stubbornness and his loyalty. I inherited my mother’s eyes, her ears, her loving nature and the two words I never had wanted to hear again. Breast cancer. My great-grandmother, grandmother, great-aunt and mother had all been diagnosed. My great-aunt and mother were the only ones to beat it. I would have to tell my family soon. I tried to remember how mom had told us but couldn’t remember.

Finally at 5am I couldn’t take anymore so I got out of bed and started the coffee. I booted my computer, ready to start my research. I already knew a lot about it from my mom but I wanted, no needed, to learn more. At 6, I called my boss to let him know that I needed to take a personal day. I showered and made myself up as if I was going to work. I didn’t want to look like I was wallowing. Even if I had every right to. But I had seen my mother’s fight, her determination, and I couldn’t let her down.

I arrived at my mom and dad’s at 8am. My father was surprised to see me and I saw a flash of concern in his eyes before he engulfed me in a hug. My mom was in the kitchen making breakfast. Some people may think it was a little Donna Reed but this was normal to me. She turned around as I entered the room, poised with a spatula in her hand to scramble the eggs and looked right into my eyes. I tried not to give anything away, but this was my mother I never could hide anything from her. The spatula dropped to floor, little bits of egg flying and she started to tear up. She came forward and immediately wrapped me in her embrace. There was nothing in the world that had ever soothed me than being held by my mother. Yes, I was an adult, but sometimes I needed my mommy. She rocked me and held me tight for a few minutes before my father pulled her gently away from me. Just as I was always comforted in my mother’s arms, my father always knew when I needed to just be. I looked at them, tried to smile and told them to sit down.

At 12pm, we had a plan. We had appointments set up, we had family dinners planned, and we had Googled like it was going out of style. But most of all we had hope, we had faith and we had love. My mom was a powerhouse, it was exactly what I needed, she gave me information on doctors, hospitals, special bras, support groups, everything I could ask for and more. My parents said they wanted to go to all my appointments and I had to beg my mom not to move in with me. By 1pm, I was in my old room, on my bed. It was easier now to fall asleep. All the doubts I had throughout the night were gone. Even thought it was not the most peaceful sleep, it was what I needed.

I woke up refreshed, and went down stairs to see what my parents were up to. What I saw didn’t really surprise me. The sounds of chatter hit me first, then the delicious smell. In my parents kitchen was most of my family, trays of food lining the counters. The talking stopped the minute I entered the room. They all stared at me with varying emotions- love, sadness, respect, hope. This is when I knew what the outcome would be. I would beat this, it wouldn’t beat me. I would own this, it wouldn’t own me. I would make it my bitch, I wouldn’t be its. Breast cancer was not going to be the defining factor in my life. That choice was still mine.