Meeting My Oncologist: Another Angel in the Room
The afternoon of my diagnosis, after taking some time at home to rest and process, Chris and I headed to the Mays Cancer Center to meet my oncologist. It wasn’t just another appointment, it was the beginning of the next chapter in a story I didn’t choose, but one I’m determined to write with strength.
The clinic was unusually quiet. No one else had been scheduled that day.
A Warm Welcome in a Cold Place
The staff was kind and welcoming, gently guiding me through the intake process and into the exam room. One nurse mentioned that my oncologist, Dr. Jones, had been at the hospital earlier but knew I was coming and would likely be there soon.
She handed me the infamous pink robe and told me I probably had a few minutes before needing to change. But I decided to just put it on so I was ready. I barely had time to sit down next to Chris before there was a knock on the door.
And then in walked Dr. Jones.
With a warm smile and undeniable energy, she said, "Oh, it’s so nice to meet you — in the place I’m sure you never wanted to be."
A Doctor, A Guide, A Light
From the moment she stepped into the room, I felt like I was meeting another one of my angels, someone the universe had placed in my path with purpose.
She asked me if I was religious. I told her that I believed and she smiled and said, “I’m a Universe girl. I believe that every patient who finds their way to me is here for a reason, we were meant to meet.”
She wasn’t just kind, she was brilliant. She spoke with the confidence of someone who knew what she was doing and the heart of someone who deeply cared.
She even engaged with Chris’ detailed chemistry questions about the chemotherapy drugs — which, if you know Chris, says a lot about her patience and depth of knowledge.
The Diagnosis — and the Plan
Then, in the gentlest way possible, she walked me through my official diagnosis: HER2-positive, estrogen-negative, stage III breast cancer.
Hearing those words could have been crushing. But she delivered them with something unexpected — hope.
She told me the medications for HER2+ cancer are incredibly effective. That she had full confidence they would work. That I could beat this.
And then she said something I’ll never forget:
“I chose to be a cancer doctor. Your job is not to worry about this disease. Give it to me. You focus on being a mom. You focus on being you.”
She even joked that I wasn’t getting out of grocery shopping or school pickups — and she’d be offended if I felt nauseous or threw up. She brought levity to a heavy moment of my life.
From Fear to Faith
Just 24 hours before, I didn’t know what my future looked like. I didn’t know if I’d get to watch my kids grow up. I didn’t know what I was facing or how long I'd be fighting.
And now, standing in that quiet exam room, holding Chris’s hand, hearing Dr. Jones speak with certainty, compassion, and fire — I believed I was going to make it.
Because she believed it.
Another Angel
Meeting Dr. Jones was more than a medical appointment. I walked into that room unsure and a little scared. I walked out with a plan, a partner in my care and a renewed sense of purpose.
And once again, I was reminded: guardian angels come in many forms. Sometimes, they wear white coats.
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