One evening as a busy, busy day came to an end, Jeremy and I were joking around. I can't even remember now what it was about, but then he handed me a diagnosis sheet. I wasn't really sure what it was at first. Just a lot of medical words I wasn't familiar with. At the bottom it said the diagnosis was Testicular Cancer. I think I felt the blood rush to my face. I was super shocked and didn't know what to say. So I just responded with a half chuckle, "What is this?" He nodded towards the paper and the room grew very quiet. So quiet that you could hear the sound of silence if you know what I mean.
As we started speaking, he told me that he had found a lump and went to the Dr., who then sent him to another Dr. in Utah County to have an Ultrasound, and then met with another Dr. When the final diagnosis finally came Jeremy decided that surgery was the best option to remove it. It was scheduled the following week.
That was it. So we would cut out this lump and be done. No more. I felt OK about this. But Dr's aren't usually definite when speaking about a prognosis. They add things like "I hope" or "probably" or even "the outlook looks good." But never "You're done."