'the hope which has no opposite in fear'

The words were stark:

"Histology of the first slide showed fibrocystic change while the other slide revealed neoplastic proliferation of epithelium [... that] appears to be of ductular origin."

The report screamed: "HISTOPATHOLOGIC DIAGNOSIS: INVASIVE DUCTAL CARCINOMA".

As I read each line, I was silently muttering, "no, no, no...". My wife, Peng, just stared at the page -- the words might not have sunk in yet.

After discussing the findings with the doctor, we sat on the bench outside the clinic, the early morning light seeping into the dimly lit corridor.

"Why?" Peng asked. I usually have quick replies to all her questions, but this time, I had nothing.

We consulted another specialist, who confirmed the diagnosis and provided options for treatment, which were the same as what the previous doctor recommended: "modified radical mastectomy". The words seemed all muddled up, the meaning hidden in jargon: "hormone receptor tests", "lymphatic-vascular invasion", "cellular differentiation".

They all boiled down to this: Peng has breast cancer, she would have to lose her left breast, and undergo chemotherapy.

The words finally sunk in.

At night, while huddled in the darkness, she would ask, "Why? Why me?" I would tell her, it may be something in the way her body reacted; it could be in her genes; we may never know, but really, the important thing is that it's treatable, there's a big chance of recovery, she will get well.

Yes, I try to convince myself, too: Peng -- my wife, the mother of my kids, love of my life -- will get well. We will get rid of the cancer, we will go through all the treatments, we will beat this.

We're scared. But we're not alone. Our families and friends, as soon as they heard the news, formed a protective cocoon around us, giving solace, telling us, "Everything will be alright." We're grateful.

* * *

At times, when I feel scared, I recite the "Litany Against Fear" from Dune: "I shall not fear / Fear is the mind-killer [...] / Where fear has gone there will be nothing / Only I will remain."

Yes, there is still fear, but it will soon be gone. This time, it won't be just me replacing it in the silent void. As e. e. cummings wrote:

love is the voice under all silences,
the hope which has no opposite in fear;
the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:
the truth more first than sun more last than star

---do lovers love?why then to heaven with hell.
Whatever sages say and fools, all’s well 

Everything will be alright. All is well.