Part 2. That night we sat discussing my wife's options. She could opt for a double mastectomy, a single mastectomy of the affected breast, or a Lumpectomy that would remove the cancer and a small amount of healthy tissue surrounding the lump. I'm afraid I wasn't very useful in that conversation. I was terrified that I would give the wrong advice so when she asked me I simply told her that it was her decision to make and explained the options to her one by one. This was necessary because in the shock of everything that had happened, her mind seemed to be dumping the information. The double mastectomy would insure that she never had a recurrence of breast cancer. The single mastectomy would insure that she never had a recurrence in the affected breast. The lumpectomy would remove the cancer and would be followed by chemotherapy and then radiation therapy however there would be a chance of recurrence. After explaining her options I told her that my only goal was her continued presence in my life. I would support any decision that she made as long as it involved getting well. She eliminated the double mastectomy as too extensive at that point and we then discussed the remaining options again. After a lengthy discussion she decided that she wanted to go with the lumpectomy and follow up treatments. I supported her decision because the doctor had assured us that if she opted for that procedure and there was a recurrence then her odds would be the same as the ones that she was currently facing. That night we broke the news to our respective families, both of which were shocked to hear that my wife was now battling the disease. Everyone was very supportive and kind. I explained the options when my wife faltered and handed me the phone. Some family members questioned the wisdom of the option that she had selected, but I defended her choice pointing out what the doctor had said regarding the odds. I also used an analogy by pointing out that if I had an injured finger I'd want it amputated and not the entire hand so I could understand my wife's position. No one actually said it, but I had a sense that perhaps they thought that I had persuaded her to take an option that would retain the greater portion of the affected breast. I didn't care though because I knew that simply wasn't the case. I would have accepted her decision for the double mastectomy because it wasn't her figure I was concerned about. My concern was that I would lose my wife and that thought was terrifying. Compared to that loss anything was preferable. But rationally I could relate to her desire to preserve as much of her body as possible. The day my wife had her lumpectomy we were both overwhelmed by the support of the family members who were in attendance and sat in the large waiting room while she underwent the surgery. It wasn't just our immediate family either. Some of my Aunts were there as was my Step-Father's sister. I can't overemphasize the importance of the moral support and what it meant to me as the time dragged by in that waiting room. The doctor had informed us that they would do the lumpectomy and then do a axillary lymph node dissection. When the doctor finally came to the waiting room to see me I was a nervous wreck. He informed me that my wife had came through the surgery just fine and was in recovery where she would remain for a while under the careful observation of the staff before being taken to her room. Then the doctor gave me the bad news. Several of the lymph nodes showed evidence that the cancer had spread. My wife had the fast spreading invasive cancer. If not for the support of our families I don't know how I would have gotten past the next hour. My wife's oldest sister stepped forward and asked all the right questions as my mind reeled in shock from the news. She then patiently explained to me what the next steps would entail as my mind had stopped registering the doctors words at some point. When my wife was wheeled out of recovery I walked beside her bed and held her hand as she was wheeled through the halls. Flowers had arrived in her room while she was in surgery. The people at her factory had chipped in and sent a nice bouquet and an eloquent card that expressed their support for my wife. I remember that she cried as she read the card. Then the moment I had dreaded finally came and my wife asked me what the doctor had said. Some of the family members had suggested that I keep the truth from her for at least a while. I even considered doing so, but as she looked into my eyes I could tell that she saw the truth in my face and in my eyes. We've always had an honest relationship and had been married for years at that point in time. I told her the truth at that point and she cried again. Her oldest sister once more proved an invaluable ally as she reassured my wife that this wasn't a death sentence. The doctor was fairly sure that the cancer had not spread beyond the lymph nodes. Continued in Part 3.