Here I am, less than a year out of college and my entire life ahead of me. Things seem to be working out according to plan giving me so much to be thankful for. I have the most incredible family that has loved and cared for me unconditionally, even in my most angsty teenage years. I have the kind of relationship everyone deserves. I have friends that I can always count on to share a good laugh with. I have been fortunate enough to graduate from an outstanding university and not owe a penny to student loans (thank you Mama). I have a job working for a huge company here in Chicago. I have everything in between. How truly lucky I am.
I realize it sounds like I'm sitting here bragging, but things haven't always been easy. There were times in my childhood where we experienced tragedy, loss, and a few other close calls. No matter what life threw our way, we somehow managed to pick up the pieces and make it through. At one point, we lost everything we owned in a house fire, but the three of us still had each other. We learned how to be strong from our mother. She would say that we got all of the bad stuff out of the way when we were kids so that we could live the rest of our lives happy as can be.
Until February 6, 2015, I thought that this pain and sadness I had experienced before had prepared me to face anything that came my way. In a matter of a 73 second phone call, any resilience I had dissipated right then and there. I walked out of what was actually a very uplifting meeting at work, we all talked about what we were grateful for. I then saw that I had missed a call from my dermatologist. She had left a voicemail saying that I needed to call her back and it was urgent, it was regarding something I had removed on my lower scalp just a few days earlier. Instantly, I knew something was not right. I had been going to her for years to get the same type of procedure done on other areas of my skin and every other time voicemails would say "the pathology results came back and they're totally normal, you're clear Sasha." I called her back as soon as soon as I could. She asked my mom and I to get to the office within the next few hours, that we would need to discuss a plan together. At this point, I think that maybe I'm hallucinating - that someone must have slipped something in my coffee or that the cheap red wine from the night before was getting to me. Next thing I know, I became hysterical in the middle of our open concept office. I left work frantically, jumped in a cab, and called my mom. I was about two blocks from my office when I got ahold of her so I had the cab drop me off at a nearby Starbucks. My mom began to panic when she heard my voice, shaky and crying. I began to relay the message from my doctor when she jumped in the car and hightailed it for the city to get me. She picked me up and we headed straight for the dermatologist's even though they couldn't fit us in for another hour and a half. We were way over the legal speed limit making it in record time, but it felt like the longest car ride I had ever been in. Deep down, I knew the news wasn't good news, but I had to hear it for myself.
I realize it sounds like I'm sitting here bragging, but things haven't always been easy. There were times in my childhood where we experienced tragedy, loss, and a few other close calls. No matter what life threw our way, we somehow managed to pick up the pieces and make it through. At one point, we lost everything we owned in a house fire, but the three of us still had each other. We learned how to be strong from our mother. She would say that we got all of the bad stuff out of the way when we were kids so that we could live the rest of our lives happy as can be.
Until February 6, 2015, I thought that this pain and sadness I had experienced before had prepared me to face anything that came my way. In a matter of a 73 second phone call, any resilience I had dissipated right then and there. I walked out of what was actually a very uplifting meeting at work, we all talked about what we were grateful for. I then saw that I had missed a call from my dermatologist. She had left a voicemail saying that I needed to call her back and it was urgent, it was regarding something I had removed on my lower scalp just a few days earlier. Instantly, I knew something was not right. I had been going to her for years to get the same type of procedure done on other areas of my skin and every other time voicemails would say "the pathology results came back and they're totally normal, you're clear Sasha." I called her back as soon as soon as I could. She asked my mom and I to get to the office within the next few hours, that we would need to discuss a plan together. At this point, I think that maybe I'm hallucinating - that someone must have slipped something in my coffee or that the cheap red wine from the night before was getting to me. Next thing I know, I became hysterical in the middle of our open concept office. I left work frantically, jumped in a cab, and called my mom. I was about two blocks from my office when I got ahold of her so I had the cab drop me off at a nearby Starbucks. My mom began to panic when she heard my voice, shaky and crying. I began to relay the message from my doctor when she jumped in the car and hightailed it for the city to get me. She picked me up and we headed straight for the dermatologist's even though they couldn't fit us in for another hour and a half. We were way over the legal speed limit making it in record time, but it felt like the longest car ride I had ever been in. Deep down, I knew the news wasn't good news, but I had to hear it for myself.