What Not To Say To Someone With Cancer

Will everyone PLEASE chill on the cancer horror stories?? I'm a bit tired now tonight. Didn't sleep very well last night (4 hrs), spent all day at the Outdoor Retailer show, strolling along the aisles forgetting my life has changed forever and now I've had the shittiest evening of all time.
I took Sage up to Kamas for a kiddie pool party my friend was throwing. Over cake, she thought she was helping by introducing me to a woman who had grade 1 breast cancer like me. Except that after treatment and a clean diagnosis/prognosis from her dr, she got the same in the other breast and now has jaw cancer. Which means she's probably going to die sooner rather than later according to the radiology oncologist I spoke with last Thursday. Then, my friend described another friend of hers who died of brain cancer at 29 and another who has it presently, and finished by telling me her aunt died of lung cancer despite never smoking. As my friend Kristen put it, "What the hell was that woman thinking?!"
I got home, curled up in a ball in the corner of my closet and sobbed. This is not helpful nor what I need to hear right now!
I was doing fairly well for the last few days. Today, not so much. What I need right now is a good therapist, 100 other stories of how women like me live the same life span as those who never had cancer and a 2-hr pedicure/massage. Not conversations with women who can't get ahead of the eight ball or who die. I'm scared enough as it is, dammit. So please, make something up or at least save those dire tales for those outside of earshot. Thank you. :)

Finally the guts to share this with everyone....

I woke up this morning thinking- wishing - yesterday was just one big nightmare and not real. That I could go about my day as if the bomb had never been dropped.
I have breast cancer.
Well, at least that's what the radiologist seems to gravely think after surveying my follow-up mammogram and ultrasound. 'It doesn't look good, I'm afraid' he said. Oh yeah- he kept saying he was sorry- like he had bumped my cafeteria tray or something. Your instinct is to say 'that's ok' but I held my tongue ... because it's NOT OKAY! And now it's the god damn fourth of July weekend and doctors have all decided that medical issues can wait.
I have an appt wed. with a general surgeon that may or may not take my insurance so I'm not sure if I have a 'next step' yet, even though I need one. I guess I could just pay for the office visit and find another doctor to do the surgery after Dr. Neumayer makes a diagnosis but then it would be like getting a second opinion and all of this is about time. Get this thing out. We don't yet know what stage it is, whether it's spread to lymph nodes and would require radiation or chemo or both. The consensus for sure is that a lumpectomy is in order.
I figure since I was planning on a boob job eventually, that they might as well lop the whole thing off and something good can come from tragedy. Yes, tragedy. That's how I feel. I always thought that if someone told me I had cancer I would fight like hell (which I will) and have that fiercely positive attitude to carry me through it. How the hell are people positive? I've been crying at the drop of a hat since before the doc actually broke the news. I didn't cry myself to sleep because I was drunk and passed out, but this morning the tears turned back on. This isn't me- this teary chick. And that hurts even more- to feel so doomed.
The thing that scares me the most in this whole world - death- is sitting on my shoulder. I go get this biopsy, they tell me it's spread, that I need chemo, the hair falls out, I'm sick and tired all the time, my organs stop functioning and I die. That's not how I saw the rest of my life the day I met the radiologist.
I'm supposed to be holding Sage on my shoulders at the fair, dancing with her at her birthday parties, taking her skiing in Europe, hugging her at her graduation and telling her how gorgeous she looks on her wedding day. I'm supposed to be arcing at Alta when I'm 80! Not gone. Not someone's memory. I don't want people to be sorry for me. I wanted them to be envious.
Could this all just be a scare? They take a lump out like people have cysts removed all the time? But the radiologist with his somber countenance and heavy tone crushed that hope. Ryan cried too yesterday. He heard it as well. Stef talked with us after and he said that made him feel a little better. Like we had a plan and it wasn't all death and roses. He's really in this with me. I hate myself for bringing him all of this 'life'. If he dated someone his own age, he wouldn't need to experience all of this. Poor guy.
I keep going through my head - was it the junk food I eat, the coffee (but over the year it doesn't begin to total what the average - healthy- person drinks), karma? But I never killed anyone.
I've always been a lucky person. Does that mean I will also be lucky here or that my luck's run out?