When The Phone Rings That Early, It's Bad News

The other morning as I was getting ready for work, the phone rang and because our friends Debbie and Don are early risers we assumed it was Deb. They get up so early, they get the bird that gets the worm. This is not unusual. Deb usually calls at this time because it's the best time to get my wife. My wife and I exchange looks and say in our sleepy voices "Debbie". I pick up the phone and look at the caller ID. I frown and say "My Mom," I hand the phone over to my wife. I am from the school of thought that if the phone rings between 11pm and 8 am, the news is bad.
My baby sister had recently had a cancerous tumor removed and had undergone radiation and had recently even had a feeding tube put in. Her spirits are good though. My wife spoke and then she bit her lip as she was trying not to cry. I looked at her and went back to making my lunch. I had a sick feeling in my gut. My wife spoke to her for over an hour and I went to work. Right before my shift started, my cell rang. I took a deep breath and answered. My wife told me the cancer was back, bigger and stronger. It had spread. I cannot tell you how sick I felt. I sat on a skid of boxes, away from my arriving coworkers. I did my best to not cry.
I cannot believe this is happening. Although all of my siblings have a neurologial disease and this is one of the possible side affects, I never wanted any of use to experience any of them, especially cancer. Cancer killed my Dad. He carried the gene ( and the disease) we all inherited.
I'm slightly numb. My sister is 33, she has a 7 year old daughter. My sister is adorable. Tiny, little hips , big chest, long hair, nice smile and she's a firecracker. It seems unfair. Of course anyone having cancer is unfair. It seems horrible to hear about someone you know having it, or one of their family. But when it hits your loved ones, it's the worse.
On Wednsday, she will have a MRI and meet immediately with two docs, and possibly a neurosurgeon to determine a treatment course. I hope it will be a good one. I hope it's anything that will help her. More surgery, a clinical program, anything. She is remaining positive. She's upbeat and she has talked with her daughter. The little one knows her momy is sick and has told her 'not to be scared to die, because if she dies she can be with her Daddy again'. Pretty heavy coming from a 7 year old.
I'm going to remain an optimist for as long as I can. I know, unusual for an Irishman. I'm also smart enough to know she's in for a fight and I'll continue to pray for some kind of miracle