"I might lose my right eye.
The fear struck me as I gazed at the eucalyptus trees. What would that be like? I began thinking about practical things such as driving. Would the State of California even give me a driver's license if I had only one eye? How had this happened so suddenly? I had just finished my term as president of my fraternity, and was at the top of my world.
And what about girls? I had always taken things like dating girls for granted. And I couldn't remember any girl ever turning me down. But suppose I ended up with only one eye and half of my nose removed and portions of my cheek and upper lip removed. I would never get another date. I'd be a total outcast. All these thoughts and fears had grown up in my mind during the few short moments it took Rob and me to leave the clinic and jump into my parents' car.
Rob and I buckled our seat belts in silence as my father tried to maneuver back onto Parnassus Avenue from the curb.
"I'm so sorry," my father said, and broke down in tears.
"It's okay," I said. I hoped that my reassurance would stop him from saying anything more because his words had practically brought me to tears, too. I couldn't bear to see anyone cry right then. My family's sadness would only make me weep, and I wanted them to think that I was tough, strong, and confident. I thought that if I could keep a stiff upper lip, it would be much easier on them. Besides, crying would have revealed a weakness in me that they had never seen before. I don't think anyone in my family had seen me cry since I was a young child.
But I had to keep biting my lip after my father said those words. I had never seen him cry before. He had always been the epitome of controlled emotions. I felt much more love for my father than ever before, hearing and feeling his emotions. He had always been so pragmatic that I had never known he felt so deeply. But now it was certain. My father loved me a great deal."
~ Terry Healy
At Face Value - My Triumph Over a Disfiguring Cancer