I knew when I found the lump on my left breast it was cancer. The moment I touched it, I just knew.

I discussed finding it with some family and friends who all superstitiously suggested I stop saying “it’s cancer.”

All I could think of is who will be there for my child? Yes, she was 16, but there was so much more to show her, teach her, support her and be there to guide her through. Since divorcing her father back in 2004, it’s just been Lista and I. We’ve lived in multiple states and overcome so much adversity over the years. As a single parent, I always wonder if I have instilled enough in her.

So, as I sat in that patient room, in that paper gown with Marvin Sapp’s “I Win” playing in the background to calm my nerves, I just kept praying repeatedly, “Please, let me live a little longer to prepare her. I need to see her through her senior year of high school. Lord, please don’t put this on her in high school. It will change the trajectory of her life if I die now.”

“You were right, it is cancer,” my breast specialist said calmly. I was diagnosed with aggressive invasive ductal carcinoma, stage III. As tears began to fall, I knew I had to fight for Kalista. I grabbed some Kleenex and asked, “What can I do to fight this? I can’t die now!” Then I asked, “How do I tell my daughter I have breast cancer without crying?”

As I drove to the high school, all I could think about was telling her as calmly as possible. She knew I was going to get my results and probably checking her phone for my text.

When I tell you God puts you in the right place, with the right people, at the right time. I walked up to the woman in the office, and asked her to send for my daughter to come to the office. Instead of complying, she began asking questions. All I could think was “Lady, I’m doing all I can to hold it together, just do what I asked and get my child.”

She asked, “Why do you need her…is everything okay?” Full of emotion, I just responded, “Well, I’m coming to let her know I have breast cancer!”

All of a sudden, women began coming from all areas of this office to surround me. They began to share they were survivors, how they remembered when they came to tell their kids and how I could beat this disease too!

I started balling because I felt very alone.

We live in a city where I only have one cousin. These women who I have never met became my instant support group because I was now a member of the club I never applied to. Nonetheless, they were there giving me their cell number, offering to go with me to appointments and holding my hand.

I went to the bathroom to get myself together because my daughter was on her way down. I was standing in the hallway when we made eye contact. At that moment, she knew I had cancer. We spent the rest of day together just talking, eating sushi and ice cream — it was what she wanted.

Through countless tests, a lumpectomy, surgery to get my port installed, 20 weeks of chemotherapy and 33 sessions of radiation, my child remained strong, resilient and encouraged. However, I could tell over time she wasn’t saying much regarding her feelings. No one prepares you for how to handle your child when you, as their parent, have cancer.

Then I remembered my nurse navigator mentioned a great idea — Camp Kesem, a camp for kids affected by cancer. Kalista was not interested and felt that as a junior in high school she was far too old to be at a camp with kids. I told her she was going to go and make the most of it. I tried to reassure her there would be other teens.

The day I dropped her off, she was pissed. Rolling her eyes, arms crossed and very quiet. I told her I believed Camp Kesem would be great for her. I hugged her and left. She wouldn’t have any electronic access to the world for a week. I prayed the camp experience would help her.

When I returned in a week to get her, my child was being surrounded with hugs and people telling her how much they would miss her. Her counselor began to tell me how she opened up on the second day, shared her story and concerns about my cancer. They said that she even got on stage to sing. Her camp name was Songbird.

When she got in the car, she thanked me for making her go. She felt better about all of her worries and concerns after seeing that she was not alone.

I am so thankful to the awesome people I have met because of this disease. Throughout my diagnosis and treatment, I use Facebook as my journal and to keep in touch with family and friends around the country. Many people will forever hold a dear place in my heart because of their messages of encouragement. I’ve created bonds and relationships with people that will last the rest of my life. I’m indebted to them for lifting me when I was low and celebrating me when I was high. They loved Kalista and I SO much and were there to stand in the gap when I couldn’t. I call them my GA family.

I am in remission now and I am trying to adjust to this post-treatment life. Nonetheless, I know we are not alone. We have family all around us! Trust your child can handle it. They are more resilient than you think. Also, when you see them shutting down, get them help to deal with their feelings. Lastly, you are doing your best with your kids. Adding cancer into the mix is just another opportunity to get it right.

Being a single parent with cancer is not easy at all, but it can be done with the help of others.