Back in January, when I first went to chemo, a young woman showed up for my first session. She was not a nurse, she was a former patient, and we share a doctor. Like me, she had two very young children when she found out she had stage 4 colon cancer. One of her sons was just three months old, in fact.
She is a marvel. The cancer had filled her pelvis and 95% of her lungs. But she's a rockstar and a fighter. She endured THIRTY rounds of chemo (I'll be at a paltry #14 tomorrow, by comparison), plus 2 surgeries AND radiation. And then she went into COMPLETE REMISSION!
Seriously. Think about that. I can't think of anyone deserving anything more than she deserved that.
Since January, she came to almost every single one of my bi-weekly chemo sessions, always making time in her busy life to support me. She made herself available for my weird questions ("Did this ever happen to you?"-type stuff) and talked me off the ledge more than a few times.
On top of that, she's feisty, funny, and she has the greatest attitude despite the crappity crap crap she's been through.
Last week, at her one-year scan, she learned the cancer had returned. Just a little bit, here and there, but she now will start chemo again. We have decided to ride out my remaining chemo sessions together. She and I, in our chemo chairs, shooting the breeze all the livelong day (and believe me, this girl can talk. Just like me.) That cancer ward won't know what hit it. The noise level will be deafening. Girl power all over the place. Oozing.
Just wanted to tip my hat to my pal, A.