“Cancer” is a common household word in our world
today—which is quite unfortunate. Last year, my father-in-law was diagnosed
with prostate cancer a few months before my mother-in-law was diagnosed with stage
4 non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. My
father-in-law put off his treatment decisions to care for his wife. She was so
advanced that she was given only three weeks. She didn’t even make it one week.
The last conversation we had was in her bedroom, as we watched one of those
reality shows about cake decorating. She’d make comments about how beautiful
the cake decorating was, and I’d agree. Every few minutes she’d fall asleep.
Less than two days later she was gone.
My kids worry about cancer. It’s on both sides of
their family. My grandmother had breast cancer, but it was a stroke that put
her on life support. My parents have endured skin cancer several times. My
father-in-law has now undergone surgery and is doing well.
In 2011, I found out that my good friend, Catherine,
had been diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer. She’s one year older than me and
our kids are the same ages. When we both lived in California, we were neighbors
and became fast friends—opposites in many ways—which just made it more fun. She’s
Catholic, I’m Mormon. She’s Mexican, I’m Caucasian. I’m tall, she’s short. She’s
outgoing, I’m quiet. She’s generous, I’m a bit stingy. I hadn’t seen Catherine
for about ten years since I moved to Utah and she moved to Illinois. When I
found out that she had been diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer (from
Facebook, of course!), I joined her blog and read her updates each day as she
went through radiation, chemo, radical surgery, and then reconstruction.
Catherine has always been the kind of friend I wished I could be. And reading
about her ups, and very very low downs, and how this illness affected her
children, her marriage, and all things physical made me realize how grateful I
was for her. For our friendship so many years ago, and how, even today, she
gives me strength and courage without even knowing it.
As a second grader, I lived in Egypt and attended
the Cairo American College. My parents had good friends—another Utah family—and
they had a daughter about my age. Nicole and I became inseparable buddies, and
even after we both moved back to Utah, we spent weekends together up until our
teenage years. Nicole was probably my most highly creative friend and was
always coming up with new things to do. She had a contagious laugh and was
spontaneous and enjoyed life. In her early 20’s Nicole was diagnosed with
breast cancer. Her story was covered by the media, since it was unusual for a
woman her age to suffer from this type of cancer. She has now beat breast cancer
three times. Nicole continues to be upbeat, positive, and stays crazy-busy with
her successful swimsuit company she co-owns with her two sisters. As of this
blog post, Nicole’s older sister is currently fighting ovarian cancer. And
Nicole is back at it again—encouraging, supporting, and loving as only she can
do. A hero in my eyes.
My 15 year old daughter is a volleyball
fanatic/player. When she tried out for the high school team this past August,
her coaches held a parents meeting. The varsity coach, who was 8.5 months
pregnant said, “You better not miss practice unless you have a really good
excuse. I’m only missing two days when I have my baby, and the JV coach came to
practice even during chemo.” The JV coach, Angie, had indeed coached through
her breast cancer treatment. In 2008, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and
led a valiant fight for the next year. Watching her coach my daughter for the
past three years, I’ve learned a few things about diligence, hard work, endurance,
and persistence. Angie is all of these and more, and another hero to me.
To my friends, and all others out there who are
facing breast cancer or any other cancer, know that you have my admiration and
more importantly my prayers. I am truly amazed by the human spirit I see around
me and the fortitude of those who face breast cancer—I feel as if I’m taught every
day.
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