Friday is Maria’s last day of chemo.
We aren’t celebrating quite yet, though. While Maria’s prognosis is good (excellent, even), there are still five weeks of daily radiation treatments to undergo and side effects to wear off before we’ll all be toasting her health and her healthy rack.
“You know, you’re going to have one drink and be on your ass.” I’m leaning on my elbows, having an end of day chat. Maria won’t be coming to happy hour tonight, for obvious reasons.
“I know it,” she laughs. “Did I tell you? I tried to have a drink of champagne at my girlfriend’s birthday, and it burned. Oh my god how it burned!”
Sensitivity to heat, smells and flavors are just a few of the side effects of this second round of treatments.
“What if you stay like that forever?” My eyes widen with Maria’s at the thought. “What if you can’t drink? You’d be… You’d be Mormon!”
“Oh God!”
“Amen.”
When she was first diagnosed with breast cancer, Maria and I weren’t all that close. She was new and we were… polite. Even then, though, I liked her very much. And while I couldn’t empathize completely, I’d had my own scares and a in a small way, my own experience with her situation. And I knew about the needle.
“Oh my god, isn’t it awful?” Maria had winced when I brought it up and gingerly touched her breast, as though it were still sore at the site.
“By the second biopsy, I was willing to sell my future firstborn to the nurse, or to the devil – I didn’t care – just to avoid the needle.”
There are some relationships that require a great deal of time spent before any real intimacies are shared. And then there are some, like mine and Maria’s, that spring out of those intimacies. In a way, her disease has been a catalyst for our friendship.
Now it’s, “Hey, Ma. Can I borrow your stapler?” It’s a truckload of handmade chocolate suckers on my birthday. It’s me, first thing Monday mornings, starting off with, “You will die when I tell you this.” It’s her, making sure I have an umbrella or a jacket (if the weather requires), and always, always something to eat.
It’s also an, “Oh jeez. Can I punch her?” when I make one too many bad jokes about wiggin’ out. Hers, by the way, is phenomenal.
Maria is an exceptional person. Throughout these last months of her ordeal – the worry, the pain and post-chemo nausea – I have never caught her in a moment of self pity. But she’s not inhuman about her experience either. She’s honest about weeping through a particularly frightening procedure, about what it’s like to feel not at all yourself because of the chemicals in your system. And about being thankful to be one of the lucky ones. One of the lucky ones who worries about permanent scars.
Understand, if you don’t already, that it does not take a vain woman to worry about the scars. Or to go shopping for eyelashes on the internet because hers have all fallen out into the bathroom sink. Or to hold up a ruler and make guesses as to how much hair will grow back after the last chemo treatment.
Maria hopes to have half an inch by New Year’s Day.
I’m reminded of a phrase we have back home. A month of Sundays,. Simply, it means ‘a long time.’ I realize that October, now come and gone, was Breast Cancer Awareness month. But in our little row of dingy grey cubicles, we haven’t needed a month set aside to remember. Because we have shared Maria’s month of Sundays.
My love to Maria, who inspires me. And my heart to those who share any part of her experience.
oh, have you heard the new melissa ethridge song ‘i run for life’? it’s about breast cancer and it will make you sob your eyes out and feel totally empowered.
Oh Fish. You made me cry and smile at the same time. Thanks so much for sharing your amazing journey with us!
Ahh, Fish!
But in our little row of dingy grey cubicles, we haven’t needed a month set aside to remember. Because we have shared Maria’s month of Sundays.
Yes. Yes, you have.
beautiful and fantastic and moving and heartbreaking and real and humbling and inspiring and perfect. thanks.
beautiful heather….beautiful
Just beautiful Fish. Friendships such as those are somewhat rare, especially at work. Glad you found one. Watching a friend deal with and over-come illness, I don’t know, reminds me of what life is about. It’s a prime example of someone with grace.
It is early morning for me, I can’t help but be awkwardly sappy. Hope you and Maria have a great Tuesday.
one of my best girls is going through that as well. but she hasn’t shed a tear and has been of the “chin up, TIT out” mentality.
i told her, that if she wanted a new rack for her birthday there are easier ways of getting one.
these women we know are just amazing and it makes me very proud that they call me “friend”
Cancer is so limited…
It cannot cripple love,
It cannot shatter hope,
It cannot corrode faith,
It cannot destroy peace,
It cannot kill friendships,
It cannot suppress memories,
It cannot silence courage,
It cannot conquer the spirit,
It cannot steal eternal life.
heather- sometimes you write things that let us into your soul and we get to see something remarkable and caring. All our hearts to Maria and those who share her experience. -gregg
I just starting reading your blog yesterday and was drawn to the events you share and then i read today’s and I have been in your shoes watching someone you care about deal with this dreadful disease. Except it wasn’t a co-worker it was my mother. I can say 6 cancer-free years later, reading your entry brought me right back to the fear and the pain. but i don’t look back anymore, the one thing my mother taught me was to enjoy today and alway look forward. have a great day and tell maria there will be a time when all this will just be a distant memory.
I hadn’t intended to cry this morning. Thanks a lot, Fish. No really, that was beautiful. Good luck to your friend, Maria. She sounds wonderful.
your words are so empowering. thank you for that lift so early in the morning. good luck to maria, what an amazing woman!
My thoughts and love to Maria as well. Though I don’t know her, I feel for her. She is lucky to have a friend like you.
i’ve been holding my mother’s hand this past year as she struggles through stage iv ovarian cancer. i’ve sat down numerous times to write about the joy and sadness but couldn’t. i imagine if i had the guts just to put it all out there what would come out would be similar to what you wrote. thanks for saying what i’ve never found the words for.
my thoughts are with maria
My thoughts are with Maria, and those like her. I hope her prognosis is good and the reality is better than that.
We should all be so lucky to meet someone whose outlook on life is as refreshing and beautiful as Maria’s.
Fish, thank you for sharing this story. It sheds light not on the death, but on the life of breast cancer. Of recovery. And of hope.
Well, didn’t expect to have tears running down my face cheking in on your latest blog…but it’s all good. What a wonderful friendship you have and what blessing it is that you found each other. I will remember Marie and Fish in my prayers and wish you many great sundays ahead. I am sure Maria has just inspired many women who reads this. Really everyone, “Life IS too short.”
I love that you’re writing about this and I’m writing about some guy snoring in my yoga class.
You made me cry….but you also made me think about some very important things today. Bless you and Maria.
jesus this is a nice post. it’s incredible how we embrace people. and it’s calming to know there are really good people out there.
sigh* this was so beautiful, it gave me chills across my neck and along my back and down my arms, and everywhere i can feel.
Very well written and Maria is in my prayers.
here’s to health and healthy racks. that was beautifully written. displays of sheer grace like that are so very inspiring. thank you.
I’m “insensitive” too. I laugh WITH you at cancer and crazy. I can’t say people because it’s likely I am a crazy people. Laugh in the face of fear and you will defeat it. Fear has no power if you face it in whatever way possible. U found that in the midst of my crazy. God Bless therapy and you for sharing your thoughts with the world. Whether I agree or disagree with your thoughts, I respect YOU for being brave. Your critics? COWARDS. If they have so much to say, they can start their own blog.