To the stranger at the cancer resource center today

Dear lady,

I saw you perusing the bookshelves in the breast cancer section; you picked up titles, sighed, put them back. You wore your bald head like a warrior, clearly visible despite the baseball cap covering the top. You looked up at me, giving me space to find my own reading material, and when our eyes met, I saw a lot of pain. You said, "Surely there is something here to help me through a bad day!" and I took a chance, and decided that *I* was the answer, not the books.

"Look in my eyes, " I said, "and you will see yourself in a year. Look at me! Look at my hair - sensible mom hair that I enjoy complaining about - and know that this time next year, you, too will have hair. Look in my eyes: do you see the life there? Do you see how I'm running all over the place, busy with the everyday, despite the fact that I'm here? Do you see my new, strong body? This week, this body took me running 4 times already, and this weekend it will carry me through my first 10k in years. Look in my eyes! You will be like this next year. You will get your life back. You will become busy with the mundane of life, as well as the joys of life. You will still come back to this building, you will still be a woman with a history of breast cancer, but it will not take over your every minute. Look at me, and see yourself. You can do this!"

Last year, I was the bald lady, living from one treatment to the next, and so, so, so scared. This year, I am so much stronger, healthier, and more optimistic. I have bad days, but they are only days...and the rest of the time I spend doing all the things that I wish to do in my life (plus a million chores and errands). My hair has returned; my energy has returned; even my breasts are returning (one surgery at a time!).

You looked at me and cried, gasping "Thank you" and I hugged you - a total stranger - and hoped that some of my strength could pass to you. I hope I didn't cross too many boundaries, but I wanted so much to give you hope, and to let you feel the strength that is mine that will soon be yours again.

Sweet lady, whoever you are, you are in my thoughts and prayers today. I hope that I see you next year, waiting for your annual appointment, a twinkle in your eye and impatience in your feet to get going, to leave the doctor, to go about the business of truly living, and not just of staying alive.

There is a long way between the pain of diagnosis and the heat of treatment to where I am now. There IS another side, and I hope to see you come join me on it soon. Hang in there, sister. You can do this!

Love,
Kristina (the stranger in the breast cancer section of the cancer resource center today)