A friend of mine with breast cancer just sent out an update e-mail to friends and family. She began her message with an apology for her recent lack of communication. But she assured us all that she's been out of the loop not because she's felt sick or tired. It's because she's been too busy with normal life. And that's a good thing, she says.This friend wasn't so sure how she would fare -- both physically and emotionally -- when she was first diagnosed with cancer. But she seems to have done a champion's job of rolling with the punches. Sure, she's had ups and downs. But she is overwhelmingly positive and hopeful. And jumping off my computer screen as I read her e-mail were at least seven bits of hope that tell me she is doing just fine despite all that is unbelievably hard about breast cancer.
My friend just had her first infusion of Taxol. A breeze, she calls it. One. So easy on her body -- two -- that she headed right out and took her daughter communion dress shopping. Her little love looked beautiful, she wrote. Like a mini-bride. The mother of the mini-bride then -- three -- turned a sad moment into a comforting one when her daughter asked, "Mommy, who do you think will bring me wedding dress shopping?"
"Me of course, why?" responded my friend.
"Well, you know, if that thing that we don't want to happen happens and you die, then who would bring me wedding dress shopping?" this little girl asked her mom.
Holding back tears, mom reassured daughter she would definitely be the one taking her wedding dress shopping. She'd be dancing at her wedding too, she declared.
My friend also shared in her correspondence -- four -- that she plans to walk, and maybe run, in her local American Cancer Society Relay for Life event in April. And she has already rallied a bunch of support -- five -- and is thrilled to have a group of co-workers, and even the principal at her school, forming a team in her honor.
"I am so lucky to have such a wonderful school family," wrote my friend who plans to raise oodles of hope -- six -- when she begins collecting funds for Relay for Life.
What inspires me most about my friend's e-mail is the light and happy manner in which she spouts off all the good in her life -- seven -- when there is so much at this very moment that is downright difficult, like entire days spent in an infusion room, plummeting red blood cells, aching bones and joints, and tingly fingers and toes.
I think my friend knows this phase of her life is temporary, that she will overcome all obstacles, that she will really fare just fine both physically and mentally throughout this ordeal. And this must be what powers her through the days she amazingly calls -- normal.
"Well, you know, if that thing that we don't want to happen happens and you die, then who would bring me wedding dress shopping?" this little girl asked her mom.
Holding back tears, mom reassured daughter she would definitely be the one taking her wedding dress shopping. She'd be dancing at her wedding too, she declared.
My friend also shared in her correspondence -- four -- that she plans to walk, and maybe run, in her local American Cancer Society Relay for Life event in April. And she has already rallied a bunch of support -- five -- and is thrilled to have a group of co-workers, and even the principal at her school, forming a team in her honor.
"I am so lucky to have such a wonderful school family," wrote my friend who plans to raise oodles of hope -- six -- when she begins collecting funds for Relay for Life.
What inspires me most about my friend's e-mail is the light and happy manner in which she spouts off all the good in her life -- seven -- when there is so much at this very moment that is downright difficult, like entire days spent in an infusion room, plummeting red blood cells, aching bones and joints, and tingly fingers and toes.
I think my friend knows this phase of her life is temporary, that she will overcome all obstacles, that she will really fare just fine both physically and mentally throughout this ordeal. And this must be what powers her through the days she amazingly calls -- normal.
The story I am about to tell you is horrific and gathered from various news accounts of the event that have been published over the months since it happened. 
