That Friend

Did you ever have a friend that while you may not speak with her every day, or even every week, when you do finally speak it’s as if not a day has gone past since you last spoke ? You fall effortlessly in to conversation and when you look at the time realize you’ve been talking for quite a while.

Did you ever have a friend that when you call to tell her about a horrifying parenting moment in which you accidentally let your newly rolling over baby roll herself right off of the bed, has you laughing by the end of the call by animatedly sharing a similar story. A story in which her 18 month old son fell down two stairs and bloodied his lip after she let go of his hand for just an instant . “ Don’t beat yourself up,” she says “Accidents happen to the best of us”

And that friend knows you so well, she can gauge your response to things before you respond.

That friend, when she shops with you will give you her honest opinion on the white pants you just put on when tactfully telling you that maybe they aren’t quite right for you. And you trust her and without offense put the white pants back because you know she’s right

A friend that you can say anything to, a friend that just lets you be you

I have that friend and her name is Kay

As Kay and I exchanged emails last week she mentioned that her annual scan was coming up that afternoon. I asked her to promise to call me right after. She promised, even giving me an approximate time she’d call.

When that time came and went I panicked a little but waited.

When my phone finally rang , I picked it up relieved that it was Kay but quickly became close to tears as she told me things hadn’t gone so well. Ater 4 years in remission from lymphoma , this scan, the scan that if clear would have propelled her in to the 5 year mark in which recurrences are considerably less, was not clear .

I searched for just the right words to say and finally just offered to hop in my car and head over to her house that instant.

But she declined, saying that she’d be fine and that her oncologist will schedule a needle biopsy of the questionable lymph nodes but is not yet willing to treat it like cancer until he knows more.

You hang on to those words , not yet treating it like cancer, for dear life and tell her that you’re hopeful and "lets not worry until we know more".

You end that call on a hopeful note.

But secretly you’re scared.

And as you sit here typing these words at this very moment you know Kay is having her biopsy.

You’re praying for her with every fiber of your being and hoping that the results, although they will take a week to come back , will be negative.

And then you end your post, still frightened, but feeling just the slightest bit better that you’ve shared her with your readers and hope that maybe you will have touched something in them to pray, send good health vibes, whatever they think best

so that that friend ,that you love so much will continue to remain cancer free.