Getting whopped with a cancer diagnosis isn't so bad when you have so many people there waiting to catch you when it all gets a bit overwhelming and even more there to help build you right back up after you've fallen. My nausea is no match for a surprise visit from the most energetic woman I know, Judy, complete with pints of ice cream, some personal singing performances and oodles of good, old-fashioned Broadway musicals on VHS for me to watch and sing along to.
My fatigue fades when our oh-so-caring neighbors pop over with trays of stuffed shells, salad and lemonade for dinner enjoying shared stories with them and their kids (the cutest kids EVER), watching our hurricane photos on a slideshow and playing with dry ice over creamy ice creams with chocolate sauce. Who'd ever think that my car smashed into their garage on its own accord the second day in the neighborhood? That's what you call forgiveness.
And the influx of heartfelt e-mails, Facebook messages, voicemails, chatting sessions, surprise packages, frozen meals, flowers and get well/kick cancer in the ass cards have each touched me in ways I can't get into words. I've always treasured those close to me, but the power of the human connection is more real than ever to me now. I think that realization has been the greatest gift of all. How could I be so lucky? It gives me an even greater zest for life and a determination for beating this so that I can spend the rest of my life giving back to all those who helped me through and those that I haven't even met yet.