Cancer Causes Hugs

*
As I was standing in line at the hospital waiting to pay for my parking, the woman in front of me turns around with a big smile on her face and excitedly tells me, “this is my last time here, I am cancer free.”  Tears of happiness for her welled up in my eyes as I replied, “Oh my god, that is so great. Congratulations.”  We started talking about our situations and what we’ve gone through, both so young.  Me, ten months of chemo and a lifetime of treatment ahead.  Her,  a double mastectomy, radiation, chemotherapy.



We walked outside to wait for our cars and continued to chit chat. We compared all our nasty side effects of chemo, other patients nearby grunting in agreement.  As we finished commiserating a man next to us in a wheelchair looked up at us and said, “but isn’t it a beautiful day?” and we couldn’t argue with him on that.

Our cars came and we wished each other well.  Courtney and I hugged, as if we were old friends.  I hope wherever she is, she lives long and well and cancer free.

*
A few days later, I was messing up the self check out at BJ’s with my friend Melissa when an employee approached me.  She got close to me and asked, “Are you going through something?”  I was confused.  I started running through my life in my head. Marriage, good.  Work, good.  Friends, good.  What was she talking about?  My face must have shown my confusion because she followed with, “breast cancer?”

“Oh yes” I laughed.  How could I forget?  She admitted that she too was being treated for breast cancer and was wearing a wig.  As we started talking we discovered we both have stage IV triple negative breast cancer and are being treated at the same hospital by the same doctor.  It was such an unlikely coincidence.  We finished our chat, wished each other well, and hugged goodbye.

*
Things like this happen to me often; a survivor, patient, or family member of a patient will approach me.  Sometimes it turns into a full conversation; sometimes it’s just a survivor showing me her port scar, letting me know I’m not alone.  I can see how some patients might be thoroughly annoyed by this, but I don’t mind it.

Hugs happen frequently with these encounters; hugging strangers like they are family. Before cancer I would’ve never done that.  My immune system is weak from all the chemo so I’ve learned to hold my breath and turn my face when I get hugs.  I know that I can provide some comfort to another patient that she is not alone.  I can provide a patient’s family member hope and they can provide me with hope too.  A survivor provides me with comfort.  I am not alone. We are not alone.  Survivors are out there.  Patients are out there.  We are fighting together, hugging each other.

Hugs, yet another side effect of cancer.