Brave and Crazy

This is a picture of my wrist with a breast cancer bracelet on it. And I'm not taking it off until my friend Janice is declared officially cancer free.

She had a mastectomy last week, as well as removal of every lymph node they could find on the left side of her body, after what I can only assume is a typical whirlwind experience for those diagnosed with breast cancer. One day, a lump. The next, tests and doctor's appointments and surgeries scheduled and wig shopping and web pages created to organize the army of help she'll need to tend to her 5 and 8-year-old daughters.

Forget for a moment the fact that her husband left her less than two years ago. And forget the fact that the reason he left is basically that one of her daughters is a blond, beautiful angel who happens to have Down's Syndrome (and a host of health problems related to it), requiring a great deal of extra care.

Yes, forgetting all of that for a moment, I'm still left with a mind-numbing bewilderment at the brutal unfairness of the universe.

Her pathology report should come in tomorrow, giving us the complete test results and status of her cancer. Whatever stage, whatever the prognosis, she's more mentally tough and positive and brave than I could ever hope to be. Spending the day with her earlier this week to help care for her post-surgery was just a peek into the road ahead, I'm sure. Chemo and radiation ain't pretty.

But I've got my money on Jan. And I'm not getting too attached to my new bracelet. It'll be a great day when I can hurl it into the dumpster.