mission hills, san diego

Archive of a Breast Cancer Survivor


survivor book

Even at the Park
Today I met a young woman with thyroid cancer. I was at the park with Darren and the dogs, and a small dachshund named Betsy ran to us floppy-eared, sweet. Betsy was more concerned with dog socializing than being a therapy dog to her owner, Heather, at least that is what Heather said. With a scar across the base of her throat she explained she had thyroid cancer, had two operations to remove lymph nodes and had been through radiation. The last 1.5 years of her life have been nothing but this. And with deep knowledge and understanding of Heather’s tired life, I nodded. She called us sisters. Sisters of Cancer. And I felt touched because it was true. We were sisters, two strangers who had met to have an exchange of experiences, to shake hands and acknowledge each other. It was no coincidence we met. It was simply a positive confirmation of our lives, accumulated and bright like the green grass gathered moist and soft under the shade of a lovely tree.

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