Some pretty incredible stories have been short-listed and were released today for voting. Unfortunately my story was not selected and that's fine. There are countless people, not only across Canada but world wide, that have made incredible sacrifices to provide care and support to their loved ones who are dealing with cancer and one person isn't more deserving than the other.
But I didn't want Meta to go unrecognized and decided to share my submission. I am thankful for all that she has done and although I am pretty sure she knows how grateful I am, wanted everyone else to know as well.
Thanks Ron for helping me edit, without losing the sentiment :-)
Magical Mystery
– Fact and Feeling.
What magical mystery
of life transforms a professional acquaintance into a friendship so strong that
you forever see things in a new way?
Cancer!
But only under proper
management…and I don’t mean medical management in a hospital room. I mean world-class,
stadium-sized, festival management, blasting with music, crowded with joy, life,
love and an endless stream of future tomorrow hopes…
I liken my cancer
journey to a Rock ‘n Roll tour, and Meta Murphy has been my Band Manager, my Roadie,
my Groupie…my biggest fan.
Meta is a former
colleague who retired six months before my diagnosis. We were friendly but never did anything
outside of work. The first two weeks after learning I likely had breast cancer,
I lost my mind. I would break down and
cry every few moments. I kept thinking
about Meta and how she was practical, and full of common sense. I wanted to call her and have her shake some
sense into me, but how to reach out to someone I wasn’t very close to and
haven’t spoken with in months?
Predictably (I realize
now), she reached out to me immediately upon learning my diagnosis and we met
one evening. Meta listened and committed to help in any way I needed. I asked her to come to an upcoming
appointment, as it was recommended to have someone take notes. Meta came with me, and she took pages of
notes.
And Meta came to every
single doctor appointment afterwards. We listened together, asked questions, took
notes and compared after each appointment.
When I met with my oncologist
for the first time and received the definitive assessment, Meta and I left
overwhelmed. She hugged me while I
sobbed in the middle of a restaurant.
When I had a fever
after my first chemo, I called Meta late at night to let her I know was going
to the hospital and that I might need a ride home in the morning. She met me in emergency, sporting a face mask
and sat with me until I was admitted at 2 AM.
She visited every day, bringing special food requests (including the
“Contraband McDonalds”)
After each
appointment, Meta would say “You never have to do this (day) again!” Even when
I lost track, Meta reminded me how far I had come and where I was heading.
She knew when I wanted
to talk and when I needed to be left alone. She checked in on me and if it was really cold
or if I was feeling under the weather, would offer to pick up any groceries,
medications, whatever I needed. It pained
her to see me in any pain or discomfort.
The role of
“caregiver” is draining. I have told many that cancer is sometimes harder on
those around the patient. To share consistent empathy and stamina is not
something that everyone can do, but my Meta managed it with grace and
sophistication.
Cancer is horrible, but
I had help seeing past the horror. I saw
a great deal on my “Rock tour” that I pray never to see again, but it blessed
me with a beautiful friendship that will last a lifetime
