I won't lie; Wednesday was an incredibly rough day. I battled my insurance (it's crazy fighting cancer AND my insurance) and found out I needed two surgeries instead of one.
My doctor called to say he could do the first surgery in two days, and although I acted tough on the phone, I cried after we hung up. It's just that sometimes this whole journey feels like a never-ending rollercoaster. I'm buckled in tight, and—when I'm at my weakest—I just want to get off the ride.
I received another call shortly after this. "Elisa, you have appointments in Utah over the next couple days. We have a room available if you'd like to take it."
"This is the best news!" I dried my eyes. "You have no idea how much this makes people's lives easier."
"Ma'am," she said, "are you doing okay today?"
It seemed like such a long time since someone genuinely asked how I'm doing. "Well, today was my kids' first day of school. I got to send them off, but I won't be there when they get home. It honestly breaks my heart, and sometimes… this journey with cancer just feels undoable." I sighed. "I hope that you're having a nice day?" I asked.
"Me?" She laughed. "I'm great." After a moment, she continued. "I hear what you're saying about the first day of school though. I have kids, and that would be hard to miss. I want you to know that you are strong. And you've got this, mama!"
I'm not sure why, but her words cheered me so much. After getting into my car, I told myself to find the good around me. Sure two surgeries loomed in the future, but there was so much goodness surrounding me—like patient housing and the amazing woman who'd just spoken with me on the phone.
I drove toward patient housing, and that's when I spotted Dirk's Dry Cleaning. I suddenly wondered who Dirk was and what his family was like. Had he always wanted to own a dry-cleaning business? Had he fulfilled all of his hopes and dreams? Was he still running the company? I know some might find it trite, but each of us really is the main character in our own story. We can do all of these incredible things and too often we take it for granted. I was the prime example. I could've been enjoying life that very moment, but instead I'd let fear about the future nearly drown me.
So, still thinking about Dirk and all of us, I decided to treat myself to a Jamba Juice.
"When I was in high school—over twenty years ago—you had a drink with 'peach' in the name?" I asked the cashier. As a teenager, I'd had a surgery, and I still remember how my mom and dad splurged and bought me a fancy drink. I felt so loved. In fact, every time I have anything that even remotely tastes like peaches, I remember how wonderful my parents are.
The boy typed something into his computer. "It's not on our menu anymore, but I found it. It's called a Peach Passion."
"That's it!" I said, feeling better and better.
So after getting my drink, I went to patient housing, drank my Jamba Juice, and called my kids to see how their first day of school was.
"I'm so sorry I'm not there in person," I told them.
"Mama," Indy said, "I knew you were thinking about me so much, it felt like you were with me the whole day."
Her words meant the world to me. That's when I knew I could get through the surgeries—hell, I could get through ANYTHING… as long as I got more time with the people I love.
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