At happy hour I ordered a mojito from a young, attractive female bartender. She asked for my ID and after reviewing it, handed it back to me and said, "This looks nothing like you." I paused for a moment and said, "I know, right? But this fake ID's been working for years." She gave me a stupid laugh and went to make my drink.
Walking to my car at Reston Hospital after just having had my sixteenth radiation treatment, an old woman parked next to me in a handicap spot was getting something out of her passenger seat. She said, "You sure do walk well in those heels for being handicapped." I unlocked my door and thought for a moment about what she was implying. I turned to face her; she wouldn't look me in the eye. I said, "I have cancer." Still not looking at me, she closed her door and locked it. She started shaking her head back and forth in disgust and said under her breath, "It's a shame they give handicap spots to people who are sick." I refrained from physically hurting the woman. As she wobbled off I said, "You are rude and ignorant. I hope you don't ever have to endure what I did these last seven months." She continued up the path still shaking her head. I choked back the tears as the anger boiled inside my stomach.
Shopping with my mother at Banana Republic we quickly acquired a rockstar sales woman. She continued taking my handfuls of clothes to the dressing room and helped pick out items she thought would look cute on me. I explained that any dress or top with a built in band under the bust would not work for me since I was still under construction and not at my final size yet. As I continued browsing the gorgeous fall clothes, my mom shared with the woman that I had breast cancer. I am not sure exactly what their conversation entailed, but when I turned around the woman looked at me completely different. She asked if she could hug me and I agreed. I could feel her chest convulsing against mine … she was trying not to cry.
At the check out line at Harris Teeter I purchased a ton of fruits and vegetables to start my 10-day detox regimen. The young man scanning my groceries was pimple-faced with a head covered in dread locks. As I was paying for my organic selections the boy asked, "Are you a hippie?" I tried not to laugh and responded as serious as I could with, "Yep, I sure am." He said, "Righteous." I barely held myself together and upon leaving I turned to the boy, threw a peace sign and said "Make love, not war." He responded just as I expected … with a peace sign. Righteous!
Finishing my treatment I clinched the hospital gown at my waist and headed back to the changing room. I hadn't noticed the woman sitting in the chair. She said, "Oh, I was hoping I would get to see you today." This woman (whose name I do not know) has treatment right after me, so sometimes our paths cross. I noticed she wasn't wearing her wig today, although most of us don't when we are being treated. Her blonde, fuzzy hair stood about a half-inch off her head and went beautifully with her porcelain skin and rosy cheeks. She looked at me with such conviction and said, "I want you to know that you gave me the courage to go without my wig today. It's certainly not as long or thick as yours and because it is so light I still look bald." I was stunned and truly touched. I sat down in the chair next to her and said, "I am so proud of you. What happened to us isn't our fault and you shouldn't be ashamed of it. You are absolutely stunning." Her eyes were swelling. I smirked a bit and asked, "Do you know what the best part is? You don't have to worry about the rain messing it up." She laughed and instantly the mood was lightened. The technician came back to get her and we said our goodbyes. I stood in the changing room and cried.
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