It all started six years ago today; and my gratitude will never fade.

Today is September 13, 2020. Six years ago, I woke up feeling not-so-great. It turns out, despite my protests that "I think I am fine!" I was not.

At 29, I was the youngest and smallest girl with the biggest tumor that my doctors had seen.*

Two weeks later, they took the tumor out and after six weeks of recovery, all seemed well. 

I recovered from surgery with so much love and support. It was truly amazing. I can barely express the amazing love that I felt, and how I will always hold on to that feeling. No matter how much difficulty I have experienced. No matter how much loss I have had. No matter how many times I reflect on part of my life with "That was not ok and completely unfair." I know that I am loved. I am so lucky to know that.

This post is to say that I continue to be grateful for all of those people who helped me during that time. It was so, so, so scary. Without you, it would have been much too dark to imagine. I will shout out to my grad school buds who rallied in ways that are nearly unimaginable now. From the organizational skills and emotional power of CVD and Jamie, to Kelly's one-day round-trip flight to swoop in and carry me home. From Nancy's daily visits, and Dad's perfectly timed visit when I was alone (for, like, the first time of course) and then needed to be whisked away to have part of my intestine pulled out of the stitches (super-fun, guys! Highly recommend it!). And Lori taking me for a pre-surgery haircut--self-care in all forms. Chris coming from Georgia (and his head of school allowing it) so that he could care for me on the night shifts in the hospital. Lanie coming to stay with me while Kels and Rico go on a date and a break from round-the-clock care. The insurmountable hospitality of my sister and brother-in-law who hosted me and whoever showed up at any moment. The love of my UVa buds. All the visits from everyone. All the cards and packages. All the everything. I know I have missed something or someone somewhere because I can't begin to list it all. Seriously. Every bit of it was helpful and healing, and, most importantly, helps me get through where I am now. 

Because of what you all did then, it helps me manage where I am now. While none of this is easy, (truly, not one dang thing-- and I so dearly want something to be easy!) I am strengthened by knowing that if I needed help like I did before, you would be there. 

Friends frequently ask me if there is anything that they can do to help. I don't know if there is. What I want the most is for Chris to be able to hold my hand when I have infusions; because right now he can't. Covid makes everything worse, and it is already hard. The only thing I can ask right now is to make sure that you wear masks and sanitize so that covid-19 goes away.  

I want to thank you for all that you have done to make my life better by listening and loving me and, most of all, by being kind to Chris who is doing most of the taking-care-of-me. 

*Right, so just a little explanation for what seems like hyperbole: My doctors were urologic surgeons, and this is kidney cancer. Their typical patient is a 60+ year old overweight male with a history of drinking and smoking. Therefore, being female is unusual (but not totally wild); being under 30 was crazy; and then apparently weighing ~125lbs or so was a HUGE shocker! Dr. Patel could not help himself with exclaiming how small I was (HA! if he could see me now! I am much smaller than I was even at the time of surgery.) And, of course, my tumor was pretty massive-- I don't know how big these tumors usually are by the time someone takes it out, but mine took up most of my left side, pushing my stomach out of the way and consuming my 2/3 of my left kidney; and they seemed to make a pretty big deal about it.