the pit of my stomach

I know that we can all say, at some point in our lives, “I have this amazing friend.” My life’s crazy journey crossed the path of another; that I will forever be thanking whom ever I need to for the rest of my life for. Today I cast aside all others and say that no one compares to my friend Colette. And I have some pretty amazing friends! (so temporary apologies to the rest)

On April 6th, Colette got that call that none of us want to get or deserve to get. You have breast cancer. From that moment she went into survival mode like no one I know. (previous post)

On April 17th, with a bottle of wine and the amazing Brenda at Mosiac, Colette, Melissa and I got our haircut and celebrated after with yummy food in The Pearl.

On May 5th she had her first chemo treatment and 4 days later we all walked in the American Cancer Society Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk.

Coco & Mel

May 21st a second cut.

May 24th, “Ladies, today is the day… No more hair… Michael shaved the rest of it off! I’ve got a beautiful scarf on, shades and a little sad smile…” And I know that sad little smile won’t last too long or that she will allow herself to let many see it. She might.

It makes the pit of my stomach feel that feeling that is so hard to describe. It’s not empty, it’s not turning, it’s up near my throat. It feels like your arm or leg just after it starts to wake up from being asleep from prolonged unusual pressure, heavy.

I’ve never considered myself a strong person. Although, I do think people think I’m tough. I just am really good at the mask maybe? I don’t know what makes me that way, somewhat closed off? I’ve been amazingly lucky with family and friends to love. With Colette and her family it’s no exception. Her strength carries us all. How will I ever repay her for her friendship?


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