Allie-b, and other stories of heroic friendship

There are things you can't wait for others to know: your child took her first steps or said his first word, you've just gotten the transfer to the Fiji office, you've experienced excellent customer service at the DMV, or even more amazingly, you've just been told "I love you" and this time it's real. Sadly, finding the right time to tell your friends that you have breast cancer ranks somewhere between a triple root canal without anesthesia and pulling out your own toe nails with hot pliers. If I could schedule this, it'd go under NEVER.

But part of being strong is surrendering yourself to others when you need support. And though I had been stoic about the diagnosis and clinical in my approach, I started feeling the weight of my disease. So I compiled a contact list and went to it.

The first time I blurted out the words "I have breast cancer" I was standing in the middle of a parking lot listening to the steady flow of cars on the highway behind us, and a noisy group of teenagers three cars down. Next was a restaurant, then my car, a conference room, the gardens outside my office building, a street in the middle of the Inner Sunset, a softball field, various doctors' offices, an elementary school parking lot near my house, a cafe, the Target parking lot, my kitchen and my couch (and others I am sure I'm forgetting).

This had essentially become my personal cancer announcement tour of the Bay Area. Scenic vistas--did I mention the bank's parking lot?--private conversations shared in public spaces, shock, sighs, tears and some laughter...but mostly sorrow and disbelief followed by fighting words and love, sheer love. I gave into it, and took it all in--call by call, email after email, one conversation followed by hugs after the next. I must confess I didn't realize just how loved I am. And I wondered why that is. Why don't we tell these things to each other more often? Why does it take a deadly diagnosis to verbalize our feelings? There is no perfect time, just life and it's so easy to underestimate its speed.

It's hard to single out any one of these conversations, as they have all been joyous and painful in their own way; but I'd like to share Allie's response as an example of the caliber of friends who've become my extended family--and on whose shoulders I'll be carried to remission.

The first time I met Allie she was hurriedly carrying boxes up three flights of stairs to her room in Long Portal, Brown College UVA. It was September and naturally it was 100 million degrees with 110% humidity in Charlottesville just for move-in day. She was a spirited 3rd year (that means junior for all you non-wahoos), in charge of pretty much everything as far as I could tell.

We became fast friends after we discovered a mutual love for Annie DiFranco--which she played non-stop for approximately a WHOLE year--wine, and wacky outings like the time we dressed up as ninjas, crashed a party to sing happy birthday to some girl, and then almost got arrested at the 7-11 when we came through the door totting fake guns and face paint. Allie's also been witness to the total annihilation of a manual transmission--the thing literally fell out of the car--and Ganesha drinking milk. (Look, I couldn't make this stuff up even if I tried.)

To complete the picture I should mention that Allie has two master degrees, is currently pursuing a doctorate, spent two years in Africa for the Peace Corp, has an amazing sense of humor, loves cheese quesadillas, and basically lives on Coca-Cola Classic, bagels and pizza. She also started going out with her now husband at a party I threw :)

But enough background. I had tried to contact Allie for a week and after a couple of messages she wrote an email from Montana telling me she was on vacation. She could tell something was up, but I didn't want to ruin her cross-country traverse so I filled her in on my Dublin trip and convinced her there was no emergency, though I did ask her to call me when she got back to NYC. We played phone tag for a bit, and after a couple more messages Allie knew something was definitely up--after all, I NEVER call her at 9 am on a Saturday (my time).

I was hopelessly lost in the Inner Sunset when I looked down at the phone and saw Allie's name flash on the screen. Crap! I have to take this. I pulled over in the next street, parked the car in a red zone, and actually engaged in conversation after feeling for my phone under the seat where it fell after a sharp turn. Allie was thankfully still on the line. After I caught my breath, I laid the news on her...no preamble, I think I didn't even ask about her trip.

In true Allie fashion, she immediately went into emergency mode, asked key questions to assess the situation, offered me her (and her husband's) life savings, and wanted to get on the next plane to SFO. God I love that woman! Most importantly, she agreed to be my medical proxy and execute my medical wishes should something go wrong. I wasn't shocked. This was Allie, in her truest form...the same kick-ass girl I'd met in my dorm over 10 years earlier. I know she immediately got on the computer and pulled every last article, study, pamphlet, and footnote about California laws, my type of cancer and its treatment protocol.

And so the announcements went, each response amazing in its own way--especially from my inner circle. From flowers to cards, hugs, offers to shave their head and sperm donations for the necessary pre-chemotherapy embryo harvesting. What else could a girl ask for?