I have two incredibly intelligent and personable co-workers who happened to be married. This is the second marriage for both Linda and Bill. All of the children from both previous marriages live with them… six kids in all, I wanna say.
Linda’s 14-year-old son had brain surgery three weeks ago to remove a benign tumor. He’s on the mend and doing well.
Today we got an e-mail: Last week they found out that their 16-year-old daughter, Kathy, has cancer in her leg. She’s scheduled for surgery and has already started chemotherapy.
I don’t know Linda and Bill that well, but I like them a lot and I feel for them… I can only imagine the pain and worry they must be going through.
Last week I finished It’s Not About the Bike: My Journey Back to Life by Lance Armstrong. Lance has won four back-to-back Tours de France. And he’s a cancer survivor. I bought a copy of for Kathy, wrote up a card and gave it to Bill to pass on… I didn’t want Bill to think I was some kind of weirdo, so I told him what I wrote in the card: That I know she can make it. I hope she enjoys the book, that I found it to be the most entertaining and inspirational book I’ve ever read and that she should call me to talk about it when she finishes it.
I also told him that his family is the strongest I’ve ever heard of, that Kathy is part of the right family to beat this thing… and then I started tearing up.
Please tell me that neither Linda, Bill nor Kathy will think I’m a weirdo… I wanted to do something and this was the one thing.
Now I’m exhausted. Time to go home, kiss my husband, go for a run with my doggie, watch Lord of the Rings on DVD and finally, pass out.
