I first met Janna when she interviewed me for the job at the OBGYN office. I remember thinking she was just about the most bubbly and sunshiny person I'd ever met. After I got the job, I remember thinking that both joy and misery were contagious. She made that office joyful. And we caught it. It was about 9 months later that she had the mass in her stomach checked and found the cancer. A baby friendship really. But 9 months is all you need to grow a human, and it was certainly enough time to solidify a deep rooted friendship. It's been about 7 months since she was diagnosed. A lot has happened. Surgery, chemo, triumphs and sorrow. She is still as joyful as the day I met her. I have come to know and love her family. Her children are here sometimes and I can see the influence of the their mother in the squeals and shrieks of happiness. We moved to Cedar on a whim. There was no concrete reason to move here. No family, no friends, and no job. Over the last nearly two years I have developed friendships that have changed me, opportunities that scare me, and a love for this town I now call my home. Janna is a huge anchor for me here. I know she is one of the reasons we were led here. Not because she needed me, she would be just as successful in her journey without me. But because the Lord knew we needed each other. She and I have often acknowledged the feeling that we are only carrying on a friendship developed long before this earth life. I believe it too.
Friday, May 20, 2016
Shaved
It's been about 6 weeks since Janna found out that the chemo she's been using to battle her cancer wasn't working as they expected. It seemed as though this was nearly as big a blow to her as the initial diagnosis. This time, with the new chemo, she'd be losing her hair. From the beginning I was on board with shaving my head in support of her. And I'll admit, I was slightly relieved when I found out that the chemo they were using wasn't going to cause her to lose her hair. Now, 6+ months later, a new chemo and she was facing yet another reality of cancers harsh impacts. So, she got to work planning her head shaving party. Yup, she put her joyful Janna spin on a crappy situation. The invitation extended across social media and throughout her closest friends and family. Dozens came to shave heads in support of her. Men going bald, and women shaving the back of the hair. It was quite a sight. It was raining and cold, they put up canopies and smiles were in abundance. Jan and I went first. James shaved hers, while Jason shaved mine. I wondered how my emotions would fare, but we just giggled and laughed through the process.
The week following, Janna struggled. I imagine the realities of cancer hit hard each time she looked in the mirror. I know it affected me deeply. I was a wreck leading up to that day, and the following week. It didn't take long for her to pull herself up and out of the shadows of sadness and thank her Heavenly Father for the time she has been given. She said, "I realized, if I had to give up my hair to spend more time with my family, I would gladly do it".
It's been a unique experience for me. I'm not ill, I'm not fighting for my life. But I have no hair. I'm a pretty confident person, but walking into church, school, stores without hair for the first week or so was intimidating. It was akin to walking into those places naked. The response of strangers was neat. Some glanced so quickly as to not stare, some responded with warm and sympathetic looks, I even had one kid point and loudly say, " haha! Mom! That lady is bald! hahahaha! She has no hair!"
The very next day after we shaved our heads was Sunday. Church. I was fine all the way into the building. Until I had to walk through the chapel. I stopped. Physically frozen realizing the people in there would respond. Until very clearly the thought came to me, I am uncomfortable. That's the maximum. This wasn't hard. This wasn't up there with any of the hard things I have done in my life. I was merely uncomfortable. And the thought that followed was, this place is safe. These people love me. Support me. And they did. And they do. I am grateful. And I kind of love not having hair.
