Hope

I sat at chemo with my pals yesterday, eating cupcakes and making jokes with the nurses. My pals were other cancer patients, Kristi and Amy, who are walking the same path I am, struggling with the same disease, the same drugs, the same fears and fatigue, the same uncertain future. We share more than that, though. We share hope. We sit in pleasant harmony, hoping that one day we will be well. And, if that is too much to hope for sometimes, we can still talk about what fun events we have for the weekend. We are well aware of how quickly future plans can be shattered, yet still able to plan. A cruise, a trip to the park, a new knitting project. Hope is planning dinners and birthdays, anniversaries and weddings. Hope is writing these events on the calendar, maybe in pencil, but most times in ink. Hope is imagining being cancer free and chemo free. Hope is painting your nails a bright pink and putting on lip gloss and going into the world with a big smile. We must make an odd picture, 3 women eating cupcakes and laughing, with IV bags hanging by our heads, infusing toxic chemicals. But we are the picture of hope.