January 2015
A woman named Grace said, "Hi, Kristina" to me on our walk up to the church this morning. Grace is a pediatrician; her daughter just graduated from Lewis and Clark College in Portland last spring. Her husband, Joel, is also a doctor and attends fellowship with her every Sunday. He is the choir director of the church, in fact, and plays percussion with the Sequim City Band, where Grace plays oboe and flute. I often see Grace riding her bike. She is a fit, strong woman. They are wonderful people. I was delighted when Grace said hi to me, and I said hi back.
Which is why it was so alarming to hear Grace light a candle of sorrow at the service and announce that she has breast cancer. The doctor has breast cancer! What has this world come to?
The most ironic of this news is that a few weeks ago the fellowship hall was decorated with plastic mannequins of women's bodies painted and accessorized with statements, celebrating the female body. It payed a special attention to the issue of the breast cancer epidemic. It was Grace's idea. Grace made her own: it was covered with all the reasons she doesn't need breast cancer. Most were jocular notions, like "I like my body the way it is" or "chemo is not all it's cracked up to be." It had a playful undertone, almost mocking. No one knew it would become a reality.
If only I'd known when she said hi to me earlier that day; to think I was saying hello to a person living with breast cancer. I also saw her yesterday when Joel was in Olympic Theater Arts' production of Twelfth Night by Shakespeare. I had no suspicion. No idea.
This news tempts to destroy my faith that cancer is not a random, inevitable thing. I trust that cancer is caused by things and can be prevented. But this makes me so scared. Of all people. Why Grace??