Somewhere in the world tomorrow, a woman will discover a lump in her breast.
Somewhere in the world tomorrow, a woman will undergo a biopsy.
Somewhere in the world tomorrow, a woman will hear her doctor say: It’s cancer. Likely, everything the doctor says after that will be a blur.
Somewhere in the world tomorrow, a woman will shave her head so she doesn’t have to watch her hair fall out.
Somewhere in the world tomorrow, a woman will start chemotherapy treatments.
Tomorrow, in a very specific spot on the globe, a dear friend of mine will undergo a double mastectomy in order to rid her body of this disease.
She’s the kind of mom who spends hours on the floor with her kids, building with playdough or reading books.
She’s the kind of wife who supports her husband, even when it means he has to pack his bags and travel to other countries for work.
She’s the kind of neighbor who makes four-course meals for her friends when they’ve just had babies and can’t possibly conjure up the energy to cook for themselves.
She’s the best kind of person, and I’m honored to call her my friend.
Please send your prayers for her into the universe. I know those prayers will find their way to her little spot on the globe. I can’t do much for her from over here in China, but I can pray. And right now I’m praying that she emerges from this surgery healthy, strong and cancer-free.