Brigid's Cross

Waking up each morning was a chore better left undone to my way of thinking. Every day was spent in nearly the same routine of going to a building and working a job I really didn't enjoy. Being nagged at by a boss I couldn't stand and listening to the constant hum of whispers at break time by co-workers I both didn't know and didn't care about.

My name is Brigid and I am a 23 year old business consultant. I work at City Financial and spend most of my days in a pale colored office cubicle surrounded by black and white stacks of other people's problems. My job is to take them one at a time, research them, and find a solution.

Now you would think that this would be a easy or at least rewarding job. But no. There is nothing easy about it nor is there any sense of reward or even gratitude from those people and businesses that you solve the problems for. I am just another cog in the wheel grinding each and every second away in the never ending clock we mere mortals call life.

That is until today.

Today I had an annual check up with my doctor and she gave me some news which has completely shattered my whole sense of self. She told me that she had found a lump in my right and my left breast during my visit today. They drew up some labs and currently I am sitting on the city bus on my way to visit another doctor whom I was given an emergency referral to across town. His job is going to be to tell me in detail exactly what the lab work and the mammogram reveal. As well as to help me make a plan for moving forward with things based on their findings.

The bus is stopping. I look up. It is my stop. Mechanically I find myself moving and exiting the bus. Before I know it I am sitting in the waiting room waiting for my turn to be called back. There are only two other patients here, both women and both seem to be close to my age.

How can women as young and as healthy as we appear to be, be going through something this horrible? We are too young. I haven't really done anything with my life. Why is this happening?

One by one the other women are called back. I see tears and strain on each of their faces as they leave. Years seem to be added onto them compared to how they looked before going back to the hidden office.

"Brigid Rose!"

Crap. It is my turn to put on twenty years. Standing I take a deep breath and walk back.

The doctor is an older man. Looks to be in his forties. Not bad though for his age. Tall, broad shoulders. Firm handshake, must work out. I glimpse at his shirt. It is drawn tight across his chest. Not due to it being too small, rather due to his physique. Yep, definitely works out. Crap. I am missing some of what he is saying.

"I am sorry. What was that?" I lamely ask him.

He smiles, "I was saying that based on your labs and pictures that was sent over that there is a good chance we can remove the lumps and hopefully get ahead of this. You currently only have the two. Which is the good news. The bad news is that yes you do have breast cancer. And there is a possibility that even with surgery there is a chance we may not get all of it by removing the two visible lumps. My recommendation is to operate and follow that with chemo to ensure we can catch this as early as it is."

Chemo? Operations? Surgery? In one afternoon my boring life suddenly didn't look so drab. I nod to the doctor in agreement of what he had said.

"How soon can we get started on this?" is what I ask surprisingly calm.

He hands me a list of informative pamphlets and gives me some suggestions. I go ahead and schedule everything. Surgery is for two weeks from today and the chemo will begin about a month after that. He says the spacing out is to help ensure I have a chance to heal from the surgery since chemo is often intense on the body.

I thank him and leave. The thought foremost in my brain is, do I look as old as the other women who walked out of his office? I shake my head mentally chiding myself on how lame and petty that is.

I look at my watch as I leave his building, 3:30. Ten minutes before the next bus that will take me home. Not enough time to find some place to eat. So instead I sit and begin glancing through the brochures and flyers he had given me.

Most of them talked about what I was going through, what I will be going through, how to prepare for the operation and the chemo. At the bottom of the stack was one that seemed out of place. Maybe he gave it to me by accident. It is a flyer for a vacation in the Highlands of Scotland. His? No, as I read through it more closely I realize it is advertising a retreat for cancer patients. There is no restrictions based on the type of cancer you have or age or gender. Just a retreat for anyone who is a cancer patient.

Looking it over, it really stuck with me. I re-read it at least three times on the bus home. Without putting to much thought into it I pinned it up where I would be able to look at it first thing in the morning.

I moved about some of my regular routines the rest of the night. And right before going to bed I finally decided to bite the bullet. I called my mom.

"Hi ya darlin!" I could tell by the breathlessness in her voice I had called at an awkward moment. Mentally I wondered which notch on her bedpost this one was and how young. Followed by promptly bleaching my brain for the other images that were quickly coming to my mind based on the other sounds I was hearing over the line.

"If this is a bad time mom I can call you back. Or you can just give me a call when you are um less busy."

"Nonsense honey." A few groans and moans followed by, "I always have time for you. What's up?"

Now really was not the time to tell her I had breast cancer.

"I was wondering if we could meet tomorrow for lunch."

"Sure hon. Our usual place?"

"Yes. Noon. Okay?"

"Sounds good. Bye for now!"

The line blessedly disconnected. I fell back onto my overstuffed couch and wanted to vomit. I hated calling my mom for that exact reason, and found it a relief when my calls to her would go to voicemail instead. I turned on the television and watched some random sitcom about a family and a ghost. After awhile I clicked off and went to bed. The last thing I saw was the flyer for the Scotland trip.

I called into work the next morning. Mentally not having the energy to deal with other people's issues and deal with my over-the-top mother too. Now free for the first half of the day. I went for a walk, cleaned my apartment a bit, and even read a little. I felt wonderful. And then I saw the rest of the flyers on my table where I had left them last night. All my energy flew out of me. I had cancer. Breast cancer. How exactly was I going to tell my mom? How could I tell anyone? Here I was 23 years old, not a long list of names in the social category aside from my mom, and I had breast cancer. Most of the movies I had watched and books I had read all had at least one thing in common. When something this level of tragic occured in the main character's life they always had at least one person who they had an epic connection with. Meanwhile, I had my mother. The woman whose sole purpose in this world seemed to be to sleep her way through life with as many different partners as she possibly could since my father's death ten years ago. And now it looked like she was going to outlive me too.

The alarm on my phone when off. It was time to go face the music one way or the other. An idea occurred to me though before leaving my apartment and I grabbed the retreat flyer off of the wall and took it with me.

"Hi!" I greeted my mother as I saw her at our table at Ralph's, our favorite outside cafe. She stood and hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She looked to be my age even though the reality was that she was twice my age. Healthy exercise will do wonders I mused to myself.

We sat down. "I already ordered for you. Your usual." She said.

"Thank you. Sorry for being a little late. Public transportation." I told her.

She waved her fingers in a "don't worry about it" manner. "So what did you want to talk about? Must be important if you wanted to meet in person."

Taking a deep breath I dug the flyer out of my pocket and pushed it across the table to her. "I was wondering what you would think about going on a trip with me."

The waiter arrived just then with our food and drinks. We thanked him. And I waited anxiously for my mother to put the clues together while I began nibbling on my blt sandwich and sipping my lemon flavored ice water.

She looked it over and at first she started to comment about the mundane aspects of it; when was I going to be able to take time off from work, how much was it going to cost, why now, etc.

I urged her to look at the flyer more closely to see the answers to her questions. Frustratingly, it wasn't' until we were having a fruit and nut salad for dessert that the bottomline hit her. She sat there for a few minutes in stunned silence just staring at me. Then she burst out laughing.

"Okay. Where is the hidden camera? You can not be serious! You can't have breast cancer. Look at you! You are so young." She ranted on a bit longer in much the same thoughts before everything hit home. Then the tears started. I handed her a napkin and paid the bill for the two of us before leading her away from staring eyes. So maybe telling her in public like that wasn't such a good idea.

We walked for a bit until she had calmed down. We had ended up in the park where we sat on a bench for a bit to catch our breath and to try and organize our thoughts. I told her all the same information that I had gotten in the doctor's office. And reassured her with the same things that he had told me too. She insisted on going with me and seeing me through all this. I gave her a hug and thanked her.

I was seeing a side to her I hadn't in years and honestly thought that had died with my father. After a few minutes her phone rang and she drifted off with a quiet hug and a mouthed promise to call me later tonight. I sat there a bit longer. My heart full of unexpected gratitude for my mother.

Later when I was home, I put the flyer down on my desk and turned on my computer. I had intended to only research the trip, but instead found myself emailing them asking questions regarding bringing a non-cancer plus one, if I would still qualify should my treatments and surgery prove successful, cost, and dates. Plus what other requirements they may have.

To my surprise I got a response almost at once. I could definitely bring anyone I wanted to for my plus one. I would definitely still qualify even after treatments. When were my treatments? The cost was $4000 per person which covered everything from flight expenses and hotel rooms to food (even special diets) and of course tours. The only thing not covered was the personal expense of getting passports. The retreat was all year long and depending on the time of year would determine the type of tours we would get to go on. The recommendation for preparing for the trip would be to pack enough outdoor clothing and shoes to last about two weeks, plus at least one fancy dress for the farewell dinner they host at the end of the two weeks.

I was blown away. Yes the trip was expensive, but not unmanageable. And I already had my passport as did my mother. Since I was on the computer I went ahead and forwarded her the information. Even more surprising, she responded back instantly with "sounds good. When do we leave?"

That was all the encouragement that I needed.

The next day before going to work I called the doctor's office and asked his opinion about me going on the trip after my treatments. He thought it would be a wonderful idea and encouraged me to move forward with making plans for it. I asked him when the end of my treatments were scheduled to be and after getting that information from him I went ahead and booked the trip and shared the information with my mother via text while on the bus in to work.

The rest of the day everyone looked at me like I was someone new in the office. Must have been the huge smile I couldn't keep off of my face. I was actually happy! Happy to be there. Happy to be alive. Happy for my mom. And happy for my treatments and the trip.

The next few days went on like this. Finally my boss called me into his office right before lunch break and asked me to close the door.

"I have noticed a big change in you over the last couple of days. Your productivity has gone up, and the energy about you has really brightened up the place. Has there been something different going on with you?"

I did not want any one's pity or sympathy so I just smiled and said, "Yes. I am going on vacation in about a week. I have put in all the requested documents for the time off. Everything came back approved."

"Yes, about that. You say vacation? On here it says that you are going in for medical procedures followed by a two week healing retreat."

"Yes, that is right. Look. I am not looking for special treatment here. I have the time saved up to take the time off without it impacting anything with my job. And as you can see, HR has approved everything."

He nodded gravely. "According to all this it looks like you will be gone about two months. And it says here that you have also been approved for some of that time to be working from home."

I nod. Dread filling the pit of my stomach.

He shuffles the papers together and slides them back into the file folder with my name on it. Thankfully it is fairly thin.

"Seems due diligence has been met. I hope that whatever is going on with you works out for you."

"Thank you sir." He stands and extends his hand. I stand and shake his hand in parting before leaving his office and heading to the break room. That was unnerving.

Time continues to tick slowly by. Days creep second by second until finally it is time for my surgery.

I wake up extra early to the sound of my doorbell at 4 a.m. My mother has come to pick me up since the buses don't run this early. We gather all the things we need and head to the hospital. After going through all the preliminaries I am led into a room to be changed into a gown and prepped. My mother is encouraged to visit the cafeteria and the waiting room.

Several hours later, I find myself in recovery. Everyone has smiles and tell me that the two lumps were successfully removed. Once I am feeling up to it I am discharged and mom and I leave to go back to my apartment.

The next few days are horrible. I am in pain. Lots of pain. Something the doctor only lightly talked about post-surgery. The medicine makes keeping food down hard for some reason and I am restless all the time. My mom does her best to help.

After only a day of this I call the doctor up and explain how I am feeling. He finds the reaction to the medicine odd. They have me come back in. They check me again to make sure everything is alright. And that is when they find more tumors. This time in my stomach.

Too weak for another surgery so soon. We decide to push up the window for the chemo to start. And they change my pain medication to something less intense, which helps slightly.

How on earth did I not know about the disease in my stomach?

Determined to not give up. I follow through with the prescribed treatment plans. Clear up to the date I am scheduled to fly out for my trip.

I look terrible my mother says. I have lost a lot of hair, and weight. I am weak. I am tired. But I decide to press on anyway. I have paid for and planned for this trip. It is kind of my make-a-wish thing is what I tell my mom and doctors when asked if I am going to go forward with it.

As a added courtesy to the retreat I email them my new medical condition and new requirements needed. They confirm that it won't be an issue.

The day of the flight. Mom and I head out and are given what feels like a VIP treatment. I am shuttled around without having to go through security after getting our tickets. On the flight we are upgraded to first class right by the doors. First passengers on and first passengers off at each location.

Once in the Scotland airport we are met in the luggage claim area and escorted via shuttle to the limousine waiting to take us to the first hotel.

We check in and I am taken up via a wheelchair and fancy elevator to our room. After a few minutes to take in the room itself we are greeted by the retreat hostess whom I had been in contact with via email.

She gives me a gentle but warm hug and same with my mother while handing her an itinerary for us to look over before leaving us to get settled.

My mother is worried that some of these tours will be too taxing on me. I try and reassure her that I will be fine and that I will be able to handle it.

Over the course of the retreat we see all kinds of things. Castles, and wilderness, and historical sites. Tourist areas are a frequent point of stops as well. And though I do tire easily the trip is not as hard on me as she worries it to be.

We press on.

It is the last night of the retreat, and we are at the farewell dinner. The hostess stands and thanks everyone for attending. I was very grateful to have still been able to come too as it has given me a new circle of people to share a friendship with that I otherwise would not have had.

"Before we say our goodbyes we have an extremely special guest with us tonight. Some of you may know of him for his many charities that he does work for, while others of you may know him more for his on screen work. In either case it is my honor to present to you...."

Her voice trails off in my ears and I do not hear the rest of what she is saying, nor do I pay attention to the applause by the other guests. Standing next to the hostess is the most beautiful man I had ever seen. His smile was perfect. And to be completely honest I had no idea who he was. Obviously someone famous at least locally. I didn't care. All I saw was that smile. And then I fainted.

When I came too I was up in my room. And there were people milling about me. Most of them uncertain what to do aside from pacing. My mother was there, the hostess, a handful of guests that I had grown close to, and that man. Besides them there was also a couple of doctors checking vitals and what not.

I overheard words like "needs to get to the hospital" and "not sure what happened" and "just fainted".

I groaned, trying to let them know I was at least alive. To my surprise the man with the smile was first to my bedside. "Are ye alright lass?" he said as he gently took my hand.

I nearly fainted again at his touch, but I didn't. I nodded instead before he was nudged aside by the medical team. My mother appeared at my other side and held my hand. "They are going to fly us to the metropolitan hospital in Edinburgh where they will do a complete work over to make sure you are well enough to fly back to the states."

Convinced I was stable enough to move. The doctors made their calls and the next thing I knew I was being whisked away to a helicopter with my mother in tow.

Once at the hospital they ran several several tests and spoke with my doctor in the states as well. I was detained in Scotland for at least an additional week.

In truth, after a week there in that hospital I felt tons better. They checked and found that whatever they were doing was actually shrinking my tumors and I was slowly getting better. They made arrangements for me to continue their treatments back home and were in the process of discharging me.

Back home, I attempted to resume my life as normal. Lots had changed though. I had changed. For one thing, I decided to keep the chemo look and just shaved all the hair off and wore scarves when going out. For another I no longer worried about my day to day grind. Instead I focused on finding something each day to try and make the day brighter for someone else.

It has been a year now, I am thankfully in remission. At work now there is a reading group that gathers during lunch breaks. We are currently reading a book series I picked up while on my retreat set in the Highlands in the 1740's. A very good read. I have a group of people from the retreat I keep in touch with. The man with the smile being one of them. The retreat coordinator being another. I get out more.

Sometimes someone will ask me how I stand it. Having gone through what I have. I just smile and tell them that even though I didn't start out believing strongly in someone being out there, I now do believe that we are all given burdens, crosses if you will, that might look heavy and unbearable. But that if we stand strong and put our trust outside of ourselves that sometimes that is what can give us the strength to bear up and carry on with those burdens. Making them easier to endure. And sometimes even making them be lifted from our shoulders altogether.