I began working at LLS in 2006, two years after my Aunt died of Leukemia. Just like that, one day we got to the call. She was sick and had to go to the hospital. It took six weeks before the Cancer had spread. It was Acute, which meant fast and furious-and so our nightmare came true, at the end of those six weeks she had died. She was 54 and larger than life. I remember thousands of things about her, but what I remember most are the gifts that she would send me since she lived in New York and I lived in Texas. Always something that I loved, never anything that I would have gotten for myself and always written with the most beautiful penmanship-and always on a home made card. And of all the many gifts that she gave me, her course, curly hair (horrible in the Texas humidity) was one that I never knew that I would appreciate so much..read on…
So, LLS seemed like the perfect fit. The culture, the support. I had worked at several other charities in the past, but I knew when I started, I was here to stay.
Almost a year after my start date and after a successful but long Fall, I attended our annual leadership conference in Tennessee. I was excited to meet everyone and see what they were doing in their chapters to make their markets grow.
Halfway through the first day there was a panel discussion of volunteers. Some were executives and some were survivors and one couple, who I thought were married, was there too. The man’s name was Chad and he was a stocky man with thinning hair who sat beside a woman who I thought was his wife but soon found out was actually his sister. She was so moved and passionate about her brother’s treatment and recovery, she turned into one of the biggest fundraisers in the program. I was engaged and eager to learn more about his plight. The session ended a while later and so I quietly said goodbye in my head as the panelists walked out the door. Surely, I would never see them again.
The first day concluded, the day turned into the night and then the next morning I woke quickly out of sleep. I of course had overslept and now, had just 45 minutes to get ready, pack, check-out and then get downstairs for the next day’s meeting. As I scrambled to get my routine started, time got away from me and I started to regret having washed my hair. It always took way too long to fix and was very long and very curly and no quick fix ever sufficed. It simply took the time it took and that was it. As I scrambled to finish getting ready, I plugged in my hair straightener that saved my life so many times before, but this time was different-the little red light that blinked, indicating that it was working, was as black as night…It simply was not working.. I checked all the sockets around the room, surely this could not be happening, one socket must work. But not this time and I knew, it was not going to save me today.
Now in tears, I grabbed my curling iron and stared in the mirror trying the best I could to fix the long, very frizzy mess that stared back at me. I was really panicked now, my 45 minutes was now down to 15 and I was definitely, definitely going to be late.
But then suddenly, when I looked up again into the mirror again, it was not me staring back.. but Chad, the survivor from the day before! What was he doing looking back at me? And then, in a moment of clarity and calm, I realized what I had overlooked so blatantly the day before. Chad was not what we called a survivor (of course he would be-just not quite yet) , Chad was actually a patient, one of our honored heroes still going through treatment. And he was not heavyset, he was swollen, a result of the chemotherapy-and, his thinning hair was not a result of bad genetics, but again the chemo that was trying to save his life for him.
And as I looked harder into the mirror, I found myself staring back at me with my long frizzy, thick hair. And I realized, in that moment, that the hair that I had complained about so many hundreds of times before. The hair that usually made me late to events, and dates, and work…that hair, that cost me hundreds a year on hair products alone, that hair-I had never ever loved more. And I was thrilled to have it because like Chad, you never know when you won’t have it anymore.
Thanks to my precious Aunt for giving me my hair, thanks to whoever is working on my side to keep me healthy enough to make a difference and thank you Chad, for making someone who works everyday so hard at saving lives remember what really matters, the people in the middle of it all, our heroes.
And by the way, when I got back from my trip I plugged in the straightening iron at home, and it worked.
So, LLS seemed like the perfect fit. The culture, the support. I had worked at several other charities in the past, but I knew when I started, I was here to stay.
Almost a year after my start date and after a successful but long Fall, I attended our annual leadership conference in Tennessee. I was excited to meet everyone and see what they were doing in their chapters to make their markets grow.
Halfway through the first day there was a panel discussion of volunteers. Some were executives and some were survivors and one couple, who I thought were married, was there too. The man’s name was Chad and he was a stocky man with thinning hair who sat beside a woman who I thought was his wife but soon found out was actually his sister. She was so moved and passionate about her brother’s treatment and recovery, she turned into one of the biggest fundraisers in the program. I was engaged and eager to learn more about his plight. The session ended a while later and so I quietly said goodbye in my head as the panelists walked out the door. Surely, I would never see them again.
The first day concluded, the day turned into the night and then the next morning I woke quickly out of sleep. I of course had overslept and now, had just 45 minutes to get ready, pack, check-out and then get downstairs for the next day’s meeting. As I scrambled to get my routine started, time got away from me and I started to regret having washed my hair. It always took way too long to fix and was very long and very curly and no quick fix ever sufficed. It simply took the time it took and that was it. As I scrambled to finish getting ready, I plugged in my hair straightener that saved my life so many times before, but this time was different-the little red light that blinked, indicating that it was working, was as black as night…It simply was not working.. I checked all the sockets around the room, surely this could not be happening, one socket must work. But not this time and I knew, it was not going to save me today.
Now in tears, I grabbed my curling iron and stared in the mirror trying the best I could to fix the long, very frizzy mess that stared back at me. I was really panicked now, my 45 minutes was now down to 15 and I was definitely, definitely going to be late.
But then suddenly, when I looked up again into the mirror again, it was not me staring back.. but Chad, the survivor from the day before! What was he doing looking back at me? And then, in a moment of clarity and calm, I realized what I had overlooked so blatantly the day before. Chad was not what we called a survivor (of course he would be-just not quite yet) , Chad was actually a patient, one of our honored heroes still going through treatment. And he was not heavyset, he was swollen, a result of the chemotherapy-and, his thinning hair was not a result of bad genetics, but again the chemo that was trying to save his life for him.
And as I looked harder into the mirror, I found myself staring back at me with my long frizzy, thick hair. And I realized, in that moment, that the hair that I had complained about so many hundreds of times before. The hair that usually made me late to events, and dates, and work…that hair, that cost me hundreds a year on hair products alone, that hair-I had never ever loved more. And I was thrilled to have it because like Chad, you never know when you won’t have it anymore.
Thanks to my precious Aunt for giving me my hair, thanks to whoever is working on my side to keep me healthy enough to make a difference and thank you Chad, for making someone who works everyday so hard at saving lives remember what really matters, the people in the middle of it all, our heroes.
And by the way, when I got back from my trip I plugged in the straightening iron at home, and it worked.
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