This “Cancer Thing”

First, we cried. My wife Debra and I were overwhelmed by her diagnosis of Stage III cancer, and statistics showing at best a 50/50 chance that she’d live for another five years. We tried to stay upbeat, but when we lay down to sleep, the tears poured forth.

Three weeks into chemotherapy, her hair began to fall out. I felt stricken when I saw it. But Debra is the opposite of vain; she took it to mean the chemo was working.

Someone suggested family and friends shave their heads in solidarity. Debra didn’t favor that, but just for a while, she pretended she did, as a practical joke on her older sister Linda, whose long blond hair is her crowning glory. She told Linda how touched she was that Linda would make such a sacrifice. Linda freaked out, and Debra cracked up.

“We’ve gotta have some fun with this cancer thing,” Debra told me. So this “cancer thing” became part of our life together, a journey that has always been leavened by laughter. Instead of shaving their heads, family and friends decided to wear headscarves on the days Debra was in chemotherapy. And thus was born “Headscarf Monday,” an online festival of uplifting messages, prayers, and selfies with outlandish headgear. We felt surrounded by angels, bringing hope and joy into our time of weeping.