Everyone needs one

Everyone needs a friend like my good friend Jennifer. I met Jennifer in 1994 when we moved back to NC from Maryland. She lived in my neighborhood and we met in a women's bible study.
She had just lost her dad to liver cancer. Little did we know at the time how that disease would one day strike both of our lives again. Ten years later I had my recurrence and her husband was diagnosed with biliary duct liver cancer. She lived through his surgery and recovery, she is living with his survival percentage data and she lives with my battle every day. She is a remarkable woman, but in a very unique way.

You see, Jennifer is my one true "blonde" friend. When you hear a dumb blonde joke, it is likely to be similar to something she has done in her lifetime. She is tall and beautiful and floats on the surface of life where everything is rosy, every meal is delicious, every weekend a good time, every trip is the best. She rarely has a bad word to say about anything or anyone. She is the first to point out the positive, no matter how trivial or insignificant.

Jennifer was one of my caretakers during my stem-cell transplant. When it was her time to pull duty, she showed up with a fluffy robe, tea, and old movies. This was going to be "girl time".
What it ended up being was me at my sickest, her rushing me to Rex hospital and wondering if I was going to live to see the next day. She witnessed the awful side effects of massive doses of chemo which led me to need liquid codeine and made me throw up whenever I sat up. Through all of this, she took care of me with a Scarlette O'Hara-type of "oh fiddle-dee-dee" attitude that belied how serious the situation was. Once, when I had to get up to go to the bathroom, I warned her of the certainty of my throwing up when I lifted my head. This was not a problem.
In fact, when it did happened, she got me a washcloth and said, "I'm so jealous...you're going to be so skinny in your bathing suit this summer!" I still laugh about that....but it was her way of
keeping it light, keeping it bearable, and keeping me looking forward.

She still does that for me today. When times are bad, she is the one who finds things to say that buck me up and strengthen me. Her statements are rarely spiritual, instead she gets angry and determined and tells me that they will find a way to kick the latest progression in the ass. She squeals with delight when the news is good. This past Friday she could have broken glass when I told her about the latest tumor marker. Through all her sillyness, humor, and sometimes unrealistic positiveness, I know there is a vein in her of deep love and compassion and caring and seriousness. But like most of you, I have a lot of loving family, compassionate friends, caring medical staff, and the battle is serious enough already.

I hope each of you has a Jennifer. The friend that never notices how you look or what you have on, and she still will go anywhere and do anything with you. She is the one who invites you to a party for the fun of it as her "date" even though you may not have hair. She is the friend you would want to go to Vegas with, the friend who is always up for a glass of wine, the friend who takes you riding around in her convertible on a warm spring night playing Aretha Franklin on the CD player. She calls for no reason and calls to say she is kayaking in the calm waters of Smith Creek, drinking champagne and wishing I was there.

Everybody needs a Jennifer in their lives. She rounds things out and keeps things fun and helps me focus on life other than life with cancer. Everyone needs a Jennifer because in her own unique way, I know without question that she believes in me as much as anyone.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." John 15:17