Wednesday, October 26, 2011
On the day of my last treatment, the girls teasingly asked Nurse Joe if he wanted to tend me on Saturday; a practice that occurrred the first 3 days following chemo. With laughter in his voice, he declined but said that he would call and check up on me. As we went to leave and to the total embarassment of my family, I got brave and gave him my phone number, doubting I would ever hear from him. I will be honest and say that I did go to sleep that night with a smile on my face anticipating that maybe, just maybe he would call the next morning. First thing the next morning, I got a call from Joe checking to see how I was. And so our friendship began.
Without going into all the cheesy details, it wasn't long before we were dating and spending time together. What a sweet man who, true to his earlier words to me, wasn't detered by the deficits I easily judged myself by. On numerous, tender occasions, he would remind me that those things "didn't matter." He was loving, tender, and kind; not to mention romantic, affectionate and passionate about life. It was through those qualities that he taught me that irrespective of my health and condition of my body, I was lovable, attractive and that who I was overshadowed everything else. I came to love Nurse Joe on so many different levels. In a few short months, he unraveled the insecurities left, not only by my cancer, but by previous relationships. As a result, I learned to see myself through different eyes and found peace in myself as a woman...something I don't think I have ever really felt.