A Truly Great Performance

When she told me what the doctor said I dreaded the months to come. Knowing her sensitivity, her bend toward depression, her obsession with the tiniest bodily miscue, I figured she'd live out the worst-case scenario even if it didn‘t happen. With her ballet and showbiz background she'd play out the surgery and treatments to the height of drama, an excuse to become the ultimate diva. She'd isolate herself, her mood would plummet and she'd pull everyone down with her.

In the hospital, under lackluster care, she hung in there with no complaints. She surprised me the day after surgery when she asked for gum and wanted to take a walk. I thought it funny that she got her hair and nails done before surgery--as if for a big performance. So now, her hair still looking great, she grabbed the IV pole and chomping her gum we ventured down the hallway, laughing at hospital indignities and at the backless gown she wore. I won't forget that image of her, she was at her best, anxious to get better. No self-pity, no drama.

In the following months I watched her mood, fearing she'd mentally spiral in the daily grind of this disease. I was still waiting for a big episode, and I thought she'd hole up for six months rather than let anyone see her carry that med-pack around her waist.

I was wrong. Depression may be her natural way to deal with such a trial, but this time she chose to rise to the occasion. Except for days right after treatments, she was up and functioning, making the best of the day, although I could tell she was weary, her eyes cloudy.

Early on, somehow, she understood what it was about. She never saw herself in a battle, but as a participant in life's toughest ballet class. It was about doing the work, getting through the class with style and being better because of the practice. Somehow she turned the ordeal into something graceful, beautiful and strengthening.

Of course I know she had her private moments loathing the cancer and questioning God's tasking of her, but she did not let these thoughts take hold. No big drama, no irreparable breakdowns, no classless self-pity, just rising to the occasion--rising with dignity and a little humor.

I think her whole attitude was a throwback to her showbiz years--Be prepared, don't complain, don't let them see you sweat, then nail it. It served her well. Head held high she walked straight out to her most difficult performance, and nailed it.

It makes me proud to know her.