A Divine Hand

The next morning I awoke to find a new friend request, the photograph bearing a beautiful young woman smiling luminously in her wedding gown.  I did not recognize the name from Pete, so I investigated a little further.  I noticed that Jodi’s status mentioned her upcoming exchange surgery, the last procedure in reconstruction after a mastectomy.  Okay, I thought, this woman has to be my friend, not only in the cyber world of facebook but also in real life.

A few emails later, Jodi and I scheduled a phone date so we could get to know one another better.  It was a warm Monday evening in early April, and I darted over to the gym after work to squeeze in a run before the big call.  I only know a handful of young women my age who have had the surgery, so it’s a big deal when one more woman comes your way and is eager to share her story.  And there was something about Jodi that seemed particularly special.  If I only knew.

From the minute I heard her voice, I could tell that this woman was going to become a dear friend and one of my greatest mentors.  Jodi’s sweet, soothing tone took hold of me as I walked up 33rd street back to my house.  I’m not sure if I was more flushed from my recent run or from speaking with a woman who knew exactly what it’s like to walk a mile in my shoes.  In fact, she’s a few miles ahead of me and was telling me what to expect every step along the way.

Oddly enough, it seems like I’m always wearing sweaty gym shorts when life-changing moments take place.  I was leaving the gym two years ago when I got the phone call that would forever change my life.  “You’ve inherited your grandmother’s mutation,” my genetic counselor said in a quick, hushed voice.  But don’t worry, my counselor said, just keep living your life and try not to think about it for a few years.  After all, I’m so young, she reassured.

That voice has haunted me ever since.  How am I supposed to forget and keep living?  Shouldn’t I take advantage of the fact that I’m young to do something powerful with this new knowledge?  Why should I let my youth act as a barrier to being proactive about my health?  I hadn’t up until this point, why now?  Whether I liked it or not, everything had suddenly changed.  And I knew this as I wobbled home from the gym on my bicycle, trying desperately to keep balance of my life.

And here I was again, in tightly laced tennis shoes and sweaty mesh gym shorts.  I should have known that I was in for something big.  But this time the voice on the other end of the phone spoke with confidence, grace and hope.  Unlike the phone call two years ago, each word she spoke energized me more and brought me greater clarity and focus.  A divine hand definitely had a play in bringing us together.  By the end of our conversation, I knew once again my life had changed.  But this time I could not be more excited!

Just two days ago, I got to finally meet Jodi in person.  I’ve been in New York City for my upcoming consultations tomorrow with a breast surgeon and plastic surgeon at Sloan-Kettering.  I thought Jodi and I would miss one another, because she had planned a vacation with her husband to celebrate their first wedding anniversary and her full recovery from surgery and reconstruction.  Unfortunately, work came in the way, and Jodi had to stay home this weekend.  But, secretly, I was thrilled!  I could finally meet the voice that has guided and inspired me over the past few weeks.

My mother and I woke up early on Saturday morning to drive from New Jersey into New York City’s Upper East Side to meet Jodi at her apartment before heading to brunch.  After a few wrong turns, we finally arrived.  I was so nervous, as if I was about to meet up for a long-awaited blind date.  It was a little cloudy in the morning, but as my mother and I walked up to her apartment building the clouds started to disappear.

We took the elevator up 15 floors and found her door at the end of the hallway.  When we pushed the buzzer, the door whisked open and there she was!  Jodi was even more beautiful in person, if you can believe it.  We immediately threw our arms around one another and embraced as if we’d known each other for ever.  Jodi’s warm, dark eyes bespoke her generous, gentle spirit.

My mom was also captured by her presence the minute they met.  Even though my mother was pretty confident for me beforehand, Jodi had a tremendous impact upon her right from the get go.  To see a young woman, nearly my age, who has made it through surgery and reconstruction made a world of a difference for my mom.

Jodi is not only thriving but incredibly happy.  She has a great job, a loving husband, and – might I add – an amazing rack!  When Jodi lifted her black tank top above her chest, I could see the relief and amazement cross over my mother’s face.  Jodi has practically very little scarring and a very natural breast shape.  If my breasts look like Jodi’s afterward, I know I’ll be the envy of countless women.  As my mother later told my aunt, “You should have seen them!  I think we should all get a set!”

We soon left for brunch and settled down at an Italian restaurant around the corner on 2nd Avenue.  It seemed appropriate that the restaurant had a bright pink awning, bright pink to-go cups, and bright pink dishware.  We sat at a small white table on the sidewalk under the pink shade of the awning.  Jodi sat across from me, smiling over with her big brown eyes.  The three of us shared stories for nearly an hour until finally we had to get the check and carry on with our busy days.

Before we said goodbye, we made arrangements to meet again for dinner tomorrow night.  Joining us will be my mom, my aunt, my PinkPal through Be Bright Pink (Tovah Tripp), and her mother.  After corresponding for a year and a half, Tovah and I just met last week (I’ll be blogging about this epic encounter soon!).  Tovah is 24-years-old and carries a BRCA-2 mutation, so Be Bright Pink paired us up in January 2009 to become mentors for one another as we struggle to make sense of our risk and find the best way to counteract it.  Anyway, I’ve been looking forward to this dinner.  I can’t wait for Tovah to meet Jodi.  Considering the lasting impact Jodi’s made upon me, I am excited to see Jodi’s incredible influence continue to spread and grow throughout the young BRCA community.  Her courage is truly infectious, and I owe much of my strength to her.

It’s women like Jodi, Lindsay and Kristy who are my heroes – including those in my blog who I’ve described but left unnamed.  These women live out the motto actions not words and provide real, tangible inspiration for girls like myself.  At a very young age, they’ve encountered some pretty scary things.  Instead of fleeing, sticking their head in the sand, and pretending that ignorance is bliss, these women tackled their genetic mutations head-on.  They’ve demonstrated, role modeled, exactly how to do this for other young women in the BRCA community.  They’ve proven that a BRCA mutation is the greatest blessing rather than the greatest burden.

I hope I can be as bold and fearless for my PinkPals, like Tovah and Rebecca, and for my two little sisters, Josephine and Alice.  I know for a fact that I couldn’t brave this path alone, not without the guidance of others who have blazed it before me.  Thank you, Jodi, for showing me the way!