This is why I fight

So the fat leg continues to be fat!  Physical therapist said it may take up to 6 weeks or longer of weekly "manual lymph drainage" (sounds horrible but is really just very very light massage) plus wearing my beautiful compression socks for it to go down.  If it doesn't then I get these amazingly sexy & gorgeous night time "garments" to wear that look like oven mits on steroids & are custom made to fit my leg.  Yeah, one more disfiguring event - hopefully we can get it under control without that. 

So, last night I got a package from Kirsten, whom I've written about before - she was my roommate the first year at West Point.  I was telling Eriana about her this morning & realized we've been friends for 23 years.  I know for my high school & childhood buddies who read this that is nothing, but wow, thats a long time.  Anyway it was a wonderful package with some beautiful scarves & a very sweet card. 

But what I found in there that truly moved me was this - a note from Benjamin - Kirsten & Rob's 5 year old son (whom I've never met sadly).  It was accompanied by a note of explanation from his Grandmother that he didn't have time to finish it - it was going to say "feel better soon" at the end.  But somehow, it doesn't need that. 

The beauty of his innocent handwriting (on the backdrop of a St Jude note no less) moved me to tears.  Here is a little boy I have never met who is expressing his love for me - as much as I hate cancer - I have to be a little thankful for it at this point.  I never would've gotten this note from Benjamin (or the hundreds of others I've gotten) if it weren't for cancer.  I wouldn't have had the opportunity to be encouraged, inspired, and motivated by a little boy whom I've never met.  I wouldn't have had the opportunity to sit in awe of his parents - who have instilled this spirit of caring and love in him for people he doesn't even know. 

Damn, I am one lucky girl.