Here, I needed Waze just to find my lost identity, let alone my missing sense of perspective

When I first found a lump where it didn’t belong (where does a lump belong?) I had no idea it was to become my ticket to a new and interesting detour on my life’s journey.

We’d recently moved from there to here, and I was already feeling like a stranger in a strange land. How would I navigate this uncharted medical landscape?

There, if I didn’t know who, I knew who knew who. Here, I needed Waze just to find my lost identity, let alone my missing sense of perspective.

Fast-forward to a few appointments, biopsies, surgeries, and multiple masked meetings later (there were still Covid rules in place), and I’m not sure what was worse: the diagnosis of cancer or the confusion that came with it.

After narrowing it down to three different specialists with three different treatment protocols, one of the three doctors offered to put me in touch with a patient of hers who had recently been diagnosed and treated and, believe it or not, within ten minutes of that conversation I was on the phone with Michal, who became my guiding angel.

Not only was she a fellow member of the tribe, she was direct and honest, and she became an anchor of reason and calm when I needed it most.

She listened. She knew. She was compassionate and kind. She answered my (many, many) questions and shared both her experience and her advice. She commiserated and she kept me focused. And even though that specialist wasn’t the one we chose to go with, Michal and I have continued to bond through both her continuing recovery, thank G-d, and mine.

Knowing what it meant to me to have her in my life, I wanted to pay it forward and do the same for someone else. I told that to my oncologist (and his office staff), and then I called both our local Jewish health advocacy initiative here (Bikur Cholim), as well as the one in our former city, to let them know that I wanted to continue being a part of that chain of kindness.

And I have.

It isn’t just about being nice. It’s more like the privileged responsibility of planting more giving seeds, nurturing them, and investing in my — and someone else’s — future.

After all, what else is there?

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 911)