Lessons from a Day with Lynne

“My sister has breast cancer.”

“No, not that one. Her older sister, Lynne.”

Despite saying the phrases above a countless number of times during the past two weeks, I’m not sure that it’s fully sunken in.

When My was diagnosed with breast cancer about seven years ago, I was just finishing my time at Holy Cross and getting ready to start grad school at the University of Vermont. While I knew that My was a champ through her entire battle, it was difficult to witness it and support her from a distance. There were those big moments in her journey that I wanted to make it a point to be at – her first chemo treatment, her surgeries, her last chemo treatment. Now that I’m much closer to family, there wasn’t a question about being there physically, by Lynne’s side, from day one.

Given my lighter summer work schedule, I was happy to be able to hang out with Lynne for her pre-treatment appointments at MGH. It was an excuse to not be in the office and we got to grab lunch at Lynne’s favorite Thai restaurant while she worked down the street in Boston. During my time with Lynne, while I was by her side and while I waited for her in the waiting rooms, I reflected on a few lessons that she was teaching me throughout the day.

Life doesn’t have to be so planned and scripted.

“It’s really taught me that I don’t need to plan out every moment of my days and weeks”, Lynne shared with me as we had lunch on the MGH Museum roof deck. One thing that Lynne and I share in common is that we over-plan life. We’re those people who look so far ahead that it annoys our partners because we forget to live in the moment. Lynne looks for Slick Deals for vacations five summers in advance. With two amazing, smart, young kids by her side, it’s a nice reminder to slow down and to enjoy the moments in front of us – we can write the life story as it’s happening.

Good people make shitty situations better.

Doans deal with everything together. We’re sympathetic to each others common cold and stomachaches and by each other sides in hospital beds. We know that we’re truly lucky to have that type of family. What has been even nicer to see is Lynne’s home community in Natick is rallying behind her, Mike, and the kids, and reminding them “we’re all in this together.” During my time with Lynne, neighbors reached out for updates and to check in, someone stopped by with flowers, and others prepared full meals for them. I’m so happy that she has the community that she does surrounding them.

You can conquer anything that you set your mind to.

Barium sulfate is described as a “chalky liquid”, “a very thick milk”, and “often considered the worst part of a CT scan”. After realizing that she had one more appointment at MGH despite thinking her day there was done, Lynne received the instructions from the radiology tech – “one [bottle] is good, one and a half is even better, two is great.” With those instructions, she looked at the two bottles with a strong sense of determination. Each sip resulted in a gag where I was prepared to catch some of her yack in a cup. Many “I can’t do this” proclamations turned into her yelling at me to not throw her empty bottle away because she “wanted to save it and needed to show the tech proof that she drank it.” For those of you who know Lynne, none of this should surprise you. She did what she set her mind to…and continues her hoarding habits, despite her diagnosis.

Lynne, you’ve taught me more than you could probably ever remember in my 29 years of life. I have no doubt that you will continue to teach me so much more through this journey. I, and everyone else, am here for you, Mike, Carter, and Katherine whenever you need – even when you may not know you need it.

Live in the moment. You’ve got good people around you. You’ll get through this.