Touched by an Angel

This is an experience I have shared verbally with others, but I have neglected to write it down. This is a "Keeper" so I'm blogging it today.

Just days before my 50th birthday, I got the news from my gynocologist that I had uterine cancer and would need surgery and radiation therapy. My doctor scheduled a CAT scan of my abdomen before my surgery so he could tell if the cancer had spread from my uterus to other organs. I was taking my diagnosis in stride and didn't want to stress out my employer so I slipped over to the hospital for a long lunch period to have my CAT scan done. I settled in a comfy chair in the radiology waiting room at the hospital and started drinking glass after glass of my chalky radioactive milkshakes. I was reading "Cancer Schmancer" about Fran Drescher's experience with uterine cancer. I didn't want to look pitiful - I wanted to appear brave. I thought I was brave. Most of the people in the waiting room were either there for diagnostic tests or there to support someone who was being tested. No one in the room actually made eye contact with anyone else, but we were all noting details - who looked sick or frail, who was drinking radioactive milkshakes, who looked upset. A woman sat beside me and said, "Uterine cancer, huh?" I affirmed her hypothesis. She said that her husband had had cancer and that he got the best of care from the local health care professionals. As she was bold with me, I dared ask how her husband was doing. His cancer was caught too late and he didn't survive. It was a hot August day and I was dressed in light cotton clothing. The hospital air-conditioning was making me cold. Add a bit of anxiety since I had never had a CAT scan before.....I started shaking. The woman offered me her sweater. Since I knew I would have to be perfectly still during the CAT scan, I accepted her offer because I needed to do something to get my shaking under control. After drinking 3 large milkshakes, I needed to use the restroom so I told her where I was going and that I would be right back. I gave her sweater back to her just in case she needed to leave before I came back . When I returned to the waiting room, her sweater was lying on my chair with a note on it. The note said, "Keep the sweater. I know you'll be just fine. Good luck and God bless - Donna." I was so touched that I couldn't keep back the tears. I didn't know where Donna went, but I kept looking for her to come back to the waiting room. Finally, I saw her in the corridor with a patient in transit on a guerney. I ran after her and embraced her. I told her that her sweater warmed my heart as much as it warmed my body. I did do just fine with my cancer and I kept Donna's sweater in my closet for years to remind me of my encounter with an earth angel.