Dear man who offered to help me in the Barnes & Noble parking lot on Saturday:

I’m sorry I was kind of bitchy. You were doing this nice thing and I was frustrated and angry and didn’t even turn around to acknowledge your offer.

You see it would have been so easy to let you lift my husband’s wheel chair and put it in my car for me but what about getting it back out when I got home? What about the next time and the next time after that? I was thinking of all that as I cursed under my breath, gritted my teeth and said, “No, got this” at you. Surely you thought I was an ungrateful bitch but you didn’t realize that I was determined to win this battle. I have to learn how to do these things because this is my new life. Our new life.

My husband painfully watches me struggle and I have to figure things out. Every time I get help is one more time I don’t adapt to the new tasks. There are many and we are learning.

So while a bit late I want to apologize. You had no way of knowing the drama that was playing out in my car and in my brain.

You were being a gentleman, a kind human being.

I was learning how to be a survivor.

Click here to read part 1: “The Cancer Book”
Click here to read part 2: “Chemotherapy, Round Two”