Propping up Chin With Both Hands


My heart is heavy.

Today, I met a woman with cancer that struggles to keep a job while fighting through chemotherapy. Her head is bald, her skin is loose and blotched with purple patches, yet even though she knows she’ll be ill tomorrow, she is vigorously energetic today.

Yet another woman came in today with a large bandage loosely taped below a very swollen eye, reaching from her nose to her cheekbone. She had skin cancer removed yesterday, and what was supposed to be a small incision ended up four inches long. She said it feels like they cut off half her face.

A woman that works in the adjoining office was diagnosed with breast cancer earlier this week. She has yet to visit the specialist that will handle her treatments.

An older gentleman I know has been on chemo for a few months now, the treatment for late stage, inoperable prostate cancer. I saw him the other day, and all he could say was “they keep insisting they’re going to keep me alive.”

And the list goes on.

These people valiantly hold their chins up with both hands. Life means more to them, life is precious, and their incredible courage carries them through day by day.

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