After my post yesterday a friend shared this story.
She was going through chemotherapy for breast cancer and had just finished her second round of the potent drugs. She was just beginning to feel better when her husband asked if she wanted to attend a business dinner. He and another couple were to have dinner with a prospective new hire and her husband. Since my friend hadn’t been out of the house in nearly two weeks she agreed to go.
She got herself ready, carefully applying her makeup to hide her pale face and lack of eyebrows. She combed out her perfect hair…her wig, and placed it on her head. She was a bit thin because of the weight loss from her last treatment, but all in all she looked pretty good. She’d been thinking of her grandma lately, who had passed away recently and had left her a gorgeous cashmere coat with a fur collar. Knowing the weather was frigid and she’d be out after dark, she choose to wear the coat. All put together she looked fantastic, but underneath she felt vulnerable, sick and just a little afraid.
The drive to the restaurant made her stomach churn and walking in a little late added to her already fragile condition. The reason this story remains in her mind is what happened next. The dinner became the worst dinner experience of her life. There were six people total ~ three couples. Every time my friend tried to interject something into the conversation, the husband of the potential new hire who sat across the table from her looked at her with such disdain and without apology ignored her. She figured that he didn’t like her, but why? She didn’t know…they had just met. He refused to have a conversation with her.
Occasionally she recognizes the man at printing functions but she is certain that he doesn’t recognize her. She looks nothing like the lady who walked into the restaurant that evening. She will never be that person again, but more than likely he will always be that guy.