Bear with me, those who have heard part of this story before.

About eight years ago I went through radiation for lymphoma. During the treatments, I would share the waiting room with several others, all in our gowns, focused on our personal issues, waiting for chemo, or radiation. We never talked or engaged in any way.

A year or so later I was in the produce section of a grocery store and there was a woman from that waiting area. We made eye contact and immediately burst into tears. Spontaneous crying and hugging over apples. We’d both thought the same thing. ‘She’s alive!’

Over the years, oddly enough, I’ve run into her a couple more times. Both at that grocery store. I haven’t seen her in about two years now.

Some of you know that I spent some time this past March and April in the hospital for internal bleeding. Found out that there’s a tiny spot of a weird type of lymphoma at the base of my esophagus. Sounds worse than it is. Anyway, I find out in a week if I have to do radiation again. If so, it’s not a big deal. Low-dose, localized, etc. I might have problems swallowing and nausea, but nothing I haven’t gone through before. And if I do, this time it won’t involve my brain so I won’t struggle through two years of radiation fallout waiting for the brain chemistry to sort itself out and terrified I’ll never write again.

So here’s the point of this personal non-writing blog post. Today I went to the grocery store. And guess what? There she was. Still alive. Doing great.

Isn’t that  weird? I think that every time I run into her. I mean, I have to drive to the city, and of all the days and times and people, we just happen to periodically be in the same place at the same time. Coincidence today? I think not.

Some might see that as a bad omen.

I see it as the opposite.