Just the right toast for a dear friend’s fortitude

Just the right toast for a dear friend’s fortitude

French toast means more than you know for cancer warrior

“Remember there’s no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.” -Scott Adams

My dear friend Connie has been battling stage 4 breast cancer for about 6-1/2 years.  Through it all she has carried on valiantly, a fierce warrior woman refusing to let the diagnosis keep her from doing the things she deems important.  More than once she has walked right up to death’s door, then fought her way back to remain with the living.  The Energizer Bunny has nothing on her!

As awful as the disease is, I sometimes think it pales in comparison to the side effects of the treatment.  

Among the many challenges she’s had to deal with, it seems a lot have to do with eating.  She has experienced a loss of appetite at times.  There have also been changes in her tastebuds where foods don’t taste the way they once did. Her teeth have suffered damage, and she has developed sores in her mouth and on her tongue that never seem to go away.  

Shortly after her diagnosis, she and I started scheduling girl dates along with another good friend, Teresa. We typically get together once a week to have dinner, go to a movie, or do some kind of art or craft class/project.

I have to say making that precious time a priority has been one of the few positive things I can think of to come from her illness.  We do treasure our outings, knowing full well they probably wouldn’t have happened—at least not on regular basis— had Connie not gotten sick.

About a month ago we met for an early lunch at the Courier Cafe, a popular local eatery.  Connie ordered a sweet frothy drink called a green river then began to study the menu, hoping to find something suitable to eat.  A lot of options seemed too spicy and could burn her sensitive tongue and mouth.  Other entrees had no appeal to her compromised tastebuds. She commented that what she would really wanted was some French toast, but that was out of the question. This place stopped serving breakfast an hour ago.

We had arrived before the lunch crowd, but the restaurant would be filling up soon. Within minutes there would most likely be a line at the door of people waiting to be seated.

Should we go somewhere else, or would Connie decide to eat later and, in the meantime, just sip her green river while we ate?

While we were still considering the options, I had a chance to discreetly pull our server aside. I explained that our friend was ill and that she was unable to eat many of the entrees listed on the menu. I told her we knew that breakfast was over but wondered if there was any possible way Connie could still get someone to make her French toast.

Restaurants and other businesses have their systems and their rules.  I understand how important it is to operate that way.  If you make an exception even once, it might open the floodgates for countless others.  What if another customer realized that one of us was eating something not on the lunch menu?  

I fully expected an immediate “sorry—no.” Instead, I was surprised when the answer was a simple “I don’t know, but I’ll ask.”

She went to the kitchen and emerged just a few minutes later.  As she approached our table, her face broke into a smile as she nodded. 

When Connie learned she could order her French toast after all, It seemed like she was receiving a special gift. Her expression was a combination of both relief  and happiness.

I suppose in the scheme of life, what happened that day would not be a big deal in many people’s lives.  It’s French toast, for crying out loud!

From my observations, I realize that cancer patients may long to eat a particular food only to be repulsed by it when it finally arrives. The aroma may be off-putting, or it may trigger waves of nausea.

Many times Connie has ordered food and/or drinks and then hardly touched them. That day, however, her appetite was good. She downed most of her green river as well as the French toast. And all the while, her face shone with contentment.

We continued to thank our server profusely until we left the restaurant. I don’t know if she later relayed our extreme gratitude to the cook or not.  I hope she did.  From her reaction to our reactions, I’m certain she herself felt the impact of all that had transpired.

I literally had goosebumps!  Teresa and I were both blinking back the tears.  

Seeing our friend able to eat anything was always good. Watching her actually enjoy the eating was huge! And, it was all made possible because of acts of kindness from strangers, including a cook we never laid eyes on.

Caught up in the busyness of our own lives, we tend to be oblivious to the challenges those we encounter are facing. There may be serious  physical issues, emotional issues, financial issues, or even a combination of all of those issues.  \We just don’t know.

When we reach out to others with compassion, we  may never know the impact our actions. Even so, we should remember that their effects carry massive potential—always. Not a single kind deed can be minimized or taken for granted. 

All of them matter—all are great.

3 thoughts on “Just the right toast for a dear friend’s fortitude

  1. Very sweet! Love this story!! So glad you could all connect with her as I am sure she appreciates you more than you know!! You all benefit. You are right about the little things. Mark Harris is going through these things, and and the loss of taste and hot and cold sensitivity are such a bummer. Bless them both! Thank you again for the lovely post!!

  2. I am so very sorry your friend is going through this life/death challenge. My sister and I experienced a similar but short lived challenge with our brother, Larry. It was amazing the generosity the rural town, Greenville, where he lived (and we all grew up) would rally to help Larry. From the mail person that handed the mail to him because of his limited ability to walk to friends that drove him to doctors’ appointments to the family that delivered a hospital chair that their dad no longer needed and which would allow Larry to watch TV in his living room. We saw blessings every single day by the wonderful people of Greenville, Illinois. Prayers for Connie.

  3. Such an uplifting story! You are so right that small acts of kindness often have a ripple effect that we may never be aware of. I am so sorry that your friend is having to deal with this awful disease, but she is very fortunate to have such wonderful friends by her side. The Courier is one of my favorite restaurants, by the way.

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