The Sad Eyes

A couple of days after I was diagnosed, I was speaking to my friend Dave (you know, the one who also had cancer) and he asked me if I'd gotten "the sad eyes" yet. Sad eyes? Huh? No, I replied. But then again, most of my friends are long distance and I haven't actually seen anyone other than my husband and my family.

Until this weekend.

Alan and I were out Friday night and ran into one of our friends around here. She's fabulous. A real contributer. Alan must have told her becuase she walked right up to me, didn't say a word, and BAM! There were the sad eyes. The eyes that say, "Oh, God, you might die." or at the very least, "I don't know what to say." Still wordless, she hugged me and gave me the double hug- you know, the hug with a little pulse in the middle as she hugs me tighter. Then I could hear the quiver. I've gotten used to the quiver. I hear the quiver on the phone a fair amount. I like to nip that quiver in the bud. "Shut up. Stop it." I say.

While appreciate the emotions that the sad eyes and the quiver portray, it is sad to me to see an otherwise fiesty chick speechless. We all know that is not in our nature. So no sad eyes, please. I personally cannot take it. I won't cry because of the situation, I'll cry because you're about to. I call it "sorority pref night syndrome". So if you see me, please say instead, "Oh man, Courtney, this sucks. Can I buy you a drink?" Or, if you prefer "I'm so sorry. Did you hear about Nick Lachey?"

Cuz I'm not any different. I've always loved a challenge.