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The Models

Denia Kramer

As a licensed clinical social worker, I have spent my entire professional life counseling people who are struggling to cope with life's uncertainties, drastic changes, and unexpected bumps in the road. My vocation doubles as my passion. I have long been active in religious and charitable work, organizing fundraisers, and helping those less fortunate than myself.

This spring, shortly after joining a group to raise funds for the fight against breast cancer, I encountered my own bump in the road -- a lump in my right breast.

Diagnosed in May 2009, I now belong to a group for which no one volunteers. I can no longer claim to be helping "others" in the fight against breast cancer. I am fighting breast cancer myself. After a lumpectomy and bilateral mastectomy, I have recently started a year-long course of chemotherapy, and I must cope with the fears, side-effects, and bald realities that come with it.

I am thankful that in taking these steps to a cure, I have not walked alone. Just like the "supermodels," I travel with an impressive entourage of caring doctors, nurses, family, and friends whose selfless, loving acts remind me of just how lucky I am.

Once I was assured of losing my hair, a wonderful group of friends accompanied me to a salon where I would have my head shaved to eliminate the need to anxiously await the inevitable. Insisting that she had long wanted to do the same, one of my healthiest friends actually joined me in this rite of passage. One might question her sanity, but her friendship turned a dreaded ordeal into a memorable and inspiring experience.

When I am down, I can always count on my five-year old daughter to lift my spirits with a silly song or lukewarm cup of tea. More comedian than cook, my husband has spared me the need to try his version of chicken soup. However, he did bring me out of the chemotherapy doldrums with the help of a telegram transmitted through a temp in a chicken suit. Struggling to read my husband's poultry poetry, the chicken laid an egg. But the foul fiasco still cracks me up when I'm feeling down.

No, I would not have volunteered for the diagnosis. But I am first in line to join the long list of survivors and the wealth of support they provide to those following in their footsteps. With the support of this community, and the love of those closest to me, I know that I am not one of "those less fortunate" cancer victims. I have been blessed with the boundless love of close family and friends and the opportunity to help others in ways that money cannot.