The Big C Hop for our Dear Melissa Bradley!

My dear friend, Melissa Bradley, wrote this:  
My hugest thanks to Michael Di Gesu, who organized this. You are an amazing friend and I wouldn't know what to do without you.
   As many of you know, I am currently locked in battle with the Big C...Cancer. Today I am celebrating the fight with my wonderful fellow bloggers on this Big C Cancer Blog hop. We are telling stories of the humor found in dealing with this disease. Humor helps a lot in this battle, it is a very effective weapon in keeping one's spirits up and at the ready.
    Money is also an important part of the fight, so these entries you read are all going to be published in an anthology to help me in my fight. Whatever I do not use of the proceeds will be donated to Gilda's Club Chicago, a very important place for women fighting this terrible disease.
    Thanks for reading. You can find all the incredible, wonderful participants here.

I'm sharing a snippet from Chapter 5 of Woman on the Verge of Paradise: Young Teachers and True Love. Here's the start of my story of Brianne, a four year old I was matched with when, during Freshman year at UCLA, I volunteered at the UCLA Medical Center. (The entire segment is too long for a blogpost, but I'll introduce you to Brianne.)

~~~~~~~~~

     I entered quietly, slipping by an empty bed to my left. Beyond it, a small girl popped her head up. She flashed a smile so glowingly it seemed Brianne hadn’t seen another human in months.

    “Hi Brianne. I’m Robyn.”
    “Hi,” she blurted, scooting into a sitting position.
    Brianne’s eyes struck me – the same deep blue as Mom’s, and with beautiful long, dark lashes. Otherwise, she lacked color. Brianne bore only a bit of peach fuzz on her head; her body, pale and depleted; and her heartbeat, dependent upon an IV stuck into her right hand.
    “It’s great to meet you sweetie,” I smiled. “How are you?”
    She pasted a half-smile-half-frown on her face. “So-so,” Brianne replied, adult-like. “Can we play?” Her mood lifted.
    “Sure! What would you like to play?”
    Brianne’s shoulders shot up and down, her mood shifting to sad again. “Do you know how much more I have to be in here?”
    “Oh, sweetie, I wish I knew. I’m sorry, but” —I switched to a low-pitched, manly voice, “I’m Doctor Seuss-opotamus,” I said. “Now let’s see, Miss Brianne.” I pulled my glass frames up and rested the lenses on my head. “Wait a minute. Miss Brianne?” I turned around and pretended to be looking out the window.
    “Where’d you go? I can’t see you.” I turned around and stuck my hand into my front pants pocket, as if to peer into my pocket for her. “Brianne? Where are you?”
    “I’m right here!” She laughed heartily.
    “Oh,” I said, setting my glasses back in place. “Oh, there you are! You must have been tricking me! Now, let’s see.” She giggled, a faint snort mixed in.
    I got close to Brianne, as if to perform an inspection. “It looks like you have two arms and, yep, looks like you’ve got two feet too! And there’s a pretty face on your neck.” She chortled again.
    “So I promise you, Miss Brianne, you are going to be alright. It might take a long time, much longer than we want it to. Those cancer cells are meanie booger monsters, aren’t they?”
    She nodded in affirmation, still giggling.
    “Well we’re gonna get rid of all of those meanie booger monsters. So can I give you a shot with magic medicine in it?”