I was at a diner one night with a friend, who had just been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.
As I ate my fill, the waitress asked if I wanted anything special.
What if it was my favorite dish?
I didn’t want to be rude, but I didn’st know how she would react.
The next day, I asked her why she had asked, and she told me she thought I was trying to be kind.
It made me sad, but then I thought of the waitress.
Her face was a mess of emotion and I was starting to think I’d have to go through the same thing again.
This is how it works when you’re sick.
The only way to find out what you really need is to ask for it.
And that’s exactly what I did.
When I finally asked the waitress what I wanted, she looked up at me with such concern and said, “Oh my God, I don’t know.”
I was so shocked and angry at the idea that she might not know.
I felt as though she might be missing something big and important that could have saved my life.
She didn’t need to know that I had been suffering from the rare and life-threatening form of leukemia, she just needed to know I was there.
When the restaurant manager saw that I was struggling to understand her, he apologized profusely.
But I was determined not to apologize for the pain she had caused me.
And I was willing to let her know that the worst thing that could happen to me was if I left the restaurant without asking for what I was craving.
I decided to do just that, so I took a bite out of my burger.
It was a delicious burger.
The waitress thanked me profuseally for helping her.
I was ready to leave.
But when I asked what I would like to eat next, she smiled and said that I could have a salad.
I nodded and ate my salad.
But it wasn’t the salad I wanted.
It wasn’t what I had wanted.
I had asked for a burger, but she didn’t have any.
She wasn’t sure if it would be okay for me to eat the burger without a salad, but if I had to choose between two food choices, I chose the salad.
She told me that she could always make another one, but that it would probably take a few days.
I took the salad and headed back to the restaurant.
And when I came back a few hours later, the salad had been served and was on the table.
I went to the counter and asked for it and she handed me a small plate.
She said, ‘Thank you very much, my dear friend.
I can’t believe it.’
I had just asked for an avocado and a slice of pizza.
When she took the plate, I had never been more thankful.
I would never ask for anything in my life that wasn’t there.
I couldn’t have asked for more.
The moment I was sick and I needed the help, I would be grateful for whatever help I could get.
What I found when I was diagnosed with leukemia was a simple fact: I don’ t deserve to be sick.
I never asked for any kind of help, but when it came to my health, I felt I was being treated as a second-class citizen.
I’ve seen how people try to tell people that their cancer is going to go away.
It won’t, of course, but there are some who say that their leukemia will go away in their lifetime, and I can see why.
When you have a rare and potentially fatal disease like leukemia, there is a lot of uncertainty.
But there is also a lot to be thankful for.
When people tell you that you are not special, you are in luck.
When they tell you to be grateful, they are telling you that they have nothing to be ashamed of.
I am grateful that people love me.
That I can go through this pain.
And it has helped me to learn how to embrace and love myself.
What I would have done differently: I would not have called her out about my inability to eat my meal.
I could easily have been aghast at the thought of her asking me for my order.
I have to be honest with myself: I could probably eat a burger without even asking.
But the more I thought about it, the more frustrated I got.
If I had actually asked for the food, I might have had the courage to ask.
I know that this might sound harsh.
But if I was a person who could never be hungry and would never be able to get up and walk around without a smile, I wouldn’t be able really to say thank you for the burger, or for all the time I spent eating.
But then again, I have never been sick and have never asked to be served a meal.
My only wish was to have someone give me the opportunity to smile at my dinner table.
Why I decided