03/18/2026
I went to chemo with a friend. She knew I would love Stanford Hospital—and I did. It’s quiet and deliberate, like a museum, full of art, people, and unexpected peace. (Dog day: I met a golden retriever named Happy.)
Amber showed me around—gift shop, bakery, the best latte, healthy café options, library books, the fountain outside. We wandered, talking about women in science, the rainbow we saw earlier, the going back to school dreams (me!), the “what ifs” of life.
It would have been easy for her to dread the day, to get caught in the “why me” of it all, especially as this is the third time around for her. But we didn’t. She didn’t. We bought cake, hugged, and laughed.
I thought of this mushroom I found perched on a dog-p**p container a few weeks back (…stay with me here). It was perfectly imperfect—intricate and lovely, just waiting for someone to notice it. It felt like it was placed there for me.
Then I thought, maybe this mushroom a metaphor for life. The world is on fire, yet good things, good people and so much beauty is still there if we take notice—if we stop digging through the box of p**p and look for the mushroom on top.
…ORRR maybe it’s just a mushroom on a box of p**p box. Something to think about, anyway.
Thank you for the day, Amber. I love you 💕
