I couldn’t have asked for more supportive friends and family. The morning after my surgery, the phone began ringing at 8:30 a.m. that morning with a call from my grandparents asking how I was feeling. I felt like crap, but they didn’t need to know that. I told them I had taken some Advil and felt much better. I was getting call waiting. I hung up with them and clicked over. It was Tony, one of my best friends from high school. He called to tell me that he’d heard about what was happening and was beginning to plan a fundraiser party in my honor to benefit the American Cancer Society. Most people didn’t know what to say or how to be supportive and helpful. His idea of throwing a party was perfect because it showed support and friendship without being intrusive. Next call was from my friend Molly, in DC. She was calling to tell me that she was flying in for my first chemotherapy appointment whenever that was. Her mother had recently been through breast cancer. I have to say that I really lucked out with such incredible and supportive friends and I don’t know how I would have managed without them.

The phone kept ringing througout the day I was tired of repeating the same story over and over again. I felt like I had to be strong for all of them and not let them know how frightened I really was. I wanted to protect them because I knew they were probably as scared as I was. I also hated the idea of people feeling badly for me and didn’t want to be a charity case.

I also needed to learn to take care of myself rather than worry about taking care of everyone else first. It was draining to assure people that everything would be fine. I had no idea if things would be OK or not. Liz picked up several times and spoke to family or friends who called saying that I was sleeping. Finally we decided to turn off the ringer. But before doing that, we composed a message for my answering machine saying, “If you want to leave a message for Asha, press 1. If you want to know how she is feeling, press 2. If you want to know what her treatment plan will be, press 3.

My mom started booking my calendar, letting me know which weekends people wanted to visit me. The last thing I wanted is people flying to visit me in New York and feeling like I had to entertain them. “I can’t have people coming in all the time. I don’t have the energy for it. Can’t they cancel?” I begged my mom. This is when we decided to create a web site. (http://www.ashamevlana.com/ashastory.htm) On the web site, I would document my experiences. Family and friends could find out how I was doing without being intrusive. The amount of calls I was getting was already stressing me out. I knew this stress was not good for my body, in fact I suspected it probably caused the cancer in the first place. I had no time or energy to call all these people back, nor did I want to explain the exact same story to each one of them. I needed all the strength I could muster to get healthy.

This is not to say I didn’t appreciate the calls. I did because it meant that people cared about me. If I didn’t have that support, I wouldn’t have been able to get through it. However I was inundated beyond the point being able to manage it. The calls I most appreciated were the ones who left messages saying, “I know you’re probably getting a lot of calls so don’t worry about getting back to me. I just want to let you know I’m thinking about you and if you need anything at all, please let me know. It would be my honor to help you in any way I can.” This way, I didn’t have to worry about calling them back if I didn’t want to talk.