Everybody's Got Something by Robin Roberts, Veronica Chambers Read Free Book Online Page B

always have each other’s backs. In fact, to celebrate my last chemo treatment, Diane snuck in some Popeye’s chicken for me—she has a knack for knowing exactly what you want. Diane also knew my mind was always racing and so I had a hard time sleeping. She would send me a message late at night and tell me: “You can get some rest, I’ll take it from here, I’m on watch now.”
    My emotions were all over the map. I was scared, angry, confused and even embarrassed. Yes, I said “embarrassed.” How could I have cancer? I prided myself on being health conscious and athletic. Would people think I had done something wrong? Did I think I had done something wrong? A million questions raced through my bewildered mind, and none of them had answers.
    Later answers did come, and the most lasting one came from my mother, who urged me to use my diagnosis to raise awareness about the importance of mammograms and early detection. “Make your mess your message,” Momma liked to say. And I did.
    The video diary that I made of my hairstylist, Petula, shaving my head after chemo started causing my hair to fall out in clumps touched millions of viewers. I had worn a wig on GMA , because I didn’t want my baldness to distract from the stories I was covering. People magazine was about to publish a story about my battle with cancer. The article would include never-before-seen pictures of me bald. I didn’t want GMA viewers to think I had been keeping something from them, that I was ashamed of my bald head. Instead I felt that my baldness and all it represented could become an important part of the story—another way of reaching out to others who had faced cancer. Do you know that some women actually refuse to be treated for fear of losing their hair? In the words of my friend India Arie: “Hey, I am not my hair. I am not this skin. I am a soul that lives within.” I wanted to make a statement that I wasn’t ashamed to have cancer or be bald. I was absolutely stunned by the reaction to my video diary. The outpouring of support was overwhelming.
    Not long after my video diary, I ran into a woman at Bitz-n-Pieces; it’s a wig store in New York. It’s really much more than that. The talented people who work there are like little angels. Many clients are there looking for answers at difficult times in their lives. This particular woman and I were bringing our wigs in for tune-ups. She said I had given her the strength to talk to her friends and her colleagues about her illness. I was thrilled for her, because I knew she was now opening herself up to a source of great comfort. She said she had hidden her illness from them for fear that they would treat her differently. But her friends had seen that I was still able to work, and that gave her the courage to speak openly.
    Midway through my treatments, I was at the White House to do an interview with President Bush’s press secretary, Tony Snow. He had recently revealed he was facing cancer for a second time. While there I was told that the First Lady, Laura Bush, wanted to see me in the private residence for tea. Mrs. Bush has a family history of breast cancer. She personally invited me to accompany her on a portion of an international breast cancer initiative with the Susan G. Komen Foundation, and I couldn’t pass up this opportunity. My doctors cleared me to travel—although getting my mom’s blessing was far more difficult. Remember, I was in the middle of chemo treatments. I spent time with Mrs. Bush in Abu Dhabi and Dubai, in the UAE and in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I met some incredible women on the trip. Breast cancer is the number one killer of women in the UAE. Many succumb because the stigma surrounding the disease in that part of the world prevents them from seeking early detection.
    Cancer forced me out of my comfort zone. But the reality is that in life, there are no true comfort zones. Life comes at us in ways that we can’t predict or control. My breast cancer battle