A place where this world and the next meet

To say that today was tough is beyond an understatement.

Chelsey Horne was a young woman of incomparable strength and immeasurable resilience. For over four years, she fought melanoma. I had a front row seat for much of her struggle as her boyfriend, but I know that the most difficult part of her journey occurred in the time since we parted ways. To say that her last year, medically speaking, was hard would be a diservice to the will and determination that she and her family showed to defeating a formidable opponent.

At 1:26 am, on June 13, 2011, Chelsey Horne departed this world.

She left behind a monumental trail of inspiration, hope, and love. Her friends and family are an undying testament to her fight and her strength. She was universally adored by everyone she came into contact with, and I can speak volumes personally to the positive impact she had on my life, as well as the lives of those around her.

Chelsey was a stellar camp counselor to fellow diabetics in the mountains of California. She could tell you what wedding colors would be best when you walked into the Marina Paper Source. She was a sounding board, a confidant, and a treasured ally, a loyal friend to the end. She was a young woman of incomparable talents that could never be boiled down to a few sentences to describe her legacy.

Since the news broke, I have been on a roller coaster. My friends and family have commiserated and sent their condolences and I wish so much to send those along to the people that truly deserve them. Those who were with Chelsey to the end, her friends and family that she cherished SO much, deserve every ounce of sympathy, kind thoughts, and respect that I have gotten. I don't want any of it because it all belongs to them. I deserve none.

I surrounded myself with friends tonight to keep my mind distracted, to talk to people I haven't talked to in awhile, to see how they are doing. All of it in order to not focus on the task at hand. To belay the mourning. To leave it for a day when I can handle it. When I'm not tired, run down, exhausted, and unable to handle the emotions. And that was a fool's errand.

While it is hard to see the positives on such a heart-breaking day, I know that Chelsey's positive energy and indomitable spirit will always be with those she touched, and I know it will always be with me.

I went to hang out with friends tonight, to distract myself and focus on something besides the forefront. And amongst my friends, one of them pulled me aside and related a story about a friend from his past who had also lost a struggle with cancer and the impact this had on his life. He told me that this is the reason we do what we do. As doctors-in-training, we will one day fight this "good fight" and be able to take these negative experiences in our life and use them to do the most benefit. That these moments, as horrible as they are at the time, will one day serve the common good.

While it is hard to see the forest for the trees, so to speak, I stood outside my apartment for some time after I got home tonight. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts and memories. And as I stood outside with no discernable direction or agenda, my friend's words came back to me. I thought about the truth in them and the strength with which Chelsey and all other cancer patients fight day in and day out.

I didn't know what I was doing, particularly. I didn't know what I was waiting for, or if I was even waiting for something. But something happened.

As I stood there, deep in contemplation, a strong wind began to blow through the trees. It was impossible to think of it any other way than I did. I felt her presence in that wind. It was a cool breeze. A breath of fresh air and rejuvenation. As I stood there, I was engulfed in this gentle air. I considered my friend's eyes on the future while being ensnared by the true emotions of the present. And in that moment, I couldn't help but smile. It was the first true smile since...

I smiled because I knew that my friend was right, and Chelsey was agreeing. To me, that wind was Chelsey's approval. It was her telling me that everything was going to be all right, even if it takes a long time. That my future was set and that some day, I would be able to use this pain to help others. And above all, Chelsey would want that. Perhaps this is self-indulgent, even selfish. But I know one thing. That wind was truth, a truth that can never be replicated, never imitated, never bettered.

In a word, that wind was:

REBIRTH