“Let's go to Gayle's,” my husband said as we left the Biopsy Clinic of the Breast Center. We had just heard the dreaded news: the lump was indeed cancerous. Thus began a ritual of stops at Gayle's after each appointment with oncologists and surgeons. A mastectomy revealed cancerous nodes. A long year of chemotherapy and radiation was followed by months of injections for my sagging blood cell count. Often I could only drink a cup of tea -- but the warmth and vitality of life at Gayle's buoyed us up and gave us strength. Recently, we heard the good news from my oncologist: “Congratulations!, you have made it through five years. I don't need to see you for six months.” Of course, we went to Gayle's to celebrate.