My best friend Cindy was enjoying her vacation in Bermuda. Clad in her beachwear, she ate dinner with her roommate and chatted away about how beautiful the beach was that day, how the seagulls soared in flight, and how this vacation should never end.

She lamented returning home to Pennsylvania and to the routine of her business the next day.

Across the room, an elderly, wheelchair-bound woman began to choke. Her family and friends were horrified, becoming increasingly panicky, and shouted for assistance.

Though the woman's daughter was a nurse, and was sitting next to her, she had become paralyzed with fear and could not respond as she had been trained to do. By now the woman had turned purple. This was clearly a life-and-death situation.

Cindy rushed to the table to assist the woman, who was now on the floor. A tiny 100-pound woman, Cindy took charge and shouted, "Lift her up so I can get my arms around her!" The woman's relatives reacted appropriately, and Cindy was finally able to get her arms around the plump lady. Barely able to hook her wrist with her opposite hand, it was still awkward, and she was not certain that she could get enough leverage to perform the Heimlich Maneuver.

She stretched and thrust, over and over again, pulling in and up, as she had been instructed. Finally, the mischievous lump of meat hurled up the woman's throat, flew from her mouth, and shot across the room so fast that the passive onlookers were startled.

As she began to breathe again, her face regained its normal color. She was saved. The crisis was over.

Cindy was greatly relieved as the woman's daughter began apologizing for her meltdown. What had begun as a leisurely dinner in paradise turned into a frightening dance with death. With such levels of adrenaline pumping in everyone, it was a while before the restaurant slowly returned to normalcy. A flutter of conversation ensued as the families exchanged names and addresses -- for this was a night to remember.

Sore from the intense physical pounding and thrusting, Cindy went to her hotel room to rest and prepare to leave for home the next day. When she awoke the next morning, she noticed much soreness on her arms and her wrists were bruised. Something else had appeared. Underneath her left breast was a large golf ball-sized lump. Where did that come from? Some time during the heaving, a lump was jostled to the surface of the fascia layer of muscle in her chest.

Upon arriving home, Cindy called her doctor and was in his office by the end of the day. He examined her and sent her immediately for tests. The news was startling and swift -- a fully self-contained cancerous breast tumor was present within a pupa gland. It was cancer and if that news wasn't bad enough, there was another small one in the other breast.

The doctor helped her decide, but it was clear what was necessary. She must have a full double mastectomy. The good news was that the cancer had not spread, and due to its location, was not expected to require any additional treatment such as chemotherapy or radiation.

I made a visit to my good friend as she recovered from surgery, and we laughed as we had done for many years. She said it had been quite a week.

My pride was overwhelming, of this modest, brave person, who thought nothing of rushing to the aid of a stranger, to help in any way. Had she hesitated for another minute, a life would have been lost. And in retrospect, her life may have been lost as well.

Were it not for the troublesome piece of meat in Bermuda, Cindy would not have saved the woman's life, and the woman would not have in turn saved Cindy's life.

Life is such a mystery.