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I’m not a superstitious person. Friday the 13th is just another day. Black cats are adorable. Despite their popularity when I was a wee thing in the seventies, I never owned a rabbit’s foot. One good luck charm I do have faith in, however, is the Lucky Shirt.

The Lucky Shirt is a Polo Ralph Lauren button-down, the “Blake” style, whatever that means. My husband, Charlie, wears button-downs and khakis every day to work, and he discovered the luck of the shirt when he noticed he was wearing it the day he got a promotion. We joked about it, attributing our good fortune to the shirt.

Less than a year later, I was diagnosed with cancer and scheduled for brain surgery. Charlie, feeling we could use all the good mojo we could get, wore the lucky shirt the day of my surgery. When I came through with flying colors, the lucky shirt officially became the Lucky Shirt. The shirt now hangs apart from the others in the closet, and it is only worn on occasions when especially good luck is needed. Charlie wore the shirt for my subsequent two neurosurgeries and always wears it for my periodic MRIs, too. It hasn’t let us down yet.

Yes, logically I know that what shirt Charlie wears has no bearing whatsoever on the outcome of medical procedures. But I don’t care. Seeing him in that shirt makes me feel better, and it steels my resolve. Me, Charlie, and the Lucky Shirt can get through anything.