Jamie promised to leave the information in my mailbox when she ran back to get her things. "You go on and get home. You need some sleep, girl."

We hugged. I was almost afraid to let her go. At work, Jamie was my Millionaire lifeline: my phone-a-friend, ask the audience, 50-50 (except that she was more a 100 percenter.) We both started to cry.

When you work in an environment where people teeter on the brink of death on a daily basis, you either become very close to your coworkers or you go it alone. In this case, we'd become close. Despite that closeness, we hadn't thought about email or phone numbers. I mean, we had the same schedule. We saw each other all the time!

Jamie and I continued our "I'll miss yous" for a couple more minutes, laughing and crying.

As we finally let go, I reminded her to leave the email address. When I returned to work a few days later, I found she had left it in my mailbox, crammed seven pieces of paper with it through the slots on my locker, and had posted it in big, bold letters on the bulletin board. I laughed my ass off. It was so "her."

It was only a day or two later when I hurt my back. After my trip to the emergency department, I didn't even think to go back to my unit to get anything. I was in too much pain. The few times I stopped in after doctor appointments, I thought only of getting home, applying heat, and taking a pain pill.

Needless to say, Jamie and I had fallen out of touch because her email address was sitting at work in my mailbox. Tonight, I kick myself for allowing that to happen. I feel like I missed 6+ months of telling my friend how grateful I was for her mentoring and friendship, how much I respected and admired her. And now, the opportunity is lost.

My friend Jamie was one of Katrina's victims.

To all the rescue workers, doctors, and nurses who have had to remain on the scene in the Gulf Coast, thank you. To all relief workers headed out there to help, thank you. And please, be safe.

Please take a moment to dig through the cushions on the sofa or under the seats in the car. Gather up all that change and donate to the relief effort.