The Associated Press Reports

June 26, 2008, Raleigh, NC. The Associated Press reports: “Thanks to some text message-savvy grandchildren, North Carolina drivers whose license plates have the potentially offensive "WTF" letter combination can replace the tags for free.”

Now you have to understand that I am 48 years old, so I was almost 45 when the above made the news. I am just young enough to adapt to and use technology as it develops. However, I am just old enough to not be able to keep up. While I have friends and colleagues ten years older than myself who can create websites, use computer programming language and are quite tech-savvy there are those of us who use computers and technology as a tool. My philosophy is simple. It should just work. I can barely navigate Facebook so you can imagine that I rarely “text” (though I’m beginning to do more of it lately) let alone understand all the short-hand lingo of the era. I read the whole article off FoxNews.com several times and still did not understand what “WTF” meant. I asked my husband. Now that I know, I cannot get the phrase out of my head. It can be so useful.

My friend KMJ uses what my grandmother would call “colorful language” on her blog. But it is tasteful, in context and clearly expresses her current thoughts and feelings. She taught me a new word and I really like it. It starts with the letter “F.” It is so handy and descriptive.

I went through a lot during the first two years after diagnosis. Since then I’ve processed what happened and am moving into “acceptance.” There was very little anger, but when I think of all I went through from diagnosis, chemotherapy, radiation and then a second surgical biopsy I sometimes think: WTF.

Anger can be destructive. It can also be very powerful and wonderfully healing. WTF.

What fresh hell is this? – Dorothy Parker

 

Jackson Browne

Last night I heard this song on the radio. I was reminded of a friend who once quoted me a Jackson Browne lyric. (I think it was in an email). At the time, the quote made me think of the boy I once knew and I felt as if he were sitting next to me, reading me poetry.

Good music is like that. We understand the notes, the words, the magic. The classics, like Mozart and Handel speak to my heart. Country and folk music tell a story. For me, jazz is happy music. And even pop culture or rock music can take me to a place that is worlds away. It’s poetry in sound.

May you find poetry in the music.

Think Pink

I follow a number of blogs. Some for fun. Some because they are written by a friend. And some because the author writes about issues related to breast cancer. Some who blog about breast cancer have a strong opposition to the pink October, buy pink ribbon products, breast cancer awareness propaganda. While I follow a blog entitled “But Doctor, I Hate Pink,” I actually don’t hate the color. In fact, pink has been my favorite color for as long as I can remember.

However, I am not here to write about the preference of one color over another. Rather, I’d like my friends who object to the pink ribbon campaign to consider another perspective. I agree that the “awareness” campaign can go too far and therefore lose meaning. We’ve all read in the news how buying a product with a pink ribbon does not mean that the company that put the ribbon on their product is going to donate millions of dollars to breast cancer research. Also, I think the NFL was a bit over the top this past October. First, there was too much pink. Second, it was the wrong shade. I appreciate the sentiment behind the “support,” but I’d rather that the owners of each NFL team donate 100% of their October profits to a hospital, clinic or research facility in their home state. It is the financial support that makes the difference.

Now getting back to my “please don’t hate the pink ribbon campaign” message, which is the real reason I am writing this. I’d like to say, please do not dismiss the work of foundations and nationally recognized research hospitals. As you know, I support the Avon Foundation. I walk in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. (This year’s destination city is San Francisco). When I first decided to walk for fundraising and awareness my co-captain and I did our research. I had already researched the different foundations that support breast cancer research, support services and education. In fact, I had researched them several years before I was diagnosed as a result of being asked to donate to several fundraising efforts of friends. I wanted to know where my money was going. In researching the different foundations and trusts I realized that if I were to ever become involved with a foundation, it would be Avon. So when my friend and fellow walker suggested a walk in memory of our school-mate I already knew how each foundation spent its money.

Yes, a portion of the funds raised via the Avon Walk go back to the foundation itself to pay the expenses associated with the walk. While the Avon Foundation receives much of its support for the Walk through corporate sponsors who donate materials, the generosity of the host cities and numerous volunteers there are still costs associated with the Walk. (I am always impressed by the delicious and healthy food that is prepared and donated by local restaurants). However, what is most important is that 80% of the funds raised are given out as grants to local hospitals, clinics and organizations that do research and provide services to patients and their families. The other 20% goes toward underserved areas across the country. This past year, one of the grants was given to the University of Maryland, Baltimore where they are researching treatments for triple negative breast cancer. As a survivor of triple negative breast cancer I was thrilled to learn that some of the money I helped raise will go to this effort.

The Avon Foundation is not the only nationally recognized organization to think about. Dana Farber and St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital, along with the Mayo Clinic and others have worked hard and contributed significantly to both research and treatments for cancer. Without them we would not have the current treatments available that are saving lives every day.

I also advocate for giving locally. There is an annual fundraising walk for the North Shore Cancer Center, which is where I received my radiation treatments. I know many women who have received all of their treatments through the Cancer Center. It is important to me to support such a facility so that others may receive care and treatment that is local and convenient.

In some ways, the pink ribbon campaign has lost its meaning. However, it is a reminder of how far we’ve come in terms of treatment and education. It is also a reminder to think about charitable giving. If you don’t have an annual plan, think about giving. And research where you would like your dollars spent. But please, don’t hate these reminders that there are women and men who are struggling with a horrible disease. It is through the generous giving of national foundations that we have new and better treatments every year.

January 11, 2008

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers,

for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

~ Hebrews 13:2 (ESV)

Today I encountered an angel. Yes, there are many times that God has used people I know to send me a message, but this was a true angel.

I had lunch with the women from the Enrollment Division. It was not the usual crowd. Toward the end of lunch I shared with Jenn and Nancy the blessings I’ve received and the lessons God has been teaching me about letting people in. God has shown me His love and support through those around me. God is not going to come down in robes of white, flashes of light, and a big halo. It is through the people in my life that I experience His grace.

These were the thoughts I shared with Jenn and Nancy. As we were leaving the cafeteria we heard a voice. “Excuse me ma’am.” We stopped, thinking it was someone who needed help or directions to an office. It was a woman in a brightly colored blouse who had gone unnoticed during our lunch. She said, “I could not help but overhear your conversation at lunch.” I thought she had her own story to share. Instead she continued, “I want you to have this book.” She handed me Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.

I have never seen this woman before – and I know most of our students. I never did ask her name. Will I ever see her again? Could she afford to give away a book that obviously means something to her?

I asked my companions if they knew her. Neither had ever seen her before. Nancy commented on the random act of kindness. Jenn commented on coincidence and the universe. I called it fate; and an angel from God to give a gift.

Angels in Oncology

What can I write about oncology? In so many ways it is unique and individual. I had my first treatment on Wednesday, December 26. The day after Christmas. I could write about that first day; that first treatment. I could write about the preparation and the post-care. I could write about the needle in the back of my left hand and watching the drugs drip into me; waiting to see if there would be an allergic reaction. But all those things are meaningless without the Angels.

My doctor. She is a scientist, a healer, and a compassionate, caring soul. There is supposed to be a professional detachment between doctors and patients. I don’t believe that is possible if a doctor really cares about their profession. No, I don’t go to her house during the holidays and we don’t exchange birthday presents. But through it all I watched as she cared for me and others. She laughed at my jokes and answered our questions. She is personable and knows about my life outside of the doctor’s office. She works hard for her patients and is researching ways to prevent breast cancer recurrence. I am impressed by her willingness to share this part of her life with me.

Lauren. Lauren is a nurse practitioner. I met Lauren while she was still working on her Master’s Degree. I asked her why oncology? She said that she is specifically concerned for women with breast cancer and wanted to focus her career on breast health. She has no personal connection with breast cancer, yet feels called to care for us. She spends her time asking medical history questions, answering concerns that arise, and reassuring the scared and anxious that together, we will get through this.

Elaine. Elaine is a volunteer. She wanders the oncology ward stopping to ask patients if they need anything. She brings crackers, and ginger ale, and ice cream. Over the weeks and my subsequent visits she shares her story with me. She is also a breast cancer survivor. She had all of her treatments right there at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center. Now she spends every Wednesday as a volunteer; giving back to the hospital that helped save her life. I nicknamed her the Ice Cream Angel.

Myrielle. Myrielle is an oncology nurse. She was the nurse assigned to me. There is very strict protocol when it comes to the handling and administration of chemotherapy drugs so the nurses work in pairs. But Myrielle was the one to prep. me and watch over me to make sure everything was going well. She is also very happy. I asked her once why she was so happy all the time; especially working in oncology. Her response, “Because I am happy and I want to share that happiness with you and the other patients. You need happiness and hope. And at the end of the day I get to go home and count my blessings.” Myrielle is still there and she is still happy.

These are my Angels in oncology. And I am thankful they were sent to me in my time of need.

Christmastime is Here

The Christmas season makes me a little sad. Five years ago I was in the darkest place imaginable, during a time that is supposed to be filled with happiness and light. I had just had surgery and was finishing my law school studies while recovering. Additionally, I was meeting with my surgeon for post-surgery follow-up and my oncologist to plan my next phase of treatment. I found myself keeping quiet. It was difficult to share with others what was happening to me. I wanted to keep it to myself; get through it all and just move on. When I thought that I could go through chemotherapy without anyone knowing I knew I was in trouble.

My oncologist wanted to start chemotherapy as soon as possible after my surgeon gave the ok. My first treatment was December 26.

So as I reflect on that time in my life I remember the darkness; the feeling of being alone. And yet I was not alone. My husband was by my side every step of the way, keeping silent vigil. I knew in my heart that God had a purpose for all of this. My family, friends, classmates and colleagues rallied in unimaginable ways. I was surrounded by love and devotion.

But Christmas time also brings me great joy. I love the lights, the decorations, the music, and getting together with friends and family.

And I am reminded of another scared and lonely woman facing her darkest hour. Whether Christ’s birth occurred in December or at another time of year, the story is the same. A scared, pregnant woman who faces the darkness of being shunned by family, friends and society. Who has to leave her home due to government regulations and taxation. Yet by her side is the man who is her husband; unfaltering in such a horrible climate. She knows that there is a purpose for her life and in her circumstances. God has promised joy beyond what is happening to her right here and now. She has been granted grace to carry on, knowing that there is a reason for this season in her life.

We all know the story, and we can all relate. Because Mary's story is our story.

In the Beginning

Some blogs have themes. Some blogs are personal reflection. My blog is a story of healing and hope. The intent is to share my story. Upon reflection, it seems that it is the story of who I am today. However, my history comes through and the purpose is to share it with you in hopes that you find inspiration in the grace that I have been given.

A co-worker of mine believes that it is always best to start at the beginning, so I am going to try that. Over the next several weeks I will share my story of five years ago. Five years is a long time, so I will rely on a journal I kept, my memory and my current reflections of the past. I guess I could say that my story started in October 2007, but really it started before then. I just didn’t know it at the time.

When I was 35 I had a base-line mammogram. Everything seemed alright and I did not have another until the age of 40. At 40, and each following year, I dutifully fulfilled my obligation to have a mammogram. Each year I had a second mammogram followed by an ultrasound only to be told that I had a cyst and should cut down on the caffeine. Until the age of 43. At 43 I started with my annual physical only to have my doctor send me for an ultrasound. The ultrasound resulted in a visit to a surgeon who ordered a mammogram and biopsy. None of it was real. There was no history of breast cancer in my family. Even when the surgeon told me I had breast cancer I said, “No I don’t.”

After those initial appointments my life became a blur. We decided to get a second opinion in Boston. My initial surgeon was supportive and only asked that if I chose a different treatment team to please let her know so that she would not wonder what had happened to me. We decided to go with the Boston team.

There are some things that I have learned, both from the initial diagnosis and treatment, as well as subsequent reflection. It is important:

·         To choose a treatment plan, team and location that is best for you. The last thing you need is additional stress. I have friends who chose their neighborhood hospital and clinic because of their personal relationship with their doctors, as well as the convenience due to family and other obligations. They received the best treatment possible, so you don’t have to travel hours to find the best.

·         Have a Team of doctors. My doctors were all part of a network of hospitals and clinics. As a result, they talked with each other on the phone and they had access to my medical records through the hospital database. They also met together regularly to discuss my case.

·         Remember that you are part of that Team. Ask questions. Give feedback. Make a phone call if something doesn’t seem right.

·         Let others “do” for you. Your friends and family feel helpless. It is important to give them something to do.

·         Embrace love and be open to God. I received blessing upon blessing and continue to see God’s grace in my life through this journey. I truly believe that friends are God’s way of saying “I love you.” (Even strangers provide God’s comfort).

Blessings & Grace to you. Be well.