If you find yourself in a cancer doc’s office anytime soon, see if you can find the latest copy of Coping with Cancer magazine (the July/August 2010 issue). Then turn to page 28, and you’ll find me staring back at you!
Thanks to this very blog, I was given the opportunity to write for Coping. My story is called, “Blogging Cancer: How and why to start blogging.” I wish I could lead you to an online version, but there isn’t one, so you’ll have to read it the old-fashioned way.
Image: 1in8 Project
1 in 8 women will get breast cancer.
If you are 1, and you’d like to share your story through words and images, visit the 1 in 8 Project website.
Just click on Get Involved to proceed.
You can also “like” Timothi Jane Graham Photography on Facebook for a peek into Timothi’s fascinating world. Timothi, a cervical cancer survivor, is the woman behind this empowering venture.
She is only 16.
And she’s fighting leukemia.
If prayer is a part of your life, please say one for Emily.
This morning I had the realization that I am pumping poison into my own body.
Poison that can cause hair loss, sickness, joint pain, kidney problems, blood clots, bruising, chest pain, mouth sores, eye problems and much more.All of this is in order to save my life.
My precious little life.I’m just a kid who has not even begun to experience all that there is.
I’m waiting.
Waiting to explore, experience and live. LIFE. My life.Sounds melodramatic, doesn’t it. It’s not. It’s my reality. Mine and thousands of people like me. Which is the saddest thing.
That’s why this blog is so amazing to me.
Knowing that I have hundreds of people fighting with me, every step of the way is just incredible.So lets keep on fighting!
emilyscancerblog.blogspot.com
This blog is about me, but it’s about so many others, too, and that’s why I write to ask you to take a moment to visit Emily over at Emily’s Cancer Blog.
Emily has only been blogging since this past Monday, and this would be a really good time to start following her. You see, Emily has just been diagnosed with leukemia, and she will begin chemotherapy on Tuesday. She will also turn 16 on Tuesday.
I’m thinking Emily could use some well wishes, some prayers, some words of wisdom, so if you could help hold her hand just a little bit, I’m sure she’d really, really appreciate it.
On Emily’s behalf, I thank you.
Thank you, Sue!
Every year, I get a package of snazzy breast cancer gear delivered right to my door, and today is great day, because my 2010 goodies just arrived — all the way from Nevada. That’s where my aunt lives, and each year at about this time, she goes to Aspen to participate in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure extravaganza. She wears a sign announcing that she’s running for me, and after she runs her butt off in my honor, she heads home and boxes up the goods she gets, then she mails them off to me. See all that loot above? That’s the stuff — a bag, a t-shirt, a pen, a pin, a Ford Warriors in Pink scarf, and more.
This year, my aunt asked me if I still wanted the packages. She wondered if maybe they are just reminders of all I’ve been through, and perhaps I don’t want to continue being reminded. I told her, without pause, that I do still want the gifts, because not only are they fun to use and share and save, they are the perfect reminder — not of what I’ve been through, but of how far I’ve come. You see, each time that box of treasures lands on my front porch, it screams out that I’ve survived for another year. And besides, there’s no avoiding reminders, no matter what anyone does or doesn’t do. I have a port scar, lumpectomy scars, radiation tattoos, a wacky chemo-induced sun/skin condition, and different hair. Yea, I don’t think there’s any real way to avoid the hints that cancer has rocked my world.
The message here: I love the gifts, I want the gifts, and by all means, send me gifts whenever you feel the urge!
Congrats, Kathy!
Sometimes, things happen just as they should.
Like yesterday, when I chose the random winner in my latest giveaway for the book Healing with Words: A Writer’s Cancer Journey, and the name Kathy C. came up.
I didn’t know much about Kathy, just that she wrote this comment to enter herself in the contest:
This sounds like a very inspiring book! I am currently battling the breast cancer dragon, and have tried to be consistent with journaling. This book sounds like just what I need to keep me motivated. Thanks for featuring it on your blog today!
I learned more last night, after informing Kathy of her good fortune, and reading her e-mail response:
I have had an especially “trying” day of managing chemo side effects today, so this is an unexpected blessing!
And now I know, Kathy was meant to win this prize. It may have been the very thing that turned her day around, and when she holds that new book in her hands, and she starts putting it to use, it could just smooth out the rough spots in what’s left on her road to recovery.
Yep, sometimes things happen just as they should. Enjoy your book, Kathy!
Photo: eren | thisvintagechica, Flickr
I have survived breast cancer for 5 years.
I have survived enjoyed marriage for 15.
Really, it has been a pleasure. I just wanted to use that nifty strike-through feature. Cool, isn’t it?
Happy anniversary, John. Thank you for taking the time to muddle through life with me.
I love you.
Diana M. Raab has written a book that you might want to get your hands on. I’ll tell you about it, but first, here’s a bit about her:
Photo: www.dianaraab.com
Diana is the type of person who does everything in a big way. She earned three degrees: an undergraduate degree in Health Administration and Journalism, an RN, and a MFA. She has three wonderful children, despite high risk pregnancies, and she wrote eight books and has won as many writing awards. Also, she is currently launching two babies at once: her most recent book, “Healing with Words: A Writer’s Cancer Journey“ and her daughter’s wedding in the same month. And although Diana spent 25 years focusing on medical and self-help writing, she has also penned memoirs and poetry.
Photo: www.dianaraab.com
And now, about the book:
Diana’s latest book reflects her experiences battling breast cancer at age 47 and then multiple myeloma, a type of bone marrow cancer, when she was 52. The book is part practical advice (she is a nurse, after all) and part inspiration, which takes the form of poems, journal entries, and friendly thoughts. To show readers the effect of healing writing, Diana also includes blank sections and writing prompts so readers can contribute their own thoughts and writings. Diana describes her daily journal writing as “a daily vitamin-healing, detoxifying and essential for optimal health.”
Great news: Diana will be stopping by to read this post today, so if you have any questions for her, please leave them in the comments, and she will respond. And she is offering you a chance to score her newest book. Yep, another giveaway, and here’s all you need to do to enter:
Here’s a quick on-line survey for those of you who were diagnosed with cancer under the age of 40, and who would like to share some thoughts about the use of mobile and Web-based technologies for coping and complying with cancer treatments.
Sponsored by the Adolescent and Young Adult Cancer Advisory Board, UC Davis Cancer Center.
No identifying information will be obtained and participation implies consent.
And by quick, I mean it only takes a couple of minutes.
Photo: "passamanerie", Flickr
It’s got to be one of the hardest things about cancer — hair loss! And I know my friend is hating the idea of being bald, just like most of us do, but still, she is handling it with such grace. Her technique: she cut her very long hair very short in anticipation of the big fallout. I like her approach, which is so totally different than mine.
I kept my very long hair around until the very last moment. I think I wanted so badly to not lose it, that I fought back by making not one single preparation. Silly me. The docs and nurses and every other breast cancer survivor I’d met told me it would happen, plus pretty much exactly when it would happen (about day 11-16 after the first chemo treatment), and still, I crossed my fingers tight and hoped like mad that I’d be the exception. And on the day of my second chemo dose (day 14), I wore a hat on my head to hold each hair in its place — it was starting to fall out in clumps, wash away in the shower, and it was pulling so hard on my head it hurt — when I should have accepted the inevitable and surrendered. I did surrender that night — cut off three ponytails, and handed the clippers to my husband and 4-year-old, who shaved while I cried — but only because I could no longer hold onto the hair I so desperately did not want to lose.
My friend has accepted the inevitable, and I love that about her!
How did you handle your hair loss?
Photo: One in a Million
My boys have summer journals, and they’re writing every few days to keep their skills sharp for the 2nd and 4th grades. I’ve been writing along with them, because I want to show them I’m not afraid of a little summer work, and well, because, writing makes me happy, and it helps me process all of life’s twists and turns. And that’s sort of what I wrote about today in my black and white composition book — getting through the ups and downs, and cutting down on stress.
My essay turned out to be a list, and here are 12 of my ideas for finding peace. Might want to try a few if you’re searching for a little calm.
Gosh, it’s hard to stop at just 12.
Would love to hear your ideas — if you share, I’ll add them to my list.
Mammogram is done.
So is my uncertainty.
Everything is good.
Next up: MRI in November.
Photo: waterrose, Flickr
I’m not sure how my birthday and my annual mammogram ended up sharing the same week, but gosh, how bad is that going to be if something fishy turns up the day after the happy occasion of turning another year older? Yikes. Everything turned out A-OK last year (mammo the day before my birthday), so fingers crossed the pattern continues.
This morning, my boobies will endure the ceremonial flattening (think Jack Black, plus a lot more skin), and I can only hope that I return to announce that they are just fine and dandy.
Pretty blue robe, here I come.
Photo: Temari 09, Flickr
The American Cancer Society folks claim to be the official sponsor of birthdays. Well, if they are, I thank them for sending another one my way.
Today, I get to face 40 candles — well, I’m not sure anyone is really going to top my strawberry shortcake with that much wax and fire, but somehow, with some configuration of candles, I’m going to be closing my eyes, wishing hard, and blowing out little flickers of light.
And my wish?
Simple.
I want to see be around to see 41 candles next year. That’s all.
