Tag: cancer

For a Reason

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It’s like a mantra. Things happen for a reason. Things happen for a reason. Things happen for a reason. I know this to be true. We didn’t succeed with the first few houses because they were not ours to have. Something bigger and better lay at the end of Ivy. The timing was all wrong in November. February couldn’t be more perfect. Things happen for a reason.

When my friend decided not to walk the twenty miles for Project Bread. I was not surprised, yet disappointed all the same. It took me a day to think things through. Would I walk without? Would I want to? It took me a week to bail myself out. Things happen for a reason. In reality, walking for hunger is a good cause for someone else. I am wedded to the crusade against cancer and domestic abuse. Been there, done that. Keep doing this. I decided to walk away from the Project Bread walk and find my Just Cause. 60 miles in three days. For breast cancer. This I can do. This I don’t mind doing on my own. I walk for Nor. I walk for me. This is the walk I am meant to walk.

When my friend of 35 years had a heart attack I had mixed emotions. A long history of ups and downs, goods and bads clouded my real emotion – fear. You don’t want people your own age to die. It’s not your time so it shouldn’t be theirs. Butbutbut, things happen for a reason. For the past three months I have wallowed in self indulgences. Since Thanksgiving I have been giving into temptations of every persuasion. Fat and lazy, I have become. When someone told me I looked beautiful I knew it was a lie. A sweet lie, but a lie none the less. I’m heavy. My heart failing friend woke selfish me, myself & moi up. Things happen for a reason. As soon as this house thing happens I am running back to healthy. I swear.

When a good, good friend brought up a painful memory it was hard to face it. Hard to take ownership of it and say yes, I really did do that. It’s unimaginable now, but yes, I really, really did that. Blame game. Pointing you out for no reason other than to strike out. Things happen for a reason. I’m glad you brought up the past and that awful time. I’m still struggling with what happened and more importantly, why butbutbut I’m done burying that past. I can dig it up and say I take responsibility for being so awful to you. I take all the blame for the blame game. It wasn’t you. Never was you. Sorry I said it was you. I’m seeing things better now that I’m so removed.

Bird Song

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Lone dad

It has taken me some time to come to terms with her passing. Doesn’t seem right. More than doesn’t feel fair. I’ll say it yet again – cancer just isn’t fair.
They came to the island as love birds; a dating, doting couple. Binoculars and a sense of biology, they came to the island year after year to love the birds. The years gave way to marriage, kids, property, and a dog. A sense of belonging to the community became so strong the island couldn’t remember a time without them. It was as if they had always been there.
I don’t remember the first time I met her. It was that long ago. I can only remember her as I last saw her four months ago. Feisty and forcing fresh baked cookies on us, she commanded from the couch. Slipping water through a straw she surveyed the world outside her kingdom. A huge picture window afforded her a priceless view. She smiled as she watched a pheasant family creep jauntily through the high grass. Father pheasant’s neck arched and stretched searching for bugs, pecking as he went. His eyes were bright, watchful and wary. He paused as if to say I know you are there and she paused, the glass lifted halfway to her lips, as if her stillness could keep him there.

Binoculars, books and Bean gear. She was always ready for the birds. She kept a journal of the season’s best spyings. A log of feathered friends encountered throughout the seasons. As she grew sicker, too ill to hike her ornithology conquests had to be counted from the couch. Her bird’s eye view of the birds was limited to the ones who came to her big picture window. Mostly it was the pheasants. Soon she could tell us how many families were in the area. How many babies were born that year. Always the pheasants. They became her friends. That is why when I see a family of pheasants I will always think of her.

Meditation Monday

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My sister gave me a book on awareness. At this current moment the book is nowhere near me and I’m too lazy to get it. So, I won’t be telling you the title at this time. But, I’ve added it to my January list of books to read and I will be “reviewing” it in my half-azzed manner.

What got me thinking is the idea of mind over matter. December was an awful month because I let it be. My car was in the shop no less than five times. Ordinarily that wouldn’t be such a big deal. Kisa and I carpool all the time, but it sucked something out of me. A sense of independence was lost. I lost sensibility, too – trying to make plans without transportation was just plan stupid.
We “lost” three houses. Since we never really had them, technically, I’m overreacting. I’m making a big deal out of this real estate game. I’m letting my emotions get the better of me whenever the houses get away. I guess I make it emotional because it seems like we have been losing for so long.  
We lost two friends. That we did. When N died all I could focus on was 49 was too young to die. Her kids are teenagers – at that perfect age when mom just starts to become human, possibly even a friend. I couldn’t get to the point of relief that she was no longer suffering, no longer fighting a decade long battle. When T died all I could focus on was how stupid it is to be alive. Senseless and stupid. I’m angry because I’m selfish.
Death has had me mean. When someone blurted out “he’s just going to die anyway” I wanted to agree, I wanted to say, “I think you’re right” but I couldn’t . You don’t wish death on someone just because the statistics say it’s time. What is time to someone 22, 49 or 92?

December was an awful month for work, too. I vow to give reviews in November next year. To plan better. To direct better. The whining will stop. The whimpering will stop. I had a chance to talk to my boss one on one. He said the sign of a good leader is recognizing exhaustion; knowing when you are dangerously close to your breaking point and need a break. He ordered me to take the entire vacation off and do something a little less “urgent” with the time. It was the best advice someone could give me. He doesn’t need to know I didn’t refuse work from somewhere else!

So now I’ve meditated on most of what bothered me in December. Most of it was out of my control, but I let it get to me just the same. In the process I learned a valuable lesson. Let go. I didn’t send Christmas cards to people who have never sent me one. I’ve given my last gift to someone who never has the decency to say thank you. I’ve let go of superficial signs of sentiment. It’s time to pay attention to what really matters.

Send Me Superman

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I got the call during the worst moment. I was dealing with a bad attitude. I was trying not to deal out a bad attitude just the same. “She died” was all my mother said. For a moment I couldn’t speak. My mouth gaped open, I nearly dropped the phone, the world slowed down and drained away. Silence. She died. Just like that. Mother, wife, friend, neighbor. Gone. Just like that.

Send me Superman to take away this sorrow. Send me Superman to keep me strong. Send them Superman, too. I think of her kids, her husband, her community and hear their hurt loud and clear. Send them every super hero heart to love them during this trying time.

As I Live & Breathe

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img_4234Weisman, Jamie. As I Live and Breathe, notes of a patient-doctor. New York: North Point Press, 2002.

In honor of National Health Month I decided to read As I Live and Breathe. I always find memoirs interesting when the author is more than your average individual. Who doesn’t? Dr. Weisman also has a talent for words which makes her unique story all that more compelling.

Dr. Jamie Weisman is a unique woman. While living within the confines of her illness she chose to do something about it, she joined the medical profession. As she says in her memoir, “”Now that I’ve finished medical school, I know what all those names mean, what diseases they describe, but you cannot know what they are as an illness until you see them in a patient” (p 15). Not only is her condition (congenital autoimmune deficiency disorder) rare and confusing, but her duality of patient and doctor gives her an interesting perspective- from bedside manner of doctor to bedridden patient. Because she is able to really know what the patient is experiencing she can deliver the empathy necessary for individuals really suffering.
My only real disappointment was the organization of the chapters. Dr. Weisman jumps around, remembering patients and her own childhood at random. I would have prefered a more chronological accounting. The last two chapters of the book, “begotten” and “begetting” are warmer and more personal and as a result seem a departure from the more clinical previous chapters.

Favorite blurbs:
“Our diseases overwhelm us at the strangest times” (p 16).
“I knew no happy lawyers” (p 31).

BookLust Twist: From both Book Lust and More Book Lust. In Book Lust in the chapter called, “Physicians Writing More Than Prescriptions” (p 185), and in More Book Lust in the chapter called, “Other People’s Shoes (p 181).

Lending and Learning

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This weekend was a chance to help. Myself. Saturday was all about carving a pumpkin to make me happy. Sunday was walking 5 miles for Baystate’s Rays of Hope Breast Cancer Charity Walk then having good girl time (as opposed to bad?)…

I am making a vow to walk the Rays of Hope every year. I may not walk as part of a team again (too much pressure to want to stay together), but I will definitely make this an annual thing. I will never, ever call attention to myself for the hurts I have faced but I am proud of the healing just the same. This walk was just what I needed. Maybe a certain someone will want to join me next year (what do you say, Smiley?)… So, anyway, this is a picture of me waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. I sat on my car and watched the others roll in. I won’t admit to how ridiculously early I really was, but it gave me a chance to watch walkers unite, hug, cry. Out came the pink ribbons, the pink balloons, the pink hats, the pink face paint (yes, yours truly smudged hers within moments of application), pink pink pink. Everywhere. I own so much black I actually had to go out and buy the pink shirt in the pic!

This was a day of coming together for the cause. Coming together period. I didn’t think of anything me, myself or moi. I wore no name except for that of my Team. I was not one person but an army of ones walking. I think that’s what knocked me silly on this Sunday. Running, you run for yourself. You lose the crowd. Everyone spreads out and becomes their own warrior. Walking binds you to the footsteps in front of you. Makes you move as a group. We were pretty in pink, proud in pink, perfect in pink.

S~ Thanks for hanging out later. While we didn’t talk about this walk all that much, it was nice to have that gabby, girly time. After the day I just had, it was perfect.

Last Lecture

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Pausch, Randy. The Last Lecture. New York: Hyperion, 2008

This was not on any Book Lust or More Book Lust list. That isn’t to say that it shouldn’t be. Indeed, if Nancy Pearl ever sets up to write a third volume of Lust, I would hope she would include The Last Lecture. When I first heard of it I was reminded of Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom To crudely sum up Tuesdays, Mitch’s college professor, Morrie Schwartz was dying of Lou Gerhig’s disease. Upon hearing this, Mitch set out to rekindle his Tuesday meetings with Morrie. What came of those meetings was a great book and a heart warming movie.

Imagine Morrie writing his own book. He knows he is dying and is desperate to leave the world with a gift; the gift of inspiration. This is how I think Randy Pausch saw The Last Lecture. Dying of terminal cancer and given only months to live, Randy saw an opportunity to leave his words of wisdom on the minds of former students and colleagues at Carnegie Mellon. His message “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams” went beyond academia – it went much deeper than that. It was his meaning of life and he wanted to share these thoughts with family and friends as well. The lecture, delivered in September 2007 was peppered with outrageous stories, touching photographs and a wry sense of humor about his illness. It was a huge success. It led to the book The Last Lecture (which became a national best seller). 

Favorite quotes: “There’s a formality on academia that can’t be ignored, even if a man is busy with other things, like trying not to die” (p 4). So, right off the bat you know Randy Pausch views his cancer as something “to deal with” and not get bogged down by. This, to me, set the tone for the entire book.
“Open the encyclopedia. Open the dictionary. Open your mind” (p 22). While the previous quote may have set the tone for the book, this quote summed up who Randy Pausch was from the time he was a child until he last breath. He was a man who never wanted to stop learning. That comes across very clearly throughout The Last Lecture.

I strongly urge you to pick up the book, check out the website, even watch the dvd of the actual lecture. It may change how you view your world around you…it may even change your life.

Sarah’s Challenge

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See Sarah Smile!
See Sarah Smile!

This is my friend Sarah. We started off as coworkers. Even though she has moved onto bigger and better things we have remained friends. She has a huge smile and an even bigger heart. Here’s the proof: she walking a full freakin’ marathon for charity – yup 26.2 miles in one day. Here’s her story:

You are a charity walking machine, but this is your biggest yet! What made you sign on?  

 Last year I walked the half marathon and I loved it. Even though i was sore for a few days afterwards. I asked my dad to participate with me this year and he really wanted us to walk the whole marathon. I knew I couldn’t get a better walking partner than my dad (who has RUN many marathons) so i agreed to walk the full 26.2 miles!

How are you training for it, besides one foot in front of the other?

My ideas for training started with a book, and a set schedule but I struggled to get into it. Yesterday I walked 6.2 miles, and i am feeling it. my plan is to walk at least twice during the week for 3 miles or more, and then do my long walks on the weekend. my long walks will be 10, 13, 18 and 21 miles. In September I will start to shorten the mileage to get ready for the event.

When and where does this HUGE walk take place?

This is the part that hooked me both last year and this year. The walk is the Boston Marathon route. I have watched my dad run this marathon so its an honor to be able to experience this with him. Especially since neither of us our in running condition to do the real marathon. This is the next best thing.

This is something I asked our friend Rebecca: most athletes I know have a ritual or lucky talisman – something that inspires them before the event. What’s yours?

The things that inspire me most at these events are the volunteers and the photos that remind of us we are participating. The marathon has a mile marker with a photo of a child who is battling cancer. Those kids are fighting for their life, all i have to do is keep walking.

Here’s another question I asked Rebecca: Are you walking in anyones honor or memory, and if so, what is his/her story?

i am not walking for one particular person but for the general cause. I am amazed at the courage of anyone that goes thru cancer. To be honest, I am scared of someone I love or myself having to go thru something like that. I admire the strength of those who have cancer, their loved ones, and the people in the medical field who try to beat the odds and get them through it.

I’m not trying to guilt anyone but if walking a marathon and asking for your help in donating can help the fight against cancer then it is the least I can do. It is what I’d hope someone would do for me or someone I loved.

Speaking of donations, how much $$ do you have to raise?
my dad and i need to raise $250 each.

How can people donate?
my website is http://www.jimmyfundwalk.org/sb08

my dad’s site is http://www.jimmyfundwalk.org/bb

if you can donate that would be awesome. no amount is too small.

To learn more about you or the walk where can people go?

if you do not want to donate online, email me and we’ll figure something else out

my email is sburke81@yahoo.com

And when is that walk again??

September 21st

All Plans Have Changed

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I wanted to write about spending time with my good, good friend. How we ran together (only 3.5mi but still…), rolled our eyes at family issues (pass me the bottle), caught the Closer bug together…
I wanted to write about how two great people stepped up and came out with me Friday night. I don’t ask for help very often and my requests aren’t always clear, but they answered the call despite weather and wine and one way streets.
I wanted to write about this one particular house we saw yesterday. It’s the perfect marriage of funky and functional (read = moi & kisa). Dare I say perfect?
I wanted to write my apologies for playing phone tag with two very special people. I am sorry I keep missing the ring so much it becomes rang. Don’t ever think I don’t need you.

Instead, I have cancer on the brain. When I got the call I went cold. “Make her some Natalie cds” my mother urged. “You know, the soothing stuff…” She went onto to say things like, “you won’t recognize her… administering her own chemo…needed to be on Monhegan… metal rods because her bones are so brittle… the whole family is here…” After a little while I stopped listening. All I could hear was my heart pounding & breaking. I kept thinking too young. Too fukcing young. When will this disease go after the sour grapes? When will it turn away from the angels on earth and settle a cold eye somewhere else?

I think it goes without saying that all plans have changed.

Gain

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GainPowers, Richard. Gain.New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1998.

LibraryThing review (with a few edits): Gain reminds me of a fictional A Civil Action. Big company being implicated in a cancer case. Except it’s more complicated than that. In trying to describe Gain to my husband, here’s what I said, “There are two stories being told. In the here and now is Laura, real estate agent, mother of two, divorced, just found out she has cancer. Simultaneously, there is the historical story of these soap making brothers who create a chemical conglomerate. The historical story is like a train from the past rushing towards the future, each chapter brings the giant closer to Laura’s story until they collide disastrously. You switch back and forth between Laura (now) and the brothers (from the past)” My husband just cocked his head and replied, “huh.” Okay, so he didn’t get it. In truth, the historical side is more complicated, scientifically written; the voice more impersonal & dry. It should be because it’s recounting the rise of a company from its roots including the advances in science and the strategies of marketing, whereas Laura’s part of the story is more intimate, emotional, warm and telling.

Favorite lines: “They throw silence back and forth at each other until the gyny surgeon comes in” (p 74).
“Avoid meat and fat. Don’t smoke or drink. Limit the time you spend in the sun. Don’t expose yourself to toxic chemicals at home or at work. Do not indulge in multiple sexual partners. And send twenty-five dollars” (p 283). This last one cracked me up because Laura has just gotten a solicitation from a cancer charity looking for money. At first she thinks she’s being targeted as someone who would be more sympathetic because she has cancer. The above is her reaction to the mailing.
But, probably my favorite – favorite part isn’t a line I can quote but a whole section. Laura goes to the library and learns the value of research…from a librarian.

BookLust Twist: Gain is actually in More Book Lust twice. Once for the reason why I’m reading it in April: it’s included in the “Ecofiction” chapter (p 78), and again in “Richard Powers: Too Good To Miss” (p 192).

Bill, My First (not)

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CancerI sent in my registration today. It’s in the mail which means there is no turning back now…unless I want to commit a federal offense. I’m committed alright! Committed to the run. Bill, your challenge will be my first even though it’s your third. No. That’s not entirely true. I’ve run one other 5K in my life. Just as I’ve only run one other race besides that. So, come to think of it, your third annual challenge is technically my third race ever. Go figure.
March 15th. Mark my calendar in red. I signed up. I paid to play.
Here’s the deal: Look Park – twice. 8am. Bill’s Challenge III is sponsored by Cancer Connection. Bill was CC’s first client. He was so involved in Cancer Connection that after his death the 5K challenge was created in his honor. Somehow I missed the 2006 & 2007 challenges but thanks to my father-in-law, hello challenge 2008, here I come.

Here’s my deal. I am not running for personal time. I could care less about beating anyone else (least of all myself). I run to fight cancer, honor someone special, raise awareness for issues like domestic abuse, bring places like Darfur into focus…I could go on. I run to help. Always have, always will. If I’m not moving my feet for something good, it’s not worth doing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, show me the cause and I’ll find the fight.

Autobiography of a Face

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AutobiographyGrealy, Lucy. Autobiography of a Face.New York: HarperCollins, 2003.

I had all the right conditions to finish this book in two days – traveling, vacationing, but most of all, fascination. I couldn’t put it down. On the surface Autobiography of a Face is the tragic story of one woman’s struggle with cancer and journey through recovery. Only her struggle isn’t as an adult. She is a child. Confronting Ewing’s sarcoma at age nine Lucy battles through radiation therapy and chemotherapy. Her tone can only be described as matter of fact as she recounts the loneliness and pain after countless surgeries to correct the deformity of losing a third of her jaw. Deeper than that, Autobiography is about rising above the cruelty of others, shaking off the superficial prejudices of what supposedly makes a face beautiful. Lucy is defiant and remarkably stoic in her recollections of childhood taunts, adult avoidance, and across the board lack of social acceptance.
Critics call this book the vehicle with which to free oneself from self loathing and fears of rejection. It is a message to stop wallowing in self pity and live with dignity – no matter what. It’s also a call to be human and have real emotions as Lucy admits, “and as much as I wanted to love everybody in school and waft esoterically into the ether when someone called me ugly, I was plagued with petty desires and secret, evil hates” (p 181).

My favorite quote: “speaking seemed like something one could grow tired of” (p 77).

Lucy’s story ends with her getting published, finding friendships and getting on with her life. Yet, there is a darkness to it all. She is criticized for not telling the whole truth. There is mystery surrounding her untimely death in 2002. Her story leaves you asking what happened and wanting more. What the book doesn’t tell you is that her multiple surgeries led to an addiction to pain meds and subsequently, heroin. She died of an overdose at the age of 39. There is more drama after death, but I’ll leave that for you to figure out.

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust and the chapter “Other People’s Shoes” (p 181). I can’t even begin to imagine being in Lucy’s shoes.

Take Another Piece

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The second charity of the year to contact me was my very own Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I say “my very own” because I ran a half marathon for them last May. I know this organization all too well. To be more precise, I ran, walked, limped, hobbled and probably most importantly, raised funds for them. Some of you might remember the journal I kept. I documented all 60+ runs that brought me to the final moments of the end: 13.1 miles. See, LLs takes ordinary plain janes like myself (and joes) and turns them into athletes, however temporary. The Society doesn’t just ask for a handout, they ask you to give everything you’ve got – blood, sweat and tears – and thensome. In return, they turn one of your greatest challenges into your greatest adventure. They take your energy (or lack thereof) and add to it more pride and accomplishment than you’ve ever seen. With the help of trainers, coaches and 24 hour support they train you to not only to raise the funds, but to finish the endurance challenge of your choice. You start the challenge worrying about how to ask people for money and you end it with the understanding that there are extremely kind and generous people in the world. You start the journey thinking you can’t run a single mile and end it knowing you can run 13.1 or even 26.2 miles.  In short you go from being a doubter to a believer in the one thing that matters – yourself. They may ask you to raise a ridiculous amount, they may ask you to run a ridiculous amount, they may ask you to give a ridiculous amount, but they give you back something far more precious – a huge sense of accomplishment. Believe me, I kick my own ass all the time, but I was never more proud of myself than on 5/13/06.

So, here the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society contacted me again…wanting another piece of me. They are relentless! And why shouldn’t they be? Cancer is just as relentless. The day after my race I lamented that cancer just doesn’t quit.

I didn’t sign up for another challenge. I wrote a check instead. Actually, what I should say is, “I didn’t sign up for another challenge…yet.” See you in the gym.

For Ruth

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Blueberry Yum

Ruth Etta Ives, 59

PEMAQUID — Ruth Etta Ives, 59, of Pemaquid, passed away on Nov. 13, 2006, from a malignant brain tumor. Ruth was born on Jan. 17, 1947, the daughter of Charles and Velma Drake and stepfather Robert Sutter of Wiscasset. Ruth is a 1965 graduate of Wiscasset High School and 1969 graduate of the University of Maine at Orono.

From 1971 to 1972, Ruth studied theology at the University of Edinburgh, Scotland where she met her husband, the Rev. Robert Ives. They married in 1973, and moved to Monhegan Island, where for two years they taught together in the one-room school house while Robert was the island minister. They moved to Loud’s Island in Muscongus Bay for two years (1975-77) where they served as the island ministers in the summers and in Sheepscott in the winters. After serving the New Harbor and Round Pond United Methodist Churches from 1977-1979, Ruth and Robert founded the Carpenter’s Boat Shop in Pemaquid. For 27 years, they have welcomed apprentices into their home to learn the craft of wooden boat building and to discern direction for their lives. Ruth always welcomed any person, offering a cup of tea and a blueberry muffin. She corresponded with thousands of friends and former apprentices, and wrote over 50,000 letters while at the Boat Shop.

Ruth also helped found the Community Housing Improvement Project (C.H.I.P.) in 1984, and for nearly 15 years helped coordinate the annual ecumenical CROP Walk to benefit world hunger relief. Ruth was an active member of the Second Congregational Church, U.C.C. of Newcastle.

Ruth leaves behind her husband of 33 years, the Rev. Robert Ives of Pemaquid; children Hilda Ives Wiley and her husband Peter of Cambridge, Mass., Jonathan Ives and Hannah Ives of Pemaquid; and her brothers Bob and Bill Sutter of Wiscasset, and Scott Sutter of Boothbay.

The memorial service will be held at St. Patrick’s Church in Newcastle on Saturday, Nov. 18 at 1 p.m. A family burial will be held at the Harrington Meetinghouse Cemetery in Pemaquid.

In lieu of flowers, the Ives family requests that gifts be given to: C.H.I.P (Community Housing Improvement Project) P.O. Box 6 New Harbor, Maine 04554 or any organization that is working to promote justice, love, and peace within your local community. Ruth always tried to think globally and act locally. Ruth Etta Ives

Portland Press Herald November 15, 2006