The weather turned since the last time I wrote one of these letters to you. In just a couple months we went from temperatures in the 80s to frosty mornings and piles of multicolored leaves on the ground. You’ve changed so much, grown up so much, in that little bit of time.
You notice the change in the trees. You notice the weather. You notice so many things that just a couple months ago would have slipped right past you. I have to be a little more careful now. And watch my tongue. Not that I am the kind of person who would thoughtlessly say things in your presence that I wouldn’t want you to repeat. ahem.
The past few months have been pretty busy. Especially October. I’ve taken to calling it Pinktober, because breast cancer awareness month takes over everything, no matter what else we’ve got going on.
As if I wasn’t already all too aware of breast cancer.
I have a feeling that this is going to be a part of a new pattern in our lives, that we will need to learn to just brace ourselves for Pinktober every year. We’ll learn to let the wave of pink wash over us without dredging up too much trauma, while embracing the opportunities that come in at the same time. We need to remember that Pinktober is a time of reunion with those who have become close friends in this breast cancer battle, it’s also a time to celebrate life, and raise some money to help all those who will be diagnosed in the year ahead.
When I see myself in your mannerisms, the things you say, the way you turn a phrase, it reminds me that one of my most important tasks as your mother is to be a role model. And that responsibility has become a critical part of my decision making process.
Some people pay lipservice to the old WWJD: What Would Jesus Do? I take a different approach. When faced with a difficult decision, I ask WWIWGTD: What Would I Want Gem To Do? But I’m asking that question for real. I consider this question in all different aspects of my life from brushing my teeth even if I’m staying in bed all day, to how I interact with friends and strangers, to how I research and take a position on an issue, to how I react when people are cruel to me.
I don’t want to give the impression that I’m letting you make my decisions. I need to make choices that are healthy for me, and I want you to learn to make decisions that are healthy for you.
The net result of all this is that I am living my life more mindfully because of you. I’m making more thoughtful decisions. I’m taking better care of my body. I now respond differently when people try to walk all over me, and while some may not like that change, I know it’s a change that needed to be made.
It sounds cliche to say that women who have faced down a life-threatening diagnosis really know how to embrace life. It is cliche. It’s not even always true. But my girls? My friends? They know how to party.
Friday night we celebrated and raised money for the Young Survival Coalition with our annual silent auction and dance party, In Living Pink.
The silent auction was wildly successful, and boasted donated items such as massage certificates, white water rafting, sight seeing cruises and flights, art, event tickets, A NYC package including Letterman tickets, Seahawks gear – autographed by players, jewelry, restaurants, vacation packages, and too much more to list.
So what does all this money we’re raising go to? Here’s a few examples:
$25 pays for a resource kit for young women newly diagnosed with breast cancer. This resource kit includes an organizer for tracking the onslaught of information that must be managed through treatment, an encouraging and helpful DVD “you are not alone,” a guide to services available to young women with cancer, and a chemo-hat – hand-knit by the mother of one of our members.
$50 pays for flowers for one of our girls in the hospital, or going through a rough patch
$125 pays for facility rental so we can bring in educational guest speakers on a wide variety of issues such as nutrition, dealing with the effects of treatment on sexuality, and post-treatment breast reconstruction.
$200 pays for the facility rental and therapist facilitator for twice monthly group therapy sessions.
$300 will send one of our members to our annual retreat at Harmony Hill
This is more than just a dance party, this event raises money that makes a difference.
But we do know how to have fun…
The guys, too…
Hey, look, it’s me. (One of the best parts of having a 2 year old little girl: Gem declared me to be a “mermaid princess” before I left the house #mamaswoon)
Thank you to everyone who contributed so much to this event, from the planning committee to the volunteers who put in so many hours the night of the party.
The decorations looked amazing, Brooke from Movin’ 92.5 kept the party hoppin’, and Miss Shelrawka rocked the house.
I’ve spent the past two days working on a couple projects that have had me knee deep in photographs from the Young Survival Coalition. That’s had me a little emotional, to say the least: memories, faces, friends…
One of those projects a presentation on our getaway to the Harmony Hill Cancer Retreat Center. I’ve just got to share a few of these photos.
There’s just something about the ability to get away from it all, and bond with the girls –
girls who have been through what I’ve been through…
at my age, rather than me being the youngest by 30 years…
Who knew getting our craft on would be so cathartic?
or so much fun
We noshed on homegrown vegetarian fare
Wined a bit
Practiced a little yoga
enjoyed the scenery
and got a little clarity.
The words on the back of our jackets:
“When it hurts to look back, And you’re scared to look ahead, Look beside you… your friends will be there.”
.This is the story of how I became an on air radio personality.
Ok, it’s not. I’m not.
It’s not even about me.
This is a story about Debbie Cantwell, and the non-profit organization she started on her kitchen table, all by herself, to help young women with breast cancer, like me.
This is the story of the Pink Daisy Project, and a generous donation from Bonneville Seattle and the Seattle Seahawks.
The Pink Daisy Project provides care and comfort to young women with breast cancer, by means of grocery cards, gas cards, drug store cards, and housecleaning services.
My little girl and I were invited to accompany Debbie, her mother, and Andrea to the presentation of the honor.
And a check that will allow the Pink Daisy Project to help quite a few more young women.
And then, the Seattle Seahawks presented Debbie with the 12th Man flag, signed by all the players.
Yes, of course, my daughter photobombed that shot.
Then we went into the booth, where Debbie told the story of starting the Pink Daisy Project as a way to pay it forward after receiving help from friends and family members during her own battle with breast cancer.
And she told us about her own Grandma Daisy, in whose memory this organization is named. Grandma Daisy taught Debbie, and the rest of us by extension, how to live and give back, even while battling breast cancer.
Andrea spoke eloquently about her two bouts with breast cancer on different coasts of the country, and the difference between one where she was surrounded by family, and the other where she was more isolated. The Pink Daisy Project was there for her when her family was far away.
And then I got a turn at the mic. Look out Seattle.
Actually, because the experience is still so fresh for me, it’s still quite raw. I still get choked up. My voice warbles at certain points. I have to take a moment…
Thank you to the Seahawks and Bonneville for your generous donation to the Pink Daisy Project, and the help it will provide for young women across the country facing this terrifying diagnosis. Thank you, also, for broadcasting the story of Debbie Cantwell, and how her work is so integral to the recovery of women like Andrea and me.
And thank you Debbie, for being there for me, and everyone else.
It’s that time of year when the world is washed in pink, and people prance around in their favorite tongue-in-cheek, boob-aware apparel. But how much awareness does all this bring to the realities of breast cancer, and how much does this just turn our attention to boobs?
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against boobs. I am pro-boob. I was quite attached to mine, till one tried to kill me. Boobs are awesome, an entertaining conversation topic, they bounce, they feed babies, they’re happy, fun playthings. Breast cancer is the Debbie Downer in the room.
But I can’t wish the pink away, not until we find a better way to fund finding a cure. Unfortunately, not only do we have to endure pink every year, but every year breast cancer survivors go out and parade ourselves around to raise money for breast cancer organizations we believe in. Like it or not, the reality is that many good organizations funding research and programs that help women with breast cancer survive depend on October, on the Breast Cancer Awareness Month, the make the majority of their budget for the upcoming year. And yes, the results of that funding has lead to research that led to treatments that beat back my cancer. And those fundraisers brought in money for breast cancer support organizations that helped me survive my treatments. These fundraisers do make a difference when the money goes to the right place.
So as much as we hate it, we put on the pink and we paste on the smile, because these programs helped get us through it, and now we’re paying it forward so those programs can help someone else. BUT, we’re very careful who we support.
Not everything pink forwards money on to organizations that are seeking the cure, or supporting women with breast cancer. There are so many devious programs out there making money hand over fist selling pink items. Some paint an item pink even though it’s a known carcinogen. Some send no money at all. some just bilk the well-meaning of extra cash. They send $1 to a breast cancer org? Sure, but they bumped the price from $5 to $10 before they painted it pink. That little bit of pink is making them an extra $4 a pop, and you’re buying, not because you need it, but because it’s pink. Sometimes it’s more effective to make a direct donation (also tax-deductable) rather than purchasing something just because it’s pink in October.
Yes, awareness is important. Yes, its the once annual reminder to do the self-exam that we should be doing every month. But we also need to spread awareness that young women, even young girls, can get breast cancer. And men, too. And we can’t stop at awareness.
Unfortunately, there are a lot of amazing women who are dying – and they’ve got all kinds of awareness. Awareness is not enough. We need a cure.
I went straight to the bookstore after I got the “I’m sorry it’s cancer” phone call; surely amongst all the wisdom coded into letters and words, pressed to paper, and bound to books, would be some little snippet that would tell me how to move forward.
Since that day I’ve read a lot of books about living with cancer, but when Katherine Malmo placed the slender, uncorrected galley of “Who in This Room” in my hands, I knew I was in possession of something different.
Katherine’s book did not tell me how to move forward. But it was the first I’ve read that really connected with me on how it feels to have cancer.
That’s not to say the book is touchy-feely, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. One of my favorite quotes from the book shows her trepidation at joining a cancer support group: “You are afraid someone will try to hold your hand or leap from behind the ficus to hug you.” That pretty much sums up the way I felt the first time I walked into a support group meeting with the Young Survival Coalition.
I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I’ve had this book for well over a month, and I’ve been struggling with how to write this review. I want to tell you that reading this book is like going through the process of diagnosis, treatment, grieving, and moving on – but then who would want to read a book described like that?
And I do want you to read this book. I want my friends to read it. I want my family to read it. Because even though this is Kate’s story, it is my story, too. And the story of all my friends who have looked cancer in the eye, and stared down death… even if only for a little while.
This is not a sad book. This is not a book that is just about cancer, although that obviously drives the story line. This is a story about getting up every day and living. And this is a book that ends at the start of her brand new life.
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