On the corner of Broadway and Union, on Seattle’s Capitol Hill, sits an old brick building with a red door, and four stately white columns in front. Magic happens in this building.
When Gilda Radner was diagnosed with cancer, she learned first hand how lonely cancer can be. Gilda’s Club was created so no one else would have to go through the cancer experience alone.
Gilda’s Club is not just for the cancer patient, but their family members and close friends as well. A cancer diagnosis impacts the whole family. We all need a place where we can be ourselves, and it feels good to have a place where we feel normal, where others understand what we are going through. Gilda’s Club does this with support groups, lectures, and other helpful events for people with cancer and their loved ones.
Camp Sparkle
Camp Sparkle is one of the ways that Gilda’s Club helps the children of cancer patients.
Sometimes, the world turns upside down when Mom or Dad is diagnosed with cancer, or even dies from cancer. This is complicated when adults reflexively avoid conversations about cancer, life and death, or deep issues are distilled into platitudes that are more dismissive than helpful.
Camp Sparkle provides a safe environment for kids to talk about cancer, and helps provide kids with a toolbox of skills to name and discuss their feelings and to deal with this and other challenges life will throw at them.
And Camp Sparkle is FUN!
My girl turned 5 a few months ago, so this year she was old enough to go to Camp Sparkle. She had so much fun. She came home with piles of artwork each day of the week, and at the end of the week she brought home a journal. She went on a field trip every day. She made new friends, learned about compassion, and respect, and self care. And I am so impressed with the questions she’s been asking since camp. Thoughtful questions about things it never occurred to me to bring up with her.
She’s a happy camper, and I’m so glad she got to go to Camp Sparkle.
Gilda’s Club has clubhouses across the country, and Camp Sparkle is free for the children of all Gilda’s Club members, ages 5-18.
I spent the night in the ER last week. I wasn’t a big deal, just a recurring issue that’s a side-effect of a side-effect of my cancer treatment. It’s starting to feel a little routine.
This time it was a little different, though.
For one thing, the hospital was over-full. This hospital that I usually rave about, got less than high marks from me this time. When I was finally admitted, they put me in the over-flow of the patient over-flow area: pre-op. That was all fine and dandy from 2am when I finally got the room, till 5am when the surgical patients started showing up. Then the constant noise, the fact that the kitchen could never seem to find me to deliver my meals, the lack of a phone (and my cell phone died), the lack of a tv, and the persistent sound of various people vomiting started to get to me. A little. Maybe a lot. But, I was checked out by that evening, so I didn’t have to deal with it for more than a day. And I’m just fine now.
But, I diverted my attention by focusing on something else. It was four years to the day from the night my daughter was born. I went in to the ER just about the same time I arrived at this same hospital four years earlier. With no tv, and plenty of chaos to try to block out of my awareness, I passed the time remembering my daughter’s birth. What an amazing experience. And, I was released from the hospital in time to give my newly-minted 4-year-old a big hug on her birthday.
I’ve spent the rest of the week reminiscing about the past four years with my little girl, and I came across this picture of her baby shark costume from her first Halloween.
Hmmm… maybe this sheds a little light on her current shark obsession. 🙂
You can learn more about my cancer story here:
We spent the sunny Saturday afternoon traipsing around town, when my daughter was inspired into her own impromptu dance recital in front of this mural.
She had no idea that it was the third anniversary of the day my life was turned upside down – the cancer diagnosis. She just grabbed the moment and savored it, so I did as well.
I find it interesting how this anniversary hits me differently each year. Last year, I forgot entirely. But then, I was in a good place.
This year I’ve had a tougher time, and the cancer is on my mind much more regularly. My recent reconstruction surgery plays into that, of course, and my Granny died, and another dear friend just went into hospice.
Cancer does funny things to our heads. A friend, also a survivor, just noted the milestone of experiencing a symptom and not automatically thinking cancer first. We can be fine one day, and the next, unable to ignore the way cancer messed with every single aspect of our lives, from finances and credit ratings and careers, to simple daily frustrations like the day you don’t have the strength to get up and parent a child with patience and presence, and have to yell from the couch across the room. I never wanted to be that mom.
But I’m getting stronger again, and when my strength improves, my attitude does as well.
A little extra daylight may just help a bit, too.
It helps to spend my days with a bouncy, talkative, 40-pound attitude adjuster.
And who could stay in a bad mood around spontaneous dancing like this?
The other day I had a rare moment of solitude after I dropped my husband off at the office, and drove back home All By Myself. I took the long way, the scenic route along the length of Lake Washington. As I drove, with the water and sun to my left, and mansions to my right, I pondered the week ahead and how I would spend the luxury of down time that would accompany the recovery from my upcoming surgery.
I would get caught up on my correspondence, do my taxes, get a number of blog posts prepared in advance, organize our finances, get started writing a series I’ve been plotting, edit a few thousand photographs, work my way through a stack of books I’ve been longing to read…
My head was racing as I pondered all the projects I’d finally have a chance to tackle, when I saw a big fat bald eagle sitting on a tree branch along the side of the road. I had to drive quite a ways ahead to find a place to park the car, then grabbed my camera and walked back to his tree. He sat there waiting, and watching me walk between the lake and the road. He waited and watched till I pulled my camera up to my face, then took off before my first click. Three clicks of the camera and he was gone.
But the stop was good for me.
It slowed me down.
I meandered back to the car. I stopped to watch birds play. I kicked a rock around for a while. I sat down and studied moss growing out the side of a stone wall.
It’s been three weeks since that drive, and nearly 3 weeks since my surgery. In that time, I have not done one of the things on my list. I rested. I watched a lot of movies. I colored in coloring books with my daughter. I snuggled. I let more than 2000 additional emails accumulate in my inbox. But, it’s all ok. I needed a rest.
Maybe, one of these days, I will get caught up on my correspondence, but it wont be today. Today, I’m going to snuggle on the couch with my little girl and watch Tinkerbell, and maybe we’ll sing some songs, and make up a few stories.
It’s checkup time for me again. This time, it was with my radiation oncologist.
Gem has spent most of her life going to the doctor with Mommy. She’s an old pro.
She brings one of her “friends” – today, we brought Tolee, the Koala Bear.
Get him all comfortable, and make sure he feels safe.
And since doctor visits mean a lot of waiting, we pass the time with a little dance.
And a little more dancing.
Maybe we’ll just rest a bit.
And then while the doctor talks to Mommy, Gem borrows her tools to give Tolee a thorough examination.
And me? I’m still improving. The doctor said I look fabulous! I’ll take that. I need to wear my lymphedema sleeve more. I already knew that. I need to get back into physical therapy. check. The fatigue is normal, and should continue to decrease over the next few years. Sigh. And, unless something comes up, we’re going to go a full year till my next radiation checkup!
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