Mary's blog 4 healing

Good medicine!

2012-01-30T16:59:00.001-05:00

Too often this blog has focused on my medical journey. Today it is about what makes all that worthwhile.

Tom and I are in Cancun for a week's vacation. We figure this is the fifth or sixth time we've been here, but the first time it has been just the two of us. What took us so long? The times before were all great, and we're remembering a lot of those times now, but we haven't taken enough vacations by ourselves. Not surprisingly, we have been talking about making this an annual event.

At the same time, we're talking about creating new family memories. At the pool yesterday, I asked the parents of two little boys how old their sons were. As the little guys, aged 2 and 4, played in the pool, I could see our grandsons having fun with us on a future trip. And their parents would love to come back to the place where they were engaged.

Sun, sand, water, warm weather, good food and drink, each other for company and no pressure to be anywhere at a particular time -- all make for a wonderfully relaxing time.

Wish you were here -- but we're kinda glad you're not!

Did you hear the one about....?

2011-10-16T08:03:00.000-04:00

My grandson Dodge has been telling me the funniest joke. It's funny because he is not quite 27 months old and has only been talking about a month, but he went from just a few words to telling his first joke in no time at all.

It started one day when he was visiting and there had been rain with thunder, so he had quickly learned a new word. We talked about how thunder goes "boom!" and he enjoyed saying it with gusto. The next time I saw him, rain was nowhere in the forecast, but he looked at me with the orneriest grin and pronounced, "Hear funder, boom!"

Of course that made me quickly exclaim, "There's no thunder!" And that sent us both into a burst of giggles at the funny joke he had made with grandma.

My surprise at his new display of humor made the joke that much funnier. I had figured it would be another year or so before his talking progressed to the joke-telling stage. The inevitable knock-knock jokes can't be far off now, and they will be the funniest jokes I have ever heard.

Reaching out for support

2011-10-08T10:06:00.000-04:00

You never know whom you might touch when you send a message out into the social media universe. I was recently led to fellow blogger David Haas, who advocates for cancer patients to find strength and healing in support groups. At his request, I am sharing a post he wrote for this blog. I hope it helps someone in need of its message:

Support Helps on the Way to the Cure

If you have been diagnosed with cancer whether it is skin cancer, Leukemia, or even a rare disease like mesothelioma then you need to understand the benefits of having the support of others at your aide. There are a myriad of cancer survivor groups all over the world and with the advent of the Internet they are closer than ever before. If you are recently diagnosed, going through treatments, or are a cancer survivor you should recognize how well support groups help individuals going through trying times and how much of a benefit survivors can provide to others.

Doctors Agree
One irrefutable truth that most doctors can agree upon is that understanding and support can help those with cancer get through their tough times. Understanding what is going on during treatments and even being well versed the adverse effects of treatments can be beneficial. Peers going through the same or similar treatments can ultimately serve as a wonderful archive of knowledge and tips. Knowing what to expect is a great way to aide one in the fight against cancer. Friends and loved ones are able to provide a unique unrivaled support, but being able to discuss the specific, intimate details about an ailment with someone who has the same issue can be a great way to gain insight and help on the road to recovery.

Online Support Groups
Online support groups have become more prevalent as the Internet has become a bigger part in the lives of many. The Internet is now readily available wirelessly all over the world. Many smart phones and cellular devices have access to the Internet. This means for those battling cancer that support is always available. Anytime you are near your phone you can visit
websites, send emails, and keep up with others. There is no longer a reason to face the hardships of cancer alone. The support of friends and loved ones important, but having someone in your corner that personally knows what you’re going through is unbeatable. This is a great way to know what to expect and to be able to talk honestly and candidly about what you are going through with others that will be both knowledgeable and sympathetic about what you are going through.

Thanks, David. Nicely said!

All A'Twitter

2011-10-08T09:42:00.000-04:00

When I started this blog three years ago, I was amazed at the ability blogging gave me to reach out to audiences beyond my immediate target of family and friends. My initial purpose was to keep well-wishers updated on my cancer treatment, and it was therapy, too, to write some of what I was experiencing. It did that and more as friends shared with friends and people I never expected would be interested told me they appreciated what I wrote.

Lately I am astounded by the potential of Twitter and Facebook to carry the written word farther and faster. I am such a novice but, with some patient coaching from a work colleague, I am trying to learn how to speak Twitter.

It starts with declaring who you are, which is an interesting exercise in itself. My Twitter handle is @maryyost, and here is where I landed for my profile:
Advocate for hospitals and wellness; serial cancer survivor; former journalist; wife, mom and grandma living a blessed life!

There is something powerful about summing up who you are and what you stand for in a few words. It even gave me the option of sharing my blog site, which is nice! For me, the profile statement is a reminder that anything I post in this blog or Tweet about should fall somewhere within those attributes.

This morning I am feeling very blessed indeed. Indian summer is here, the weekend stretches ahead of me, I got to spend time with my daughter, mom and grandsons last night and my health is good. That's certainly something to tell the world!

Gym dandy

2011-10-01T11:01:00.000-04:00

My surgical sabbatical is fully over now. The final sign I was back to normal following the removal of Cancer 2.1 came with my return to regular, early morning workouts. If I thought I was going to ease into it, all I had to do was glance at my long-time gym buddy for inspiration.

Rosalie and I share more than our gym visits. We are work colleagues whose offices are adjacent. We are both in our late 50s -- at least until her milestone birthday in December! And we are both cancer survivors who have faced recurrences with great success.

There was no way I could wimp out on returning to our workouts, knowing Rosalie would be right there beside me despite the chemo treatments she has been undergoing since mid-summer. I had quit our morning routines during my chemo treatment in late 2008 and early 2009, but Rosalie has kept right on, bald-headed and determined.

She was the first one I told about Cancer 2.1. She was in the hospital dealing with her own recurrence that morning in late July when my oncologist told me my latest CT scan showed a suspected new tumor. With her trademark sunny disposition and positive outlook, she comforted me with confident predictions for a quick return to good health.

Rosalie's treatment results have been wonderful and her outlook is as cheery as ever. It's easier to drag myself out of bed at 5 a.m., knowing she will be waiting. And if I don't show at the gym, I will still have to pass her office later at work. I couldn't have a better reason to exercise!

What not to wear

2011-09-05T13:59:00.000-04:00

I finally accomplished something I have been wanting to do for months -- purging my closet of things I don't wear and, more importantly, shouldn't wear.

It has taken me way too long to come to grips with what looks good on me and what doesn't. Earlier this year I started paying more attention to necklines I feel better in and identifying the styles that just don't work; noting what pant lines flatter and which don't. I still don't have my optimal color palette worked out, but I'm getting closer.

To finish the job, I hauled everything out of the closet yesterday and promised myself only those items I feel good in would be returned to the hangers and shelves. Some I knew as I took them out wouldn't be going back in. Some items I had to try on again and still debated their future.

About 100 pieces didn't make the cut. Many of the pants, tops, skirts and suits got good use, even though they were not my most flattering styles. A few were barely worn and probably shouldn't have been bought in the first place. Hopefully they will be just right for someone else. I know some good charities that will be happy to help find them a new home.

Next goal is to apply this same discipline to other parts of my life. Life is too precious to squander by doing or thinking or saying things that don't reflect well on me.

Same same

2011-08-26T13:07:00.000-04:00

I always enjoy seeing my surgeon, but I hope I never see him again. He expressed the same sentiment when I saw him today for my surgery follow-up visit.

The big news of the day was what I expected to hear, but had held out a little hope that I would not hear. The pathology report from this latest tumor was the same bad kind of stuff he had removed in Feb. 2009, just not as big. Officially, it was recurrent leiomyosarcoma, or what I will designate as Cancer 2.1.

I would like to quit counting now. I would like to not ever have to number another cancer. One breast cancer and two sarcomas is plenty.

Sarcomas tend to come back, but they don't have to. If prayers and positive support can keep a recurrence at bay, this sarcoma doesn't have a chance!

Pillow talk

2011-08-24T12:03:00.000-04:00

In most things I'm easy to please. I don't send food back in a restaurant. I prefer coffee with cream but can drink it black. I can listen to all kinds of music, I like watching all kinds of sports, and just about any wine is fine with me.

But when it comes to my pillow, I'm ridiculously particular. It's got to be fairly flat and fluff-able. Foam is a no-no. Firm pillows or pillows with too much stuffing give me a headache. I have been known to put a pillowcase on a hotel bath towel rather than use the fat pillows on the bed.

And I have no warm feelings for a pillow that has absorbed too much body heat. I am constantly flipping my pillow over in search of its cool side.

For my recent hospital stay, I was thrilled when the nurses told me it was OK to ask my husband to bring my pillow from home. The pain medicine helped me sleep that first night, but for the rest of my hospital stay, having my own pillow was a bigger comfort.

I was starting to think maybe it's time for me to grow up and improve my pillow tolerance, but then my older sister came to visit for a few days. I couldn't help but smile when she carried in her pillow from home along with her suitcase. Some comfort items are just worth hanging onto.

Rejuvenating

2011-08-22T14:30:00.001-04:00

For reasons maybe more psychological than I might admit, I felt compelled the day before my surgery to sharply cut back my out-of-control wave petunias. They had grown way out of their containers on my deck, losing some of their beauty as they turned too long and leggy.

I approached the petunias with pruners and faith. I knew from past experience they would grow back, even if they looked ugly for a little while. I pruned with zeal, and silently prayed that my surgeon would exercise more wisdom and restraint in his work the next morning.

In my first days back home from the hospital, my petunias and I were in similar states of recuperation. The promise of better health was there, but we were still feeling the effects of sharp blades.

Our progress continues to track each other. I am feeling stronger, and "normal" doesn't feel so distant. And my petunias, while not as robust as they once were, are definitely gaining strength as well.

Impatient

2011-08-18T12:34:00.000-04:00

I'm not very good at recuperation.

I do fine at sleeping in, but then I fight with myself the rest of the day. It is so foreign for me to take it easy that I naturally default to doing too much -- either by being on my feet longer than I should or even sitting at the computer too long. Then I wonder why I am achy and tired by afternoon.

And when I do finally make myself lie down again, I take guilt to bed with me. Ought I really be resting? Should I push through the aches to get stronger? Must I get back to the office, or even to the gym?

Then I try to remind myself: It's only been two weeks since I had major abdominal surgery!

I was blessed with being in good shape going into my surgery, and I have been blessed with a good recovery so far. Now all I need is a little patience to let the healing continue.

Naval attack!

2011-08-14T13:38:00.000-04:00

The doctors are usually pretty good about documenting every little thing they've done in the surgeries I've had, but they missed something this last time. In addition to cutting out a tumor and snipping out a little of my small intestine, they forgot to mention they had also performed a belly button removal!

I didn't even know my belly button was missing until I removed the steri-strip bandages across my incision today. Maybe the doctors didn't realize either, but it is nowhere to be seen.

Not that it ever got to be seen much anyway. Most of my belly-button-baring in recent years has been restricted to sunbathing by myself at home, or in trips to Buckeye Lake and Las Vegas. As for future sunbathing, I figure a naval-less tummy won't be the wierdest thing to be seen either at Buckeye Lake or in Las Vegas.

I might need a good story for the grandkids, though. Kids tend to be fascinated with belly buttons anyway. I keep picturing some future boat trip when I'll decide it's OK to wear a two-piece bathing suit because it's just family. And suddenly little Dodge or Logan will fix eyes on my belly and say, "Grandma, what happened to your beeboo?"

My answer will be simple. "I had some really great doctors who wanted to make sure I was here with you!"

The Dow what?

2011-08-10T10:20:00.000-04:00

I'm starting to feel singularly responsible for the nation's economy. How else do you explain the dramatic downturns that have accompanied my last two health crises?

In the fall of 2008, I remember a fog of scary newspaper headlines while I was preoccupied with my own bad news -- a nasty tumor that appeared suddenly in my gut and grew quickly. The economy contintued to struggle for months while I dealt with chemo and surgery. I felt bad for the ecomony, but I didn't have the energy or desire to indulge my usual joy of shopping.

Gradually we both returned to better health, the economy and I, and things were looking brighter until earlier this summer. Then, as economists and bond raters furrowed their brows at the growing U.S. debt and Congressional inaction, doctors frowned at my latest CT results. Nobody liked what they saw.

This week's market plunge coincided with my hospital stay, but hopefully the worst is over. I'm slowly regaining my strength, and the markets are trying to work their way back to health.

Now I'm more than curious: what was the state of the economy during my breast cancer battle in 1996-97? Either way, let's get on with a sustained recovery!

Back home again!

2011-08-09T08:49:00.000-04:00

I dreamed last night that I lived in an amazing house with the most wonderful amenities and immense comfort. And I woke up in that same mindset. My home hadn't changed during five days in the hospital, but my appreciation was much keener. I received great care in the hospital, but nothing beats being back home.

My surgery went well and the doctors said it was a best-case scenario. The tumor they removed was fully encapsulated, with no dreaded tendrils sneaking away to cause trouble elsewhere. No hysterectormy was necessary afterall, and I sacrificed just a bit of small intestine to which the tumor was attached. Everything else they could see in my innards looked clean, including lymph nodes.

The prayers that preceded me into the hospital and have followed me home are much appreciated. As I work through recuperation, my daily mantra is this: I am very blessed!

Cheers!

2011-08-03T11:23:00.000-04:00

I'm toasting to good friends. I'm toasting to good times. I'm toasting to good food. I'm toasting to toast. I'm toasting to anything I can think of to try to get this gallon jug emptied.

It's surgery prep day, and that means I am supposed to drink this awful stuff to clean up my innards, but I'm not very good at it.

I started right on time -- set the alarm clock for 6:45 so I could begin my cocktails at 7 a.m. And I have been drinking a glass every 15 minutes as directed -- but apparently my glass wasn't big enough. Instead of finishing the jug in two hours, it's been four hours now and I'm still not finished.

So here come more toasts -- to rainy mornings that I don't have to go to work, to emails letting me know I'm in the prayers of lots of people, to nearby bathrooms, to finally emptying the jug. Here's to you!

No Chemo Sabe?

2011-07-30T10:47:00.000-04:00

What comes after my upcoming surgery? That question was on my mind this week as I kept an appointment with the oncologist who has been watching over me since my Feb. 2009 sarcoma surgery.

Back in my first encounters with this physician, he scared me with talk of inpatient chemo as a means to keep a recurrence at bay. We settled then on close surveillance with no follow-up chemo, in part because I had just endured four months of chemo. Now I was wondering if he was going to sugggest inpatient chemo again after my Aug. 4 surgery.

He surprised me by saying we might opt again for close surveillance, and the reason was something I hadn't considered. Turns out some chemos carry lifetime maximums. Apparently the drugs I received in 1996-97 with breast cancer and the course in 2008-09 for sarcoma -- involving four of the most effective chemo drugs still in use -- aren't recommended to be taken repeatedly.

Follow-up treatment decisions won't be made until I see the oncologist again in September and we have biopsy results from the surgery. So now my feelings are mixed -- part relief that he is considering no chemo, and part dismay that my treatment options are limited.

Funny how you suddenly think you want something -- even as unpleasant as chemo -- as soon as someone suggests maybe you can't have it!

Here we go again

2011-07-23T11:11:00.000-04:00

Past readers of this blog will know immediately what my title means, and it's not heralding good news. But it's not terrible, either.

The physicians who have kept a close eye on me for nearly three years now saw something they didn't like in my latest CT scans. So I have a date with one of my favorite surgeons August 4 at OSU Medical Center.

I am not ready to pronounce this latest development as Cancer 2.1, but it is a suspected recurrence of the sarcoma I battled from the fall of 2008 through February 2009, when a 10-pound tumor was taken from my adbdomen. That it might be back is not a surprise; it's what my brand of sarcoma tends to do.

The good news is I feel great and have no symptoms other than a picture on a CT test. With my 1996 breast cancer and my Cancer 2.0, I felt lumps before doctors diagnosed malignancies.

And I am thankful I even had this last round of CTs. My oncologist had considered not doing another set of scans before my last four-month checkup. But I liked the security of hearing my innards were cancer-free, so he scheduled new tests at my request.

Just in case, I am starting my blog back up and putting out a call for prayers. Being able to express myself here, and knowing that family and friends were praying for my recovery was great medicine before, and I know it will be again.

Thanks in advance for putting in a good word for me!

Facing another birthday

2010-09-17T06:29:00.002-04:00

When it comes to birthdays, I have never grown up.

I still anticipate each one with the giddiness of a child. Those who approach their birthdays with dread mystify me. Birthdays always have and always will be an occasion for celebration to me, now even more than ever. What can be bad about marking the blessing of another year of life?

My birthday yesterday was made even more special by the greetings that popped into my e-mail all day via facebook. I am still a facebook novice and didn't realize so many people make it a habit to send birthday greetings to their facebook friends. I even had to ask someone how birthdays appear on facebook pages so I can make sure to return the greetings when other friends are celebrating their special days.

This birthday was also sweeter with the remembrance of a few dark days in the midst of my Cancer 2.0 when I wondered if I would have another birthday. I give thanks for my healing every day, and on special days like my birthday, I celebrate my good health even more.

I am very blessed, and sharing my birthday with facebook friends yesterday just multiplied my blessings.

Getting my fix

2010-09-04T07:49:00.003-04:00

I never get tired of a good report from the doctor. My latest check-up Wednesday followed a familiar routine that has become addictive.

First comes the blood draw for the necessary lab report, but it is not painful thanks to the medi-port that still sits just under the skin on my right shoulder blade. Next a medical technician checks me in, going through a list of questions to remind me how well I am doing as I answer negatively to queries about pain, fatigue or other problems. Then there are the too-slow minutes waiting in the exam room with unbidden what-if thoughts keeping me company.

Finally, the doctor appears in the doorway and my senses go on high alert. My eyes search his face for signals while my ears strain to hear the words that are my fix for the next several months: "Your scans are fine."

There were plenty of times in the days leading up to and shortly after my February 2009 surgery that I was really tired of what seemed to be endless visits to doctors. Now I look forward to the welcome validation of my health.

I have been deeply blessed, and every few months, a doctor reminds me so.

No pain, no gain

2010-08-28T21:16:00.003-04:00

I haven't abandoned my blog. Really! But the further I have traveled from the cancer that turned me to blogging in the first place, the less often I have written.

Some free time tonight lured me back to these pages. I was surprised to see more than a month had passed since I last shared thoughts in the blogosphere. It's not that every post was about my cancer. Some of my most favorite posts had nothing to do with my illness. They had more to do with focusing my thoughts on something other than how I was feeling or the sickness I was fighting. Writing sometimes let me escape and regroup.

Next weekend will be two years since I discovered the lump in my abdomen that quickly grew into a nightmare of doctor and hospital visits, chemo and hair loss, surgery and recovery. Not a day passes that I don't give thanks for my return to good health, and for the blessings that come from having faced cancer and moved on. The less I write, the more I realize what therapy it was for me to maintain this blog in the midst of my treatment.

I do miss the writing, but I don't miss what motivated it!

And many more

2010-07-17T07:52:00.002-04:00

This time a year ago, I was sitting in a hospital waiting room, nervously eying the door to the labor and delivery ward where my daughter and son-in-law were preparing to welcome their firstborn, a boy. They had arrived at the hospital late the night before but persuaded me and Tom to get some rest before coming to the hospital to greet our first grandchild.

I had great anticipation that morning, but I realize now I had no idea the joy this baby would bring. His first birthday invites my mind to replay many moments of wonder and awe at the special bond between grandparents and grandchildren.

It poses an interesting question: If this first year of being a grandparent was this amazing, how much more enjoyable will be the years to come? And if one grandchild is this much fun, does each successive grandbaby multiply the delight by that much more?

The journey ahead beckons, and I marvel at the blessing of being on this road of grandparenthood.

Love in bloom

2010-07-10T07:50:00.003-04:00

Something amazing is going on with hydrangeas this summer.

In years past, I can remember being happy if I coaxed even a half-dozen blooms from the large-leafed plant. I had carefully buried it 10 years ago at a corner of our house, nestled next to a downspout to ensure an extra drink whenever a heavy rain causes an overflow. Now it has more pink, blue and purple blossoms than I can count.

I know this plant is not the only hydrangea exploding with color this summer. I have taken notice of others around the neighborhood that are also in full flower.

My plant is special, though, as a reminder of my father. When he passed away, my best friend's family sent the hydrangea in a planter with their sympathy. I have never been one to visit grave sites to remember lost loved ones, but I always send a little greeting up to my dad in heaven when I spy his hydrangea.

With this summer's abundance of flowers, I have been able to keep a long-lasting display in a large vase on my kitchen counter, keeping thoughts of my dad even closer.

Weather or not

2010-07-04T08:37:00.003-04:00

On this beautiful holiday morning, I can't help but think of a 4th of July years ago that remains one of my favorites, despite horrible weather.

As glorious as today is, that 4th was gloomy. It was rainy and unusually cold for early July, but we had made plans for an outing to Buckeye Lake, and we were not to be deterred. The "we" was me, Tom, Mandy and Ben, and my parents. It must have been 20 years ago, because I recall Mandy and Ben being about 10 and 6.

We gathered some snacks, loaded the cooler with drinks and headed east. It was not pleasant to be on the water in the steady drizzle, even under the boat's metal canopy, so we sought more pleasant surroundings down a canal to one of the lake's smaller dockside bars. The rain had kept most others away; there was just one other patron inside. But as often happened with my dad, it was someone he knew. We were not surprised when he greeted the man he had known from the first grade!

I was surprised, though, when my mom picked up a cue stick and started playing pool with my children. I don't think I had ever seen her play pool before that day, even though we had a table in the basement growing up, and I haven't seen her play since, even though we have a table in our basement. But playing pool was what the day called for to entertain her grandchildren, so that's what she did!

That long-ago Independence Day stands out for me because it showcased two endearing traits of my parents. Dad found friends wherever he went; Mom always focuses on her children and grandchildren.

Hot and sunny, today will be picture-perfect for another Buckeye Lake outing with Mom, and I'll be smiling as memories of a long-ago Fourth accompany us.

How are you?

2010-06-26T08:31:00.003-04:00

Simple enough question, but do we really hear the answer when we greet people with that query?

A work acquaintance brought me up short with his answer recently. And then I smiled as I considered his reply.

"I am blessed," he had said matter-of-factly. A couple of beats later, and with a big grin, I told him, "So am I!"

When I asked him further about his response to that question we so routinely ask and answer without thought, he said someone had recently told him "I am grateful" when he had asked how she was. The unexpected answer prompted him to give a more considered response when people greeted him with that almost-unheard question.

How nice it would be if we could all acknowledge our blessings so freely. After all, if we are as "well" as most of us tend to say in response to the standard "How are you?" greeting, we truly are blessed.

The closer you look

2010-05-29T07:46:00.002-04:00

Today is one of those glorious days that starts out as a blank white canvas waiting to become a masterpiece. Just hope I don't mess it up.

The trepidation creeping into my outlook is a familiar fear that has my mother's voice echoing in my mind's ear. "The closer you look, the more you see to do." In Mom's recounting of that mantra many times while I was growing up, it usually had to do with cleaning the house. She'd start on one chore and it would spawn three more. I encounter this axiom with multiple applications, not just cleaning.

This might be a good day to start downloading some computer files onto a new portable hard drive I picked up this week in preparation for eventually getting a new computer. But can I just start downloading files without reorganizing them? Or maybe I should explore the Memorial Day sales to shop for good deals on a new computer right now. And what about all those other great sales I know I will see if I head to the store?

Then there are the extra Lazy Susan turntables I have left over after picking up several for new cabinets in the kitchen. If I try to put one in the pantry, I will be tempted to clean out and reorganize all the shelves. Using one upstairs in the bathroom vanity poses the same challenge of turning into a much bigger job.

Outside tasks also beckon. The tomato plants in the garden need to be staked. But playing in the dirt in one corner of the yard could lead to an all-day affair. I know I will look around and see the flower beds need to be edged, and spent blooms need to be dead-headed. And while I'm at it, wouldn't it be fun to run over to my daughter's house and play in her flower beds, too?

Maybe if I don't put my contacts in today, I can limit my vision so I don't see so much to do.

Seeing pink

2010-05-22T06:44:00.004-04:00

I will always remember the first Race for the Cure I participated in as a breast cancer survivor. It was still a fairly new and unknown event in Columbus as a group of us from work gathered at the start of the course. One of my coworkers looked from the white T-shirt she was wearing to the pretty pink hue of my shirt and commented innocently, "Oh, I want a pink shirt!"

Another survivor and I, who were acutely aware of the significance of our pink shirts, immediately started laughing. Oh no, you don't, we assured our friend.

It was understandable in 1997 that someone participating in the race for the first time might not realize the pink shirts were reserved for those who had faced breast cancer. But for those of us wearing survivor shirts, being able to quickly identify our brethren was amazingly powerful. We wore them proudly, and we walked or ran to keep others from having to join our ranks. We caught each other's eye and smiled in understanding, our own dreams for continued survival buoyed by each pink shirt we encountered.

Columbus' Race for the Cure has grown to one of the largest, with last weekend's 2010 race attracting an amazing 52,000 participants. Such popularity should bring great appreciation and deference for the significance of the pink shirts. I was dismayed, though, to quickly see we survivors had lost our status.

Pink shirts were everywhere, but not just the official survivors' brand. Some matching pink shirts were worn by small groups of people walking in memory or in honor of a loved one. Pink has become so synonymous with the fight against breast cancer, some just wore it as a way to show support for the cause. But no matter how well-meaning, the masqueraders robbed me of the simple joy of being able to reach across the throngs and connect with strangers who shared a profound bond.

I sent a note this week to the director of the Columbus race, congratulating her team for their success and encouraging them to restore the pink shirts to their rightful status for survivors-only in future races. They try to get that message out, she said, but it is not always received.

Looks like I have a new challenge to help tackle for the 2011 race. Let me know if you have good ideas for helping to Preserve the Pink!

Tea time

2010-05-08T16:04:00.002-04:00

There's something about hot tea that is so different from its caffeinated cousin, coffee.

Coffee equates with the morning rush. Get up, gulp some coffee, get going. No time to dawdle. Time to move out and tackle the day ahead. If coffee beckons again later in the day, it is likely because of a perceived need for a wake-up boost.

Tea, for me, is all about taking a breather and slowing down. Weekend afternoons have become a favorite tea time for me. It's hard not to sit down and relax a minute with a cup of hot tea at hand.

It could have something to do with how I take my tea. With coffee, I add creamer and a bit of skim milk. They are as much to cool the coffee so I can drink it faster as they are to alter the flavor. A bit of honey or organic blue agave sweetener is all I add to my tea. I have to slow down and wait a minute to drink it -- first for the tea to steep in the hot water and then for the fragrant beverage to cool enough to sip.

Lately, I have started drinking tea at the office -- sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon. Maybe it's a subconscious message to myself that I need to slow down a bit at work, too.

Whatever you do

2010-05-07T05:57:00.003-04:00

My children know how to complete the phrase that I started with the title to this post. I learned it from my mother and passed it along to Mandy and Ben. I hope they do the same. The entire saying goes like this: "Whatever you do, do with all your might. Things half done are never done right."

It has been great guidance for my life, but it struck me last weekend that sometimes it is OK to go halfway. Sometimes halfway is far enough to give you a good look at something, to tell you it would be better to stop right there and regroup.

Mandy and I were walking a half-marathon when we agreed doing half of the half would be enough. (I like the irony of it -- the notion of doing a half-marathon was already sending a message that occasionally half can be the whole.) The rain was insistent as we approached the six-mile mark and a point in the 13.1 mile route that was close to the finish line.

We knew we could finish; we had done it in October, but we also knew we hadn't trained as we should have, and we both had busy days ahead of us. We took the shortcut over to the finish line to wait for Andy to cross, knowing he could run the full 13 miles in little more than the time it took us to walk half the distance.

Not finishing was the right decision this time, but not being able to cross the finish line ourselves helped to rededicate us to preparing for the next time. Mandy has dug out the training schedule we used a couple of years ago. It will be fun to follow it again with a slight modification: this time we'll be taking along the baby in his jogging stroller!

Redirecting

2010-05-02T07:35:00.002-04:00

As I signed into my blog this morning, an interesting milestone caught my eye. I have made 200 posts to this blog since I created it in October 2008 to chronicle my journey from Cancer 2.0 to good health.

When I started, this exercise was much-needed therapy for my psyche. The most important accomplishment of some days was to identify the beauty and grace of my experience and capture it for deeper reflection. Looking inward helped me to know many good things were happening even as I faced bleak prospects of difficult medical treatment and uncertain outcomes. And sometimes I tickled my own funny bone just to amuse myself. I didn't know my blog would also be good medicine for some of my readers, but that aided my healing, too.

Post number 201 seems like a good time to declare a new direction for this blog. I will still focus on striving for health but in a much broader sense. Surviving cancer is a small blip, an "oh, by the way" of my life. There are new daily challenges to celebrate. I am ready to expand and rejuvenate my dedication to personal exploration through this blog.

Next up -- the half marathon that didn't get completed yesterday, but for all the right reasons.

Naming rights

2010-04-10T09:32:00.002-04:00

I have a bad habit of naming people I don't know. I mostly give nicknames to folks I see regularly but don't interact with, such as people who go to the gym at the same time I do weekday mornings. I mentally say "hello" to them as we go about our workouts, intent on our own exercises and rarely making eye contact.

My favorites include Grimace, who always has a pained look on his face, and Chicken Man and Chicken Woman, who are probably very nice but their pinched features prompt me to think of them as poultry people. Chicken Man looked at me and smiled once, and then I was ashamed for what I had named him. Another one I've probably got all wrong is Terrorist, a smallish young man of dark hair and skin who wildly waves his arms heavenward on the treadmill, as if praising a foreign deity. I think I'm on the money, though, with Step Away, who works out regularly but really needs to step away from the buffet table.

The lesson here is that people probably name me, too. The women who see me in the locker room might call me Scar Belly for my long souvenir of last year's cancer surgery. That would be accurate for only one small piece of who I am. So, I need to project the image of who I would be proud to be named. Smiley would be nice!

New life

2010-04-04T06:12:00.002-04:00

On this Easter morning, it is fitting to reflect on the abundance of blessings God has bestowed on me.

A year ago I was still in fragile recovery from Cancer 2.0. I had endured a terrifying diagnosis, dealt with the challenges of chemotherapy and struggled back to health from major abdominal surgery. By the first few days of last April, I had just returned to work and was looking forward to the birth of my first grandchild. Things were looking brighter, but I was also afraid of getting too optimistic about the future. This morning I am in awe of how richly I have been blessed.

Easter would not dawn as bright and beautiful if not in contrast to the solemn message of Good Friday. Sometimes we have to experience fear and despair to appreciate what is good and right in our lives. This morning I am renewed, and I pray that God will use me to be a blessing to others.

Girlfriends

2010-03-20T04:37:00.002-04:00

Sometimes what seems like the worst time to do something is the best time.

Earlier this year, four high school girlfriends and I picked last weekend for a rare overnight outing. As the time for our trip approached, it became clear to me that it would occur just as I was entering an incredibly busy time at work. I was facing deadlines to prepare for some important meetings, several day trips around the state and a trip out of town for an annual conference at which I will be making a presentation to peers from around the country. The home front was also hectic as Tom and I celebrated our 36th wedding anniversary in the middle of renovating our kitchen.

How could I possibly take time out for myself with so much to do? How could I not?

Our girls' weekend turned out to be one of the best tonics I could have taken in preparation for the busy time ahead. We shopped our way south, checked into adjoining rooms at a casino hotel, gambled a little, giggled a lot and shopped our way back home the next day.

As I buckled down at work this week, photos and recollections of our fun time together popped into my e-mail inbox, putting a smile on my heart that lightened my load. I expect the memories will continue to lift me as I head into these next two busy weeks. There is nothing my girlfriends can do to help me cross any to-do's off my list, but the time spent with them gave me the renewed spirit that will carry me across the finish line. That's what girlfriends do best!

Blessed!

2010-03-06T07:10:00.002-05:00

I put on a brave front, but was anxious as I waited to see the doctor this week to receive results of my three-month CT scans. In the days leading up to the appointment, I kept checking my abdomen for any signs of lumps. My belly would tense as I probed and asked myself, "Scar tissue or cancer?"

Even as the doctor entered the room, I tried to read his expression and for a moment was certain the news was bad. "Your reports are fine," he quickly said after greeting me. I tried not to signal my relief too loudly.

In a post-cancer world, no matter how confident you try to feel about recovery, every ache or pain is a recurrence. I know that thought tendency will abate over time, but it is still hard to give myself permission to always believe I will be OK. As this last checkup approached, I chose not to ask for prayers in church for good results, and then feared I was being arrogant to put on a positive front that presumed I didn't still need such prayers.

I am very blessed, and I know many prayers for my health have been offered up whether I publicly requested them or not. I will be sharing my good results in church tomorrow and saying thanks for those who have kept me in their thoughts and prayers all along.

No looking back

2010-02-27T15:57:00.002-05:00

"Someday" became "now" for me today.

For years, I have wanted to make some kitchen upgrades. The counters are a tired, plain white. The cooking appliances are barely adequate -- an electric cooktop that struggles to get hot enough for dishes like stirfry, a narrow wall oven with one rack and a mediocre microwave.

College tuition for two children was the major priority that pushed my kitchen dream to the background. Then along came Cancer 2.0, giving me days when my view of the future was so short I wondered about investing in new underwear, let alone a new kitchen.

Now I am ready for a kitchen that I plan to enjoy for a long time. I spent time this week with my interior-designer sister-in-law making decisions on fun things like a new Silgranite sink and a faucet with a pull-out spray nozzle and narrowing the choices on granite counter tops. This afternoon I ordered a dual-fuel slide-in range and a combination wall oven with microwave and convection cooking. It was with great faith in a healthy future that I handed my credit card to the appliance salesman.

Last week I had my three-month follow-up CT scans, but I'm not anxious about the results I'll get on Wednesday. It feels good and right to be moving ahead to realize a long-held dream and not planning my future in small increments between doctor's visits.

Baby apps

2010-02-21T07:39:00.002-05:00

I was feeding my grandson his rice cereal and squash yesterday when there was a lull in the action. My cell phone was sitting nearby, so I reached over to check a new e-mail indicated by the flashing red light. I clicked off e-mail and back to the screen saver. Then I saw Dodge eying my phone intently and smiling one of his biggest smiles of the day.

How cute, I thought. He has seen the photo of himself that I took the day he was born. It appears on my screen when I am not using the phone for other purposes. I figured he would also enjoy seeing himself on the digital picture frame his parents gave us for Christmas, so I positioned the frame where he could watch it while I finished feeding him. He did occasionally watch the photos scrolling across the digital frame the rest of the evening, but he never got as excited about them as he had when he spied me checking my phone.

When my daughter picked up the baby last night, I mentioned to her how tickled he had gotten when he saw his picture on my phone. Mandy started laughing, and then, demonstrating with her own Blackberry, she showed me what was really going through her seven-month-old's mind.

She has downloaded a free, baby-proof application that lets Dodge press keys without accidentally placing phone calls or otherwise using her phone in a way she might regret. His reward for each key is a brightly colored block that floats across the screen while a child's voice clearly announces the letter on the key.

Having the same phone as Mandy, I also now have the same "Baby Go!" app. Dodge is coming over again tonight, and my phone is on the charger.

One year later

2010-02-13T15:05:00.002-05:00

A year ago, I was in a bad way.

I was lying in a hospital bed with a tube through my nose pulling dark green bile from my stomach and two drains in my right side pulling watery blood from my abdomen. A large, malignant tumor had been surgically removed the day before, Feb. 12, 2009, and for that I was beyond grateful.

As Valentine's Day came, my hospital room was brightened with beautiful flowers, bright red bows and greeting cards, but there were no chocolates, red wine or romantic dinners. It would be nearly a week before I would be allowed to eat anything, and several weeks before I really enjoyed eating again. Now Tom and I are looking forward to dinner at a favorite restaurant tomorrow night.

I didn't really mind not celebrating Valentine's Day last year. I was just glad to be celebrating life; thrilled to be rid of the mass that had been haunting most waking thoughts for the previous five months. I was ready to begin my recovery and to prepare for the birth of my first grandchild.

This year, Valentine's Day has deep new meaning. The first card has already arrived, and I have never received one more special. The cherub gracing this card is my grandson. In adorable photos taken my daughter, Dodge plays with a plastic, heart-shaped, red cookie cutter and a large, pink-swirled sucker in the shape of a heart.

As challenging as my circumstances may have seemed a year ago, they could not be much brighter now. I am blessed with good health and surrounded by great love.

Finishing

2010-02-06T09:15:00.004-05:00

I hate leaving a project undone. Big or small, major or mundane, I just don't like dragging around the weight of too many things on my to-do list. So it was with reluctance that I packed a half-done, brown brocade ballgown into a plastic storage container in my basement in the fall of 2008.

I had started making the dress with great anticipation that summer, envisioning how pretty I would feel as I accompanied my husband to dances at some of his Civil War reenactment events. Midway through the project, I was working on the tight-fitting bodice when I discovered the lump that turned out to be a fast-growing cancer in my abdomen.

Now, on the other side of chemotherapy, surgery and a return to good health, I pulled the container out, unpacked my sewing machine and returned to my project. As I pinned, stitched and pressed the fabric to completion, I offered up prayers of thanksgiving and marveled at the journey this dress will always symbolize for me.

I did, indeed, feel beautiful as my husband and I joined the Grand March into the Statehouse Atrium last Saturday night for the annual Civil War-era winter ball. It was not just that the dress turned out as pretty as I had envisioned. My euphoria came from being able to finish what I started when my battle with Cancer 2.0 began.

Pennies from heaven

2010-01-30T08:14:00.002-05:00

See a penny; pick it up. All that day you'll have good luck.

I am an incorrigible penny-picker-upper. It makes me smile to find money on the ground, even in that smallest denomination, because I view it as a good luck symbol. It's part of my optimist nature, but it's even more than that: I choose to look for signs that life is good and to indulge myself in a smile when I see them.

A year or so ago, I decided I needed another harbinger of good luck and settled on stray bobby pins. I refrain from picking them up, but spying one on the floor of a parking garage or sidewalk or in a locker room shower at the gym gives me the same little lift as a found penny. "It's going to be a good day," I promise myself.

Not finding a penny or not seeing a forgotten bobby pin on the ground doesn't make it a bad day. It's the expectation of good fortune that sets my outlook. I try to start out every day fully intending to experience God's blessings in my life. Lucky charms that cross my path are just my personal reminders that life is good.

Rallying the troops

2010-01-16T12:32:00.003-05:00

The farther each day carries me from my surgery last February, the harder it is to remember my ordeal with Cancer 2.0. It is a wonderful blessing, but I really don't want to forget what I went through, and I especially don't want to let down my guard against a recurrence.

That is why I like to take time every day to focus inward to keep my defenses strong and ready. I lay quietly with my hands on my abdomen, directing energy to the area where the tumor sprouted and grew in the fall of 2008. Then I picture myself standing tall as an army general, Patton-like, calling my troops to battle. My mantra goes something like this:

"Attention: Anti-cancer cells! Cancer-fighting crusaders! Pick-axing angels! Your assignment, now and forever, is to seek out and destroy any and all cancer cells in my body.

"Do not let them multiply! Do not let them establish a foothold or gain any ground. Find them wherever them may be, and kill them on contact. Take no prisoners, but destroy them immediately!

"Is that clear? Alright. Now go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!"

Some people believe there really is power and healing in how we direct our thoughts. I don't need scientific proof to know this regular reveille helps maintain my outlook that the cancer won't return.

Resolved

2010-01-02T09:09:00.002-05:00

I think we've got this New Year's resolutions thing backwards. By making resolutions at the beginning of the year, it's like we slap our worst flaws on a neon sign and then announce to the world what we are likely to fail at in the coming year.

If you are really committed to doing whatever it is that you "resolve" to do in the new year, wouldn't you have done it already? And if something really is a resolution, doesn't that word mean a problem has already been fixed?

Instead, as one year winds down and we plow toward the next, we continue the bad behaviors and problem habits that we swear we're going to address as we flip the calendar over.

My New Year's Day thoughts played with this notion yesterday. What if we instead celebrate the fresh new calendar by acknowledging our successes of the previous year? Wouldn't that give us extra momentum to deal with our shortcomings throughout the year so that we really will have new victories to hail with the new year?

For me, 2010 begins with a celebration of the challenge from 2008 and 2009 that has been resolved -- my Cancer 2.0. With that behind me, the possibilities of this coming year are endless.

Merriest Christmas!

2009-12-25T08:03:00.002-05:00

The presents are still unopened under the tree but this is already the best Christmas yet. The blessing of my own good health is an amazing gift. But God gives more than we can ever hope to receive, as we are reminded every day with the richness our grandson has added to our lives.

Tom and I didn't just sit and play with our own children the way we do with this grandbaby. There is a twinge of sadness with that realization, but that is part of what makes being grandparents so special. We get another chance to love and adore and appreciate this little person in ways that we were too busy or too inexperienced to do with Mandy and Ben.

As I finished wrapping presents yesterday, more than once my mind wandered back to last Christmas. A year ago I was still undergoing chemotherapy but the tumor in my belly was growing again and I was looking forward to surgery as the only way to effectively attack my Cancer 2.0. My prayer then was to get the tumor out and recover enough to help Mandy take care of the baby she was due to deliver in July.

As I tried last year to look ahead to this Christmas, I thought the most I could hope for was to not have a recurrence of cancer by now. In my darkest moments, I wondered if I would even see this Christmas.

On this day of Christ's birth, my prayers have been more than answered.

Tickled

2009-12-23T19:23:00.002-05:00

My annual family calendar has been giving my printer a workout all day, culminating a task that weighs me down but also lifts me up. Mostly, it lets me tickle my own funny bone.

Making the Mock Flock calendar has become my personal tradition, starting in 1999. Birthdays and anniversaries are the staple, but as I look back on that first calendar's grainy photos and lack of creativity, I am amazed I even thought it was worth continuing. Over the years, as we have upgraded our computer and bought new calendar software, I have supplemented the much-improved photos by adding fictional stories, made-up quotes and fantasy thought bubbles. The whole exercise amuses me more and more each year.

When November rolls around, the project weighs on me until I finally get it underway. Then as soon as I dig in, the fun begins. Tom is the only one who gets to peek while the project is in process, and he knows better than to suggest major revisions unless I ask his advice.

The format is new this year. The "Mock Flock Gazette" newspaper approach had a good run for a couple of years, leading to last year's personal ads. I won't know until the grand unveiling on Christmas Day whether I've come up with a winner for 2010, but I sure had fun creating it!

Catching the spirit

2009-12-13T08:01:00.002-05:00

I am more behind than ever, and feeling more caught up in the Christmas spirit than if my to-do list were in better shape. It's all because of a baby.

My weekends are not my own these days. A good part of the day Saturdays, most Fridays after work and Thursday evenings are devoted to a bundle of boy who commands attention that is not easily divided among other pursuits. He likes to be held. Even if he's playing in his circular seat surrounded by all sorts of toys to grab and gum, he likes to know I am nearby.

As a result, I have spent countless hours sitting and relaxing with my grandson rather than rushing from store to store. The annual "Mock Flock" calendar I have made for my extended family for more than a decade now has yet to be started. At this rate, family members will be lucky to get it sometime in January.

The funny thing is how much at peace I am with not crossing things off my list of Christmas chores. The smiles little Dodge delivers, the innocence of his face in slumber (even if it's a brief catnap) and the content he conveys while taking his bottle are all that's important. Anything else can wait, or maybe doesn't need to be done at all.

More than once, while holding this precious boy and listening to Christmas carols on the radio, I have thought how smart God was to bring his Son to us as a baby. It's so easy to know love and wonder while beholding an infant.

Transitions

2009-12-08T04:54:00.002-05:00

We had a wonderful visit from my son last week, but I was surprised by the emotions that surfaced after he left. Ben won't be here for Christmas, so we tried to start decorating the house to give him a bit of a feel for having been home for the holiday. We got as far as the outside lights and putting the tree up inside -- but without all the ornaments on it -- before he had to leave on Saturday morning.

There was something about saying goodbye to him, and then having our grandson here on Saturday evening, that underscored the feelings washing over me. Wasn't Ben just the baby boy in my arms the other day? How did those years pass so quickly?

The roller coaster continued on Sunday as I finally got the rest of the decorations up, including the 1984 bulb commemorating Ben's first Christmas and some ornaments he made for me over the years. My thoughts tripped back and forth from being so thankful he is happy and doing well in the South to knowing it will be tough not having him here with us on Christmas morning. My heart went out to other mothers who have lost their sons; mine is only a few states away.

I keep thinking about the e-mail Ben sent when he arrived safely back in Mississippi, and about the conversation I had with him later on Saturday night. It was good to know he enjoyed his visit home, but that he was happy to be back where he has been living since March and where he is enjoying a new relationship with a special young woman. His e-mail subject line said it all: "I'm home!" Yes, he is.

New me!

2009-12-04T09:44:00.003-05:00

I have finally updated the photo of myself on this blog. (I think I updated it on Facebook, too, but that's another story. Still don't know how all this technology works!)

The old photo was from almost a year ago. It was taken on the occasion of Ben's OSU graduation, so it is fitting to update the picture this week, while Ben is visiting from his new home in Mississippi. I was wearing my first wig in the old photo, and the picture was taken before I accidentally fried my bangs in a New Year's Eve cooking mishap, which prompted me to get the second wig.

My new photo is with my real hair, which has grown back nicely since chemo ended in January. The curl that marked the initial regrowth is waning now, as I thought it would. My goal is to get it back to about the length it was for Mandy and Andy's wedding in 2006.

Here's the best reason of all for updating my photo -- the good report I had from the doctor this week. My most recent MRI showed no new concerns and no problems with the areas we have been watching! As a result, my OSU oncologist has lengthened my leash and doesn't need to see me again until March! The coming holidays are feeling very, very happy!

Thanksgiving renewal

2009-11-29T08:50:00.003-05:00

A year ago I devoted several blog posts to recounting my blessings. And that was in the middle of chemo treatments for a stubborn tumor that would remain in my gut for another three months before finally being excised! How much more blessed am I today, having enjoyed nine months of recovery and good health and the birth of my first grandchild?

Yet why is it that in the midst of the best times, we are more reticent in proclaiming the goodness around us? That is the irony that has me feeling ashamed this morning for neglecting this journal and for taking any aspect of my life for granted.

Thank goodness for the season that is now upon us! We shouldn't need a special holiday for thanks-giving, but it is a great reminder that there is much for which to be thankful, whether you have faced a cancer scare or not.

In this coming week, I will hear the results of last week's follow-up MRI, and I pray it will be continued good news. I know a troubling diagnosis would drive me back to this blog more regularly for the solace it offers, helping me reach out to friends and family for their support. How much better if I could use this blog not for myself but to help others find what they need to get through the day! My prayer today is to be thankful every day and to use my renewed health for God's greater purpose.

Whole new wardrobe

2009-11-21T08:15:00.002-05:00

"Nice suit," my coworker remarked yesterday. "Ann Taylor?"

Her comment stopped me short. I couldn't remember the origin of the dark jacket and slacks. All I knew was it came from my great new place for fall and winter clothes -- the spare closet in my daughter's old bedroom. That's where I had moved clothing last fall that I could no longer fit into because of the growing tumor in my abdomen.

Later in the day I checked the label and saw my colleague's guess had been correct. Then I remembered the wonderful day of shopping I had enjoyed with my sister in August 2008 during a trip with our husbands to Las Vegas. We had perused great stores up one side of the Strip and back down, including two different Ann Taylors. But as the weather grew cooler last year and I started eying the purchases I had made for my fall and winter wardrobe, I could not zip or button the wool suit that had fit perfectly in August.

I remember the sadness I felt last year while moving my unwearable clothes -- some of them brand new -- out of sight to the spare closet. The memory makes it all the sweeter now to move those clothes back where they belong.

New eyes

2009-11-07T06:32:00.002-05:00

I am seeing with new eyes this morning, and my improved vision is spiritual as much as it is physical.

The physical improvement is amazing! I visited the eye doctor yesterday and told her my sad story: I couldn't read anything close without putting on my cheater glasses. I had them deployed in strategic places -- in a half dozen places around the house, in my office and in my purse. My sunglasses even had bifocal lenses for reading. I wore my contacts only once or twice a week because they didn't help much at all.

I left the eye doctor's with new multi-focal contacts and instructions to try to go without using the cheaters while testing the lenses for the next week. What cheaters? I glanced at my watch and immediately saw I wouldn't need reading lenses over these contacts. At work, I reached for my glasses a couple of times out of habit but never needed to bring them up to my eyes.

The clarity of my new contacts is a nice metaphor for the revelations that have come with my Cancer 2.0 experience of the last year. The eye-opening was not as sudden, but I see life differently now for having faced a serious medical challenge and experienced the grace and comfort of God's love and the amazing support of family and friends to get through it.

A wonderful treat awaits me later today. A large part of my positive outlook on life these days is less about my cancer recovery than it is the tiny bundle that is my grandson. I can't wait to look into his face with my new vision!

Off the list

2009-10-25T15:51:00.003-04:00

Try as we might to be humble and selfless, there is something about human nature that prompts most of us to look for our own names when any kind of list is posted, be it for bad news or good. This morning I looked as usual for my name at the end of the alphabetical prayer list in the Sunday bulletin at church and was a little surprised when it wasn't there.

I hadn't asked the church to take my name off, but I had grown increasingly uncomfortable with seeing it there. I have been feeling so healthy and strong, and all my tests lately have been good, so I had wondered if it was time to let go of that lifeline.

My mixed thoughts were similar to when my treatment for breast cancer finally ended in 1997; glad to be done with needing the treatment but also feeling a bit naked to go without it.

Being off the church's prayer list is freeing. It is another confirmation that I am well. I hope it is also an omen to others who remain on the list that their time to turn the corner to good health is coming.

A long walk

2009-10-18T17:05:00.004-04:00

A year ago today I was experiencing my first "chemo crash" from having received a double dose of drugs the Friday before. It was tough, but I had high expectations for killing off the cancer cells growing in my abdomen, so my spirits were good.

Fast forward 365 days. There are similarities in that parts of today were also tough, and there was a bit of a crash, but I'll take walking a half-marathon over a double dose of chemo any day. The trek today through Downtown Columbus and several surrounding neighborhoods is nothing compared to my journey of the past 12 months.

On that day a year ago, I remember having trouble walking from the bed upstairs to the sofa downstairs. That was about the extent of my exercise that day. Today, I walked 13.1 miles with my daughter. My son-in-law ran the Columbus Half Marathon but Mandy and I were just as proud of our finish in less than four hours; it was mostly about finishing it.

The original game plan was for this to have occurred last year. Mandy had registered the three of us. Then she and I spent much of last summer training for it with progressively longer walks. When Mandy hurt her foot while training and I discovered the lump in my abdomen, the Columbus Marathon folks carried our registration over to this year.

Mandy's year has been one of great accomplishment as well. She is now the proud mother of Dodge, who wasn't yet on the horizon when we had to postpone our 13-mile walk last year.

We can't know what obstacles the other walkers, the runners and the hand-cyclers overcame to get to the finish line today, but I doubt crossing it was much sweeter for any of them than it was for us.

Threes

2009-10-17T09:08:00.003-04:00

I need a new prayer list.

During my Cancer 2.0 ordeal of the past year, I started keeping a written list of people for whom I wanted to pray. I had been so touched by hearing from others that I was on their personal prayer list, I knew I needed a list of my own.

They say death comes in threes, so I was a bit anxious when two women on my prayer list died recently within a week of each other. I heard at work yesterday morning about the death of a third -- the only daughter of someone I know professionally. I had never met Samantha, but the story of her courageous fight with a blood cancer had touched me.

Now I am struggling to reconcile my feelings about having lost three people from my prayer list in such a short period. I know it is irrational, but I can't help wonder if I didn't pray hard enough, or often enough, for the people on my list. Then there is the comfort that none of these three is suffering any more. Each of them had endured a very difficult year fighting their various cancers. My experience was mild by comparison.

Prayers are answered, I know, but not always in ways we anticipate or would design. As I redo my prayer list today, I will ask God to increase my faith that His plan is greater than we can imagine.

Alleluia!

2009-10-13T04:38:00.002-04:00

I am so excited I can hardly stand it. I finally have some breathing room!

While I have been feeling great for months now, there was always a little "but...." tacked on to each new test result. Every time the doctors would order a follow-up test to look closer at some new spot or shadow, the area under suspicion would pass muster, but some new finding would crop up that needed further examination. It was like being on a tether that would only let me reach so far to freedom.

Yesterday, the leash finally broke! My primary oncologist had asked the thoracic surgeon to see me after Friday's chest CT and MRI of the lower back. I braced to hear about some new development as I met with the doctor and his assistant, or even worse, that the spots they were watching merited concern. Instead, the doctor said the latest tests showed very good news, and he didn't add any "buts!"

A hymn we sang in church a couple of weeks ago is running through my head this morning. "Make my life an alleluia" seems very appropriate to my current frame of mind. Given that my medical care since February's surgery has been at OSU, I am also thinking of the university's tag line in recent years: Do something great!

There's nothing like a serious health threat being lifted to make you recommitted to making the most of your life. Can I get an "Amen?"

PETs and haircuts

2009-10-07T05:48:00.003-04:00

I'm playing hooky from the gym this morning. My workout buddy has notified me she wouldn't be there, so I am grabbing this time to chronicle good news from my latest doctor's visit: my PET scan from last week showed no signs of cancer in the two areas under surveillance from prior tests. My liver and lungs were clear!

The scenario playing out yesterday afternoon is becoming familiar. Follow-up medical tests on the spots we were watching failed to show any confirmation of problems, but a couple of new shadows appeared, bringing other areas under watch. When the doctor stepped out of the room after reporting on the PET scan, Tom and I shared smiles and a layer of tension neither of us had wanted to acknowledge lifted.

PET scans use a radioactive glucose injection to highlight hypermetabolic hot spots that could indicate the presence of cancer or other problems. MRIs were scheduled for two new, slight shadows in my chest and lower back, but the doctor is more cautious than concerned. The chest may be nothing; the spine could be a touch of arthritis. Better to take a closer look to be certain, the doctor said.

With each new series of tests, I am reminded of how generously I am blessed, and I give thanks for all the many prayers that have carried me through this past year.

I am seeing a new hair stylist this evening to give a bit more shape to my curls. I had hoped I wouldn't need to cancel the appointment because of the prospect of new chemotherapy. Happily, I will tell her I plan to let my hair grow for a while!

Girlfriends and angels

2009-10-07T05:17:00.003-04:00

Five friends from high school -- including my best friend since grade school -- got together for dinner the other night. We have been seeing more of each other in recent months, holding tight to our friendship in honor of a sixth who had moved out West years ago and was having a tough time with cancer. This week's dinner was especially important because our ailing friend, nicknamed "Bird," had lost her fight a few days earlier.

The first two to arrive were sharing a 1970 photo of the two of them with Bird. It was a beautiful fall evening and our meeting place was the outdoor patio of a new restaurant we had been wanting to try. As the two reminisced about happier times full of promise, an especially bright shaft of evening light caused them to look up just in time to see a small, white feather float out of nowhere and gently light on the empty sixth chair at the head of the table.

I was the last one there, and as I started to take the closest open spot, the others cried out, "Don't sit there! That's Bird's seat!" Then I heard the story of how she had joined our party that evening.

More memories were shared and old pictures were passed around the table. None of us doubted that the tiny feather was anything but a happy greeting from our friend who had passed. At some point during the gathering, Bird was suddenly gone. She had flitted away unseen by any of us, and that was very much in character. She was always a free spirit, and we will miss her.

What the doctor ordered

2009-09-27T12:33:00.002-04:00

My vacation week that is now in wind-down mode could not have been better. (Well, maybe the weather could have been a lot drier for the long drive home that ended in the wee hours of this morning, but that was the only downside.)

It's hard to beat a week away from work and its daily stresses to relax with some of your favorite people in the world, especially when one of those people is your first grandchild. We all agreed we could see baby Dodge grow and get stronger and more alert over the course of the week. His sweet disposition was perfect, even during the long drives that stretched to 15 hours with stops to eat, stretch and fill up the gas tank.

Tom and I had taken a vacation trip to Gettysburg about this time last year, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely, but my anxiousness over the diagnosis I was awaiting and the rapidly growing lump in my abdomen combined to put me in extreme pain by the time we drove home from that trip.

I tumbled into bed early this morning tired but content; feeling healthy and enjoying fresh memories of a wonderful week on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. The contrast to the return home a year ago was stark: on that trip, Tom had to help me up the stairs and into bed. Looking toward the fall and winter ahead, anticipating the joy of watching my grandson grow, I could not feel more content or more blessed.

Baby stealing

2009-09-24T08:17:00.002-04:00

I am back at my favorite luxury resort with a new favorite morning routine.

The place is my sister's home on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. The new way to start my day is to steal my grandson out of the bedroom where he is sleeping with my daughter. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement that gives me special time with the baby and lets his mom sleep a few more hours undisturbed.

This little guy is such a sweetheart! Right now he is sleeping contentedly next to me, sharing a sofa in the sun room as my sister and I enjoy our morning coffee with quiet conversation, noting today's sunny weather forecast.

A bottle is ready for whenever the baby starts stirring and sends signals that he is ready for another feeding. He has simple demands and is easily satisfied. In return, he gives so much joy with his increasingly more intent gazes and meaningful coos.

My morning gym routine at home is a good way to start the day, too, but it can't compare to baby stealing.

Looking up

2009-09-21T11:01:00.002-04:00

I will forever associate my Cancer 2.0 experience with the economy. As I was starting to deal with grim medical tests and treatments last fall and winter, the nation was gripped with fears and uncertain outlooks over the economy. My healing in recent months has been happily on track with a healthier financial prognosis. As my follow-up medical tests showed promise, so too, have signs of a strengthening economy.

Now I have seen the ultimate evidence that the recession is over, and I am hopeful that my upcoming PET scan next week will also point toward continuing recovery.

It was not the financial prognosticators who persuaded me the economy is brightening, although those experts have been espousing signs of hope. The unlikely clue was found in newspaper ads I was thumbing through. I had never seen this particular product before, but its appearance struck me as a sure sign of better times ahead. Why else would manufacturers bring such a frivolous product to market?

The harbinger of a strong economy on the horizon: motorized mascara!

The tiny wand of eyelash color had a motor at one end to vibrate the bristles, although I am not quite sure for what cosmetic benefit. How lazy would you have to be to need a motor in place of the tiny bit of wrist movement needed to brush the mascara wand just so?

The biggest benefit of this new device must be comic relief. The sheer joy of feeling cash-confident enough to throw a few dollars away on such silliness can't help but bring on a smile, if not an outright giggle. Looking good, indeed!

The best birthday

2009-09-17T06:49:00.002-04:00

I do not intend to spend the entire coming year in constant comparison to my year spent fighting Cancer 2.0, but yesterday's flashbacks were inevitable. The contrasts were too sharp; my 57th birthday was glorious, especially in comparison to birthday number 56.

Last year's birthday pointed toward a difficult and uncertain future. I had just learned the fast-growing lump in my abdomen was probably cancer, and my surgeon was calling for more tests rather than a quick excision. Tom and I had a quiet dinner at a nice restaurant but the evening was more fitful than festive. While awaiting doctors' findings, I had not shared news of my lump with family and friends, so my support system was not yet activated.

The love, prayers and good wishes that carried me through this past year all flowed back to me yesterday, reminding me that I did not go through my battle alone. Birthday wishes conveyed in e-mails, on posts to my Facebook page, through telephone calls and in hallways at work conveyed deeper meaning this year. I felt again the outpouring of human spirit that buoyed me up during low times of the previous 12 months.

To top off a great start to a new year, Tom and I went with my lifelong best friend and her husband to see the Cincinnati Reds finish a home series by sweeping the Astros. In a wonderful surprise, my friend had arranged a birthday greeting to me on the scoreboard at the end of the third inning. The 10,000-plus fans at the game who might have seen it had no idea how special a birthday it really was.

One year and counting

2009-09-06T21:29:00.002-04:00

Today is the anniversary of when I discovered my Cancer 2.0. What a year it has been.

I didn't know what I had found when I became aware of a new presence in my abdomen. Surprisingly, cancer was not the first thing on my mind. I had come that far since my breast cancer in 1996 that I no longer attributed every ache and pain to a cancer recurrence. Certainly in the first year after a cancer diagnosis and treatment, recurrence is never far from your mind. But not after 12 years.

The highs and lows of this past year have been the most extreme of my life. I sit here now in wonder that I feel as well as I do, remembering times when I wondered if there would be a first anniversary of my Cancer 2.0 discovery; it was that much scarier than the breast cancer.

Surviving the surgery and recovering so fully were highs in their own right, but neither compares with the euphoria of holding my first grandchild. I know this baby would have been amazing without the interruption of cancer, but he is even more because of the determination he gave me to get well so I could be his grandma.

I look forward to many, many anniversaries of this day. I intend to fill the days in between with gratitude for every milestone, and with God's help, to finding ways to be a blessing to others.

Cancer's impact

2009-08-30T08:21:00.004-04:00

Cancer doesn't define me, but it colors my life. That was my predominate thought a few days ago as I prepared for an interview with a writer for a local magazine.

The magazine is doing a story about local women executives who have had breast cancer, and I was thrilled when asked to be one of the subjects. As I tried to anticipate the interviewer's questions, I kept coming back to that bottom line: cancer is not who I am, but it is a big part of who I have become.

I have accomplished a lot and enjoyed many beautiful times since my first cancer diagnosis in 1996. I will never know for sure if having survived cancer was a propelling force that pushed me further than I would have traveled otherwise, but I suspect it has been a great motivator. I do know that I have a deeper appreciation for what is good and fulfilling than if I had not battled cancer; especially having been through this exercise twice!

It is true, I told the writer: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. In fact, I have felt much healthier in my post-cancer life than before. Good health has been more of a quest; I have worked harder to achieve wellness and to enjoy it than I ever did before my first cancer diagnosis.

It will be interesting in a few months to read about the other women in the article. I anticipate more similarities than differences in our stories. Cancer is the club no one asks to join, but once you're in, the bonds with others are strong.

Advancing nicely

2009-08-23T06:56:00.004-04:00

This past week was a wonderful milepost that, at times, I wasn't sure I would reach. It was the annual retreat of the OHA Board, and last year's retreat was one of the last big events I enjoyed before discovering my Cancer 2.0.

The retreat is a busy combination of meetings, golf and business socializing in a beautiful setting away from home. Last year I started the days with 6 a.m. workouts in the hotel gym with one of our Board members and kept going through late-night group dinners. Throughout my treatment of the past year, the retreat was a target I was working to reach. My goal was to not only get there but engage in all the activities I enjoyed before, especially the golf!

So, even though waking up at 5:30 to be in the gym by 6 a.m. was tough in the resort setting, it felt great to be following that same action-packed routine. The biggest difference I encountered was a surprise, but I view it as a positive sign of my healthier lifestyle today. After two days of late-night dining with richer food and heavier lunches, I felt awful. My body was accustomed to healthier, more nutritious eating and did not like the change. It was a good reminder that how we fuel our bodies is important.

Years ago OHA had a Board chair who objected to calling this annual event a "retreat" because he didn't like the idea of falling back. During his term, we called it the Advance. This year, the retreat certainly was an advance for me!

The mystery continues

2009-08-16T08:06:00.002-04:00

I love a great mystery, and none may be as intriguing as the one that has my doctors scratching their heads right now.

It is not a "whodunit" but a "what-is-it?" that is sending the physicians into new consultations with each other. The current conundrum deepened this week when I went in for what was supposed to be a CT-guided needle biopsy and the doctor assigned to that task raised doubts about the tiny little liver spot he was supposed to examine.

A follow-up MRI was performed Thursday, and the report I received Friday said the area they were examining -- identified as a "target-shaped lesion" -- was "only faintly visualized on the current study." It still doesn't mean there is nothing there, but this outcome is more positive than if they had been able to confirm a troublesome spot in the MRI.

I have been mentally sending my cancer-fighting cells to my liver several times a day with orders to seek out and destroy any cancer cells they find there. And I know lots of good prayers have been offered up for my health, including my sister's special pleas for "pick-axing angels" to attack any cancer cells that threaten to linger in my body.

Another test -- this time a PET scan -- will be done in a month to see if it turns up anything more definitive in my liver or elsewhere in my abdomen. By then, I figure all these prayers and positive visualizations for my health will have had time to wipe my liver clean! Here's hoping the mid-September PET scan will put a happy ending on this mystery.

Needless needle?

2009-08-12T05:18:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was supposed to be the day for a needle biopsy of a spot on my liver that was labeled suspicious in my latest CT scan. Instead, the doctor who was going to do the biopsy had doubts about whether the biopsy was needed and opted for more testing.

Tom and I wondered what was taking so long for the CT-guided needle biopsy after we arrived at the hospital and I was prepped for the procedure. When things finally got underway, I was taken for an ultrasound instead of a CT scan. The technician explained the doctor wanted to see if the spot was visible in the ultrasound, which might be used to guide his needle instead of the scanner. A short while later, she ushered in the doctor and they noted the spot was not showing up on the ultrasound.

That didn't mean definitively that the spot was no longer there, the doctor explained, but it opened up the possibility that whatever had been detected on the earlier scan might not be a problem. The doctor explained that the spot was very close to my heart, so it would be tricky to biopsy and must be done very carefully. He wanted to be sure a biopsy is really needed before poking around in that area.

Next up will be an MRI to take a better look. Then if a biopsy is still needed, it will likely be done with the doctor inserting a tiny camera to look at the area.

Yesterday's outcome was not full vindication for the suspicious spot, but it felt like prayers for a good outcome have been heard.

Good medicine

2009-08-10T06:39:00.003-04:00

I think I have discovered a new treatment for high blood pressure -- holding your grandchild.

High blood pressure has never been one of my problems, but if it were, the contentment that flows from cuddling a grandbaby would surely drop the readings to optimum levels. It is a feeling like no other -- relaxation, wonder, love and appreciation all rolled into euphoric bliss.

Tom and I were fortunate to get our Dodge fix three out of the last four days. We're trying to see him as much as we can before his paternal grandfather and step-grandmother arrive for a visit this weekend, when we'll have to fade back for a while and let them get their fill of him.

Holding your grandchild must be good medicine for anything that ails you. I know snuggling this little grandson of mine makes me feel amazingly well and determined to stay that way.

Suspicious

2009-08-01T06:58:00.002-04:00

Why is it that the word "suspicious" is almost always used in a foreboding sense? We even call bad guys "suspects" before it is proven they have done anything wrong. Is it because we tend to expect the bad instead of the good?

I am keeping a positive outlook on my continuing recovery from Cancer 2.0, but that word -- suspicious -- was the lone raincloud in an otherwise sunny report yesterday from my latest CT scan on Thursday. There is a suspicious new spot on my liver that will get a closer look in a few days with a CT-guided needle biopsy.

On the upside, the doctors had been watching a small shadow on one lung that showed up in my previous CT scan in May. It was not even enough to be labeled suspicious then and there was no sign of it in this latest report, so that was good news.

For now, I am concentrating on suspecting another good outcome when they look closer at my liver. Mentally, I am rounding up the cancer-fighting cells in my body and dispatching them to my liver to seek out and kill any suspects they may find there; it is take-no-prisoners time.

Happy Monday!

2009-07-27T06:44:00.003-04:00

Monday is one of my most dreaded days, and one of my favorite days, all rolled into one.

The dread is for the same reasons many of us are not fond of Monday. It is the return to work; an abrupt halt to the weekend's pleasurable pursuits; going from what I want to do to what I have to do. And most Mondays mean lots of time spent in meetings that usually don't feel very productive. Meetings to organize the work week; meetings to catch up with on-going projects; meetings for the sake of meeting it seems.

Then, coming just when I need a break, is my Monday evening golf league! It is a sweet reward for having endured the merry-go-round of Monday meeting mania. Leaving the office a tad earlier than usual -- in contrast to all the days I am there past quitting time -- I break free and am suddenly outside in the sunshine, with green grass and fresh air all around.

The pleasure I get from golf is highly disproportionate to the skill I display. I should be much better for how much I love it. You can't be very good at golf when you usually play only nine holes a week, with an occasional spurt of a couple of full rounds a week on vacation or during a work retreat at a golf resort. Even so, my game was helped by our June vacation to Mississippi. My son and sister fixed my grip -- making it more of a golf swing than a remnant of my years growing up with a baseball bat in my hands.

My guide for a decent round over the years has been to shoot my age for nine holes. It was a decent target before I turned 50 but now isn't much to brag about. Last week I shot just under my age! I can't turn back the clock, but maybe I can continue taking strokes off my game.

Lots to smile about

2009-07-25T07:15:00.003-04:00

The week ahead will be special.

Ben will be home for a few days to attend my niece's wedding next Saturday. I have the great honor of doing a reading at the wedding. Our grandson's paternal grandmother will be visiting from Texas.

Last, and I hope not the very least of all, I will have my next round of CT scans. If there are no signs of cancer recurrence when I see the doctor on Friday, he will extend the CT scans from two-month intervals to three months apart.

I have no reason to expect anything but a positive outcome. I feel as healthy and almost as strong as I did a year ago. Getting back to the gym a couple mornings a week these past two weeks has been a nice high point of my recovery. But for my short curls and the scar up my tummy, there are few reminders of my cancer ordeal in my daily routines now.

It will be wonderful to gather next Saturday to celebrate Lauren's wedding and welcome Ryan to our family. I will proudly carry my grandma's book of photos of baby Dodge, and I will wear the smile of a thankful cancer survivor.

Perfect!

2009-07-21T08:41:00.002-04:00

I can't count the number of times in the last few days that I have stopped to marvel at the miracle that is my grandson.

For starters, he is just beautiful! I know every grandparent says that, and now I understand why. It is true you can't appreciate how wonderful it is to have a grandchild until you do.

The contentment I feel at this moment is almost overwhelming. I have taken another day off work to try to be a good grandma. Baby Dodge is sleeping a few feet away in his Pack 'n Play, Mandy and Andy are getting some much-needed sleep upstairs and even their dog in sleeping quietly in his bed next to my chair. What peacefulness and joy!

My son commented a few days ago about all that has transpired since we first learned Mandy and Andy were expecting this wonderful blessing. Ben has graduated from OSU and moved into a new phase in his life, with good signs of promise for his future. I had successful surgery and have recovered well, with no signs of recurring cancer. We will soon celebrate my neice's wedding.

The nice thing about the tough times in our lives is how sweet they make the good times. I feel very blessed by all the experiences I have had.

Oh baby!

2009-07-17T17:58:00.004-04:00

"Let the spoiling begin!"

Tom and I hadn't even met our new grandson this morning when the brand-new grandpa uttered those words. The doctor had just popped into the maternity ward waiting room to tell us our grandson had been born, and the baby and our daughter were doing fine.

We shared some joyful tears and hugs and then couldn't wipe the silly smiles off our faces while we waited to go greet the little guy. I still can't stop smiling!

His name is Dodge, and he wears it well. He weighs 8 pounds and an ounce, and stretches out 21 1/2 inches long. His skin is a beautiful pink and he has a nice cap of dark hair. Could he be any more beautiful or perfect? I don't think so.

My mind keeps wandering ahead today, picturing the many firsts we look forward to experiencing with this amazing new person in our lives. The perspective of being a grandparent is fantastic -- we have an idea of what Mandy and Andy can look forward to and the experience to know they'll get through even the tough times just fine.

One of their biggest challenges will be to keep us from spoiling the kid rotten!

Gym dandy

2009-07-15T05:30:00.002-04:00

It is strange to wake up with sore arm pits, and to smile about it, but that is my situation this morning. The soreness is pleasant because it is a souvenir of my overdue return to the gym.

The tiny ache at the corners of my chest remind me of the bench presses I did yesterday morning. The weights I used were half what I had hoisted easily before my battle with Cancer 2.0 -- just five pounds on each end of the heavy bar. And the repetitions I did were far fewer. But at least I was back!

My gym buddy from work had also gotten out of the morning exercise habit during my hiatus as she dealt with an injury that also sidelined her for a while. Now she has recommitted with me to renew our workouts. As with any challenge, tackling this with a partner makes it a little easier to accomplish. We made it to the gym one day last week, committed to three days this week and should soon be back to our five-day practice.

I am returning to the gym with extra resolve. In the Anti-Cancer book that I have become such a fan of this summer, regular exercise is noted as a key health strategy. Lifting weights is lifting me up as well!

High expectations

2009-07-13T06:23:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was the date Mandy had calculated as her due date, and her baby stayed stubbornly in her womb. Tomorrow is the doctor's estimated delivery date, but it is not likely the baby will come then, either. At her weekly appointment on Friday, the doctor told Mandy there had been no progress toward delivery since the week before.

I know this is not an easy time for Mandy but I am absolutely blissful. It is not only the excitement of expecting my first grandchild. My high spirits are also due to my amazingly strong state of health.

It wasn't so long ago that I wondered if I would be well enough to even hold my grandchild at this point. There were times I contemplated being in the hospital concurrently with Mandy -- me receiving follow-up chemotherapy while she delivered her baby.

The vigor I feel now is incredible. The healing I have experienced is a miracle; running a close second to the miracle of birth. The circumstances of this past year make me all the more determined to carefully nurture this wonderful machine that is my body -- not just for me but also so I can fulfill my duties as a grandma!

Wash day revelations

2009-07-11T11:54:00.002-04:00

I was about to start washing a load of clothes this morning when something on the agitator in the center of the washing machine caught my eye. I looked closer at the brownish mark and realized I needed to wash out my washing machine.

Residue had built up inside the fabric softener dispenser and turned into an unsightly gunk that was keeping the dispenser from draining completely. I fiddled with the dispenser until I was finally able to pull it apart. Peering down, I was horrified to find a thin layer of smelly water at the bottom. Triple yuck! How in the world could we expect to clean clothes in a stinky washer?

As I scrubbed the dispenser and the rest of the washing machine, it struck me there was a larger lesson here. It was more than just the old adage -- take good care of your tools and they will take care of you. Something bigger was beckoning.

I think it was this: What residue builds up in our lives when we go about our routines without taking them apart every now and then for closer inspection? Where do we let little things accumulate unnoticed until they turn stagnant?

Those seem to be good questions to ask on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

Flying dog hair

2009-07-08T05:36:00.004-04:00

When Mandy was about to be born nearly 30 years ago, my mother was hovering anxiously, offering all kinds of help to get ready for the baby. I was pretty calm, especially in contrast to her nervous energy, and I declined her offer to give my house a good cleaning. I tried to assure her that we were ready for the birth, but her exasperation came out as she blurted, "You can't bring a new baby home to a house with all that flying dog hair!"

Mom's endearing comment has come back to me many times over the years and especially as I try to keep from uttering a similar declaration.

I understand now better than ever what was at the heart of her warning. It had nothing to do with dog hair and everything to do with the difference in our experiences. She spoke from the perspective of having raised five children and knowing all the challenges and rewards I faced. My view was naively confident, knowing nothing about parenthood but believing I was prepared for whatever it entailed.

I am trying not to hover too much in these last few days before my daughter delivers her son, nor is there any need. Mandy and Andy have done a wonderful job preparing their house, and their hearts, to welcome a baby.

But if I slip up and make an anxious-grandma proclamation of my own, I think they will understand. In our family, "flying dog hair" has become legend as just another way to say, "I love you."

Freedom

2009-07-04T08:14:00.002-04:00

What are you celebrating on this Independence Day? For me, freedom is another way to view my many blessings against the backdrop of this past year.

Last year's 4th of July was not especially remarkable, I hate to admit. I'm sure there was some sort of celebration and family get-together, but I had lost that edge of being thankful and appreciative for the big as well as the little things, that edge that being a cancer survivor gives you.

My view of freedom today is sharper. The freedoms I am celebrating include not only our amazing civil liberties but also the freedom to seek and find great medical care, the freedom to travel for second opinions, even the freedom to share my cancer experience in this blog.

Looking ahead, I anticipate celebrating many more freedoms in the coming year. At the top of the list will be freedom to spoil a new grandchild silly, freedom to pursue my health with new vigor and freedom to live my life with new fullness and purpose.

Living in appreciation of our blessings may be the best way to celebrate freedom every day.

Call me Curly

2009-07-01T06:34:00.002-04:00

There's something liberating about going away for a few days and coming back with a new look. In my case, it is my newly regrown short, curly hair. Just as winter was a good time to have wigs warming my scalp left bare by chemo, summer is a great time to sport my still-short regrowth.

I tested the look in the safety of family and strangers while visiting my son, sister and brother-in-law last week. It still needed some work when I returned home. My daughter and another sister encouraged me to try some hair paste to give it a bit more body.

In church on Sunday -- a place where I always receive encouragement -- several people commented favorably on the new do, giving me the confidence to go wigless to work the past two days. More compliments greeted me at the office.

The big test was last night when I gathered with dear friends from high school for a girls' night out. Their smiles and hugs were all the more approval I needed to put my wigs back on the closet shelf.

I have enjoyed my wigs for the past eight months but it's nice to have my own hair back again. The short curls may not be my most-desired look, but they are another nice reminder of the good direction my life is headed.

Digging deeper

2009-06-29T06:22:00.002-04:00

I'm heading back to work this morning with a determination not to let it become a return to routine. I want to hold onto an important lesson from my week off: I can control how I experience my life, and it is important to live every day with gusto.

The profound book I read while on vacation, Anti-cancer, A New Way of Life, is a wonderful blueprint for living every day with purpose. Author David Servan-Schreiber is both a physician and a two-time cancer survivor who has pulled together and translated a wealth of research for living healthier for all of us, not just cancer patients. He looks at our environment, the food we eat, the benefits of physical activity and how we see our world.

He describes how an experience with cancer can put a new filter on your vision. If we're lucky, we use that filter to see the colors of our lives more deeply and to take greater joy in simple pleasures; we live more fully in the present.

There are many ways to cultivate a positive outlook. One of the best reasons for staying positive every day is that it is an important ingredient in building and maintaining an anti-cancer life.

I'm back!

2009-06-27T08:54:00.002-04:00

With apologies to regular readers of this blog for my recent absence, I am happy to report I am back in full force and on many levels. My vacation of this past week restored me in many ways.

The respite from work was more needed than I realized. Things had been nonstop since my first day back from surgery, and they still hadn't slowed when I skipped town. I felt bad for leaving some projects, but an occasional check of my e-mail assured me work was progressing without me. I was finally able to unplug enough to relax.

Being able to spend time with my son and to see how he has acclimated to living and working on the Gulf Coast with my sister and her husband was especially uplifting. Tom remarked several times at how Ben has matured in his new environment. We celebrated his 25th birthday, knowing his future is bright.

This vacation also allowed me to fill in the last piece that had been missing from my physical recovery -- exercise! Joy and I started walking and jogging in the mornings, and yesterday I returned to the gym for the first time since Cancer 2.0 interfered last September. It was great to be back!

Going forward, I have new guidance for good health in an amazing book a friend gave me. Anti-Cancer, A New Way of Life, is written by a physician who has gone through two bouts with brain cancer. I was afraid to pick it up as bedtime reading. I needed to sit by the pool in the sun before I was mentally ready to open this book. I haven't quite finished it, but I have read enough to commit to changing my diet and my thinking for the better. This is one of those books I will encourage everyone I know to read for their own good health.

With good rest, good times with family, and good counsel for good health, I am ready to move forward and celebrate my many blessings.

Unplug me!

2009-06-19T11:13:00.003-04:00

What's wrong with this picture? I am at my sister's beautiful home on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, visiting with her, my brother-in-law and our son, and I continue to check e-mail and participate in conference calls for work.

I am having trouble unplugging from the office and embracing vacation, and I fear it will continue at least through today. Thank goodness it is Friday and those back in Columbus will have the sense to at least take the weekend off.

Maybe someone should pry my fingers off my cell phone and drag me out to the pool, where the sun can relax my tense brain and coax me into vacation mode. Hearing the pleasant water sounds might force me to turn off the voices that keep asking if I need to call the office. They know how to get in touch with me if I am desperately needed, which I won't be; they are all plenty capable on their own.

I need to remind myself that R&R is as much mental as physical; that I need to take time to re-energize not only my body but also my mind and soul. And you can't do that with a Blackberry in hand.

Before and after

2009-06-14T07:55:00.002-04:00

One of the absolute truths about cancer is the demarcation it creates in your life.

The list of life-altering events by which most of us track our days is small. Graduation from high school or college, marriage, jobs, home purchases are among the things that cause us to think in "before and after" terms, some to greater degree than others.

For me, a cancer diagnosis is at the top of the list. Once it occurs, everything that follows is touched by it in some way, and even events that preceded the diagnosis are viewed differently in hindsight.

The weird thing, though, is that the changes wrought by cancer are not all bad. I have written before about the filter cancer has put on my perspective, helping me to see more clearly what is important and precious in my life. As my health and routines return to normal, I am able to see great wonder and beauty in what I might previously have taken for granted.

As I consider this unexpected blessing, my prayer is to live in a way that helps those I encounter see through the cancer filter without having to endure cancer themselves. How should I treat others, how can I best use my time and talents, if the preciousness of my life remains in clearer focus? It's a question I never want to forget to keep asking myself.

Re-adjusting the scales

2009-06-12T05:37:00.004-04:00

It's a sure sign of how crazy busy I've been when I realize the end of the week is here and I haven't updated this blog since Sunday. Too many early-morning meetings have crowded into my schedule, following too many long days in the office with too many to-dos not yet crossed off the list.

Pressure is building at work as we continue to fight political battles in the state budget process and prepare for three days of our annual meeting next week. There have been moments I even feared work obligations will prevent me from getting on a plane with Tom the morning after the annual meeting ends to spend a long-awaited vacation week in Biloxi.

But this vacation is too important to delay. We'll celebrate Ben's birthday and have a chance to see for ourselves how well he has acclimated to living and working on the Gulf Coast. I will also celebrate time off work not necessitated by medical issues -- something that hasn't happened since last fall.

There were moments during my six weeks' recuperation from surgery that I questioned whether I was really needed at the office; things seemed to be getting done fine without me. Once I was back, it didn't take long for me to work myself into believing my role is indispensable. That, more than anything, is reason to take vacation time away next week. It's time for a work-life balance reality check!

Grandmahood

2009-06-07T08:18:00.002-04:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the little baby boy who will soon be entering our lives. His expected arrival is barely a month away!

All kinds of activity has been stirred up in anticipation. I will attend a second shower for Mandy this afternoon; this one with some of her former coworkers. Andy and Mandy have been decorating not only the baby's room but also other areas of their home in preparation for the many guests who will want to come see the baby. Friends and family are offering advice on potential names.

Amidst all of this, I have had two predominant thoughts:
1. Mandy and Andy will make great parents!
2. Do I remember enough about babies to uphold my duties as a grandma?

That second thought is a bit scary. It never occurred to me when I was a new mother that my mom and Tom's mom would not have the answers I needed, whatever my questions might be about how to care for baby Mandy. They were grandmas, after all. They would just know!

I approach my own grandmahood wondering how I will tap into the knowledge base all grandmas are expected to possess. I am banking, once again, on the advice my own mother offered when I shared my concern with her. Just love him. The rest will come naturally, was her answer.

If loving this little baby is the key, the rest should be easy!

Hugs

2009-06-05T06:46:00.002-04:00

I have always been somewhat reserved when it comes to showing affection, but that has changed. My hug trigger has been reset to a new low threshold.

I attribute my new quickness to embrace to the medical battle I have fought since last fall. There is something about the physical connection of a hug that seems so life-affirming to me now. It says without words, "I'm here. You're here. We're both still alive and kicking."

In recent months I have found myself hugging people in church, colleagues at work, friends I run into on the street without hesitation, and then thinking afterward how nice it was, and how unlike me it was. Suddenly I am initiating the contact, and it feels so right.

Every now and then -- especially with family members who have never known me to be overly affectionate -- I fall back into my reserved ways. It's funny how not hugging now makes me feel more awkward than going with my new tendency.

I can't make up for all the potential hugs I shied away from in the past, but there will be a lot fewer missed opportunities going forward. Especially in these times of fist bumps and over-emphasis on protecting ourselves from stray germs, we can all use a few more good hugs.

Even better!

2009-06-02T06:15:00.002-04:00

There is a blood test that the surgeon who treated my breast cancer years ago calls a tumor marker. I have learned from her that the test is non-specific, but it can be an indicator of something that needs a closer look.

When Cancer 2.0 appeared last fall, the results of that test -- officially known as CA 125 -- had spiked from the level of 5 or 6 that it typically followed in the years after my breast cancer to as much as 48. It had drifted back down to 8 while I underwent chemo late last year, and that was the last report I had received.

It was with some hesitation that I asked my OSU oncologist on Friday if CA 125 was one of the tests he had requested for me. It wasn't, but he offered to order it immediately. Having just received the great news that my latest CT scans were negative, I didn't want to push my luck. But I also didn't want to harbor any lingering doubts, so I consented to the test and headed off to have more blood drawn.

The game of golf has taught me that low numbers are good. I was able to take a few strokes off my latest score in last night's golf league, but that outcome wasn't nearly as sweet as the result we got yesterday from the CA 125 test -- it was a 5!

I win!

2009-05-30T06:39:00.002-04:00

The news yesterday was just wanted I wanted to hear: My latest CT scans are clear. No tumors were seen lurking between or within the organs in my abdomen.

Did you hear the big sigh of relief?

Tom met me at the OSU physician's office to receive the test results with me. He puts on a good show of always expecting a positive outcome, but anticipation of the test results had robbed him of some sleep the night before, too.

The good news put the perfect glow on a beautiful spring evening. We sat on the deck and relaxed as you can only when you get this kind of report. I called Mandy to come join us for a celebratory pizza, knowing Andy was working and she would be home alone, waiting to hear my results. My sister in Mississippi phoned on her way home from work, also anxious to know what I had learned.

The evening was a great reminder that I do not keep watch against a return of my cancer alone. Those who love me are holding vigil alongside me. This is not an individual competition but a team sport. That is the best news of all.

The only game that matters

2009-05-29T06:39:00.004-04:00

I have a ridiculously strong competitive streak.

It's so bad I like to count the number of cars I pass when I manage to choose the moving traffic lane next to one that has slowed to a stop. I win! Using super double coupons at the grocery store or finding clothes on sale and then applying a discount coupon to save even more gives me the same delight. I win!

Today I am hoping for one of the biggest wins of all -- to get good results from the CT scan I had yesterday morning.

I am in a fragile place right now where every twitch or muscle spasm could be a tumor. My fingers probe my abdomen looking for lumps. Any weight gain is suspect, and I have trouble distinguishing between what might be scar tissue and what could be something scarier. I know from experience it is natural to be hyper-vigilant right now and to expect the worst.

My competitive nature wants to win every round of my cancer fight. The best outcome for today would be to hear there is no rematch on the horizon. But if there is, I'll come out swinging.

And many more

2009-05-27T06:30:00.002-04:00

I don't know where the last three years have gone, or how they passed so quickly, but this morning I keep drifting back to May 27, 2006 -- my daughter's wedding day.

It was an amazing day for two amazing people. Mandy and our son-in-law, Andy, are a wonderful couple brought together by a deep and abiding love. I could not be prouder of the individuals they are and the choice they made to take each other as their life's partner.

I look back over these three years and am reminded of the wedding vows they took. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and support one another no matter what.

With a baby boy on the way, their own good health, a nice home and a beautiful piece of land invested for their future, their blessings are many. They also have their share of challenges with Mandy's recent layoff from the newspaper and now a threat that Andy could be laid off if voters reject a city income tax increase.

Their vision into the future may not be as clear as mine. From the perspective of 35 years of marriage, I see confidently that they will get through this current turbulence. I rejoice at the richness they will soon experience with adding a child to their family. I give thanks that they live close by so that Tom and I can enjoy their company often.

Happy Anniversary, Mandy and Andy!

Memorials worth celebrating

2009-05-25T08:05:00.003-04:00

I love it when the gift of a day like today -- set aside to celebrate and remember those who fought for our freedom -- arrives exactly when I need it most.

Work has been unbelievably busy, and it will continue at hyper-speed at least through our annual meeting in mid-June. Weekends have provided no real respite, with fun-but-tiring family events on the calendar the past two weeks. If today had been another work day, I would have been dragging myself through it.

Instead, I am delighting in the promise of a free day with no obligations other than those I choose to make on myself. The possibilities include putting some touch-up paint on my garden gnomes and cleaning up the edges of my flower beds to ready them for mulch. The day is all the sweeter because of those dark nights this past winter when I sometimes laid awake and wondered if I would be up to gardening this spring.

My celebration today is for many freedoms. I am thankful for those who have fought our country's wars, and I am thankful for my own victories over cancer.

Well enough

2009-05-20T06:10:00.003-04:00

I can be stubbornly protective of how I choose to use my time, so it's not a surprise that I did not welcome pleas from my husband and my mother this week to slow down a bit. Their concerns were similar: should I be engaging in so many evening activities after spending long days at work?

Last week I had something going on every night but Friday. This week has evening events three nights, plus an out-of-town obligation that will require me to hit the road by 5 a.m. one morning. I don't go looking for all these things to do; they just seem to find me, I told Tom. He and my mom would prefer me to hide better, or say "no" more often to some invitations.

There was an undertone in both their pleas that I didn't want to hear. They may not have intended the message behind the message, but it unnerved me a bit just the same. The unspoken sentiment was that I am still fragile; that my cancer could return if I don't take better care of myself.

Yes, my cancer could return, but I am not persuaded I can prevent a recurrence by shutting myself away or refusing to extend myself in ways that could lead to personal or professional growth.

Call me stubborn, but as long as I am feeling so good, I don't mind being a bit used up when I fall into bed. I sleep better after a busy day, which goes a long way toward taking good care of myself. But I promise, Tom and Mom, that I won't go looking for more to do.

In the pink

2009-05-18T06:30:00.002-04:00

There were more than 45,000 participants in Saturday's Race for the Cure, but I don't know how many of us were wearing the pink shirts of survivors. Whatever the number, there were so many others it was both a comfort to have company and a sad commentary on the need for a cure.

Out of the throng, there was suddenly the face of a friend joining me in the survivors' lane at the finish line. As we made our way forward to collect our pink roses and survivors' medallions on pink ribbons, well-meaning strangers applauded and cheered.

One person called out, "Congratulations," and my friend smiled ruefully. None of us wanted to be wearing pink shirts in the first place. We would have preferred to cross the finish line with the thousands of anonymous supporters of the cause. But if we had to meet cancer head on in the first place, it was better to be in the ranks of survivors.

It reminded me of an observation offered by another friend recently in my golf league. As she commiserated with me over my double dose of cancer, she commented, "You are very unlucky and very lucky all at the same time."

The lucky part is not just having survived. Part of the good fortune is in how my life has been enriched by the filter that comes with facing a serious challenge. Cancer puts life's meaning in sharper focus and deepens the colors of what is important. Pink is not a bad color to be.

Forward!

2009-05-14T06:24:00.002-04:00

A wonderful surprise arrived in the mail at work yesterday and put a smile on my face the rest of the day. It came from a former colleague with whom I have reconnected as both of us have battled cancer in recent months.

The unexpected gift was a beautiful beaded bracelet with little green frogs on two of the beads. It was the frogs that caused me first to gasp in delight and then to grin whenever I looked down at my wrist throughout the day. When I called to say thanks, I learned my friend's wife makes the frog bracelets to encourage cancer patients.

Why frogs? My friend had told me earlier that the cancer clinic where he receives his treatment in another state has a frog as its mascot. Also a former journalist, of course he had to ask what frogs had to do with cancer treatment.

The answer is inspiring: Frogs can't jump backwards; they only go forward. And so, too, must those of us who fight cancer.

New normal

2009-05-13T07:11:00.003-04:00

It's a sure sign that things have returned to normal when you pass a milestone without even realizing it. Yesterday marked three-months since my surgery, and the significance didn't even occur to me until this morning.

That's not to say that I went through the entire day without ever thinking about cancer or what I've been through. It is more a reflection of how my awareness of cancer and its constant presence in the background have become part of my life. I no longer regard the scar that divides my abdomen as some alien intruder. It is part of who I am and will be going forward.

I can see beauty now as the scar reminds me of the miracle of healing. I know I am stronger and more grateful for the everyday blessings of life because of the threats I had to face.

I hope my husband will excuse me for this analogy, but I can't help thinking that it is kind of like when you have been married for a while and one day you realize your identity has become meshed with that of your spouse. You no longer mark every milestone in awe; it's just who you are, and that's a good thing.

Sweet scents

2009-05-11T07:04:00.002-04:00

It seems so right that lilacs come into bloom right around Mother's Day.

One of the last things I did yesterday in preparation for a family cookout was to clip a bunch of the fragrant blossoms from bushes at the corner of our garage to arrange in vases inside. It was enough to pleasantly perfume the air without being overwhelming.

Lilac is one of those timeless fragrances that suggests for me how a mother's love should smell. Sweet and sure, but not overpowering. You just want to fill your lungs with it and hold onto its comforting aroma.

Last night's dinner of grilled burgers and roasted corn on the cob had their own tantalizing aromas, but this morning it is especially nice to have the lilacs lingering in the air. They greet me like a good-morning hug for my nose.

Mothers

2009-05-10T06:30:00.002-04:00

I woke up this morning with mothers on my mind -- not just my own but mothers in general. How interesting, I thought, that we have an image of God as father, but what could be more godly than mothers?

With my daughter expecting our first grandchild, the miracle of birth is not far from my mind these days. How God-like for women to bear the overwhelming responsibility of conceiving a child and nurturing a baby in the womb for nine months -- and to do it joyfully! And we're not even talking yet about the labor and delivery.

At the other end of life, there are mothers like mine who continue to nurture and love and teach their children for decades upon decades. The unconditional love that our Christian values ascribe to God the Father most of us learn first from our mothers. If we're lucky, we see it in their eyes and hear it in their voice from the first moment that they hold us to their breast.

And then there are those women, like my middle sister and sister-in-law, who have not given birth but still love with a mother's heart.

Today I am thankful for the many blessings of being a mother, for having a wonderful mother, and for knowing so many women who show us every day the beauty and wonder of a mother's love.

Big really is big

2009-05-08T18:56:00.003-04:00

I went to lunch this week with some fashion-savvy young women from my office. Even though we work closely together every day, I usually learn something in these outings.

One of the tidbits gleaned from this get-together was that the cute little purse I have been carrying proudly the past several months is so not cool. No one said anything, and we certainly didn't discuss the relative merits of handbag sizes, but the message came through all the same.

Big is better. The sizable bags they were each carrying made strong statements as we walked several blocks to the restaurant. My baby-sized purse suddenly seemed inadequate as it tried to hide under my armpit.

I have resolved to change purses this weekend. I'll reserve the tiny black bag for the purpose I had originally intended -- evenings out when I don't need to carry much. Good thing my summer purse has some size to it.

Fore!

2009-05-05T07:56:00.003-04:00

Last night was the start of my golf league, and it was fantastic to be out on the course with my friends.

I hadn't golfed since September, so my return to the game was significant on many levels. September marked the beginning of my battle with Cancer 2.0 and a huge departure from what had been my normal routines.

As I headed to the golf course, I contemplated the path I had traveled since the league ended last year. Instead of counting strokes, I have been counting doctor visits, medical tests and weeks of recovery from surgery. I'm sure I had a foolish grin on my face as I headed to the ladies' locker room to change, and I kept smiling as I emerged in my golf clothes with my wig tucked safely away in the bag with my work attire.

The friends who welcomed me out on the course didn't mind that my hair was just sprouting; their hugs told me they were as happy to see me as I was to see them.

As I took my first swings, a twinge across my abdomen was the only reminder of the tough course I had played over the last eight months. By the time we finished the ninth hole, even that twinge was gone.

My score wasn't great, but it was right on track with where I was playing at the beginning of the season last year, and that's not a bad place to be.

Lows and highs

2009-05-04T06:55:00.002-04:00

I love it when low expectations meet with high outcomes.

A psychologist who spoke to a staff retreat for me and my coworkers several years back advised keeping your standards high but your expectations low as a recipe for reducing frustrations. I had low expectations for this weekend. Rain was expected both days and I had no big plans in the works. What we got, though, was pleasant, dry weather and a nice departure from the usual weekend chores.

A peek in the laundry hamper early Saturday morning persuaded us that we didn't need to start the washer and dryer just yet. With Ben out of the house, the laundry loads are smaller and take longer to accumulate. On a whim, Tom and I headed south to a casino just across the state line for the afternoon. We didn't win any money but it was a fun diversion for the day.

Yesterday's agenda began with me and my mom leaving church to pick up some flowers we had ordered from my nephew's band fundraiser in Beavercreek, near Dayton. My sister, nephew and niece met us at the outlet mall to make the exchange after lunching together. Mom and I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping and didn't have to dodge a single raindrop.

There is a fine line between expecting the worst and keeping expectations low so that better-than-expected outcomes are even sweeter. The optimist in me defaults to always seeing the positive, so lowering my expectations is a matter of repressing my outlook a bit. I'd rather be in that mode than be a pessimist who sees rain clouds on the horizon when skies are blue.

Keeping a close eye

2009-05-02T09:40:00.002-04:00

I finally got my long-awaited second opinion last night from Houston and it has made me a little giddy. No chemo, no radiation is recommended for the time being, just close surveilance and monitoring!

I had so resigned myself to the notion of inpatient chemotherapy that the doctor's recommendation feels like a wonderful reprieve after a long wait for a jury's deliberations to finally reach a conclusion.

The doctor said the opinion of himself and his peers is that chemotherapy at this point would have little benefit. Instead, CT scans should be repeated by the end of May and then again at three-month intervals. Should a cancer return be detected, chemotherapy and surgery would then be in order.

As good as I have been feeling, I can't imagine that this next scan will produce any cause for concern. It is extremely liberating to think that I can plan for the next few months without having to work around bouts of inpatient chemo and whatever ill effects it would cause in-between the hospital sessions.

With no active treatment on the immediate horizon, I welcome all good prayers and best wishes to keep cancer from returning. And when it comes down to it, that may be the very best treatment of all!

Sick bay

2009-05-02T09:29:00.002-04:00

I'm feeling good but my home computer is sick. I have not been able to do my usual morning posts since Monday because a virus wouldn't let me access the Internet from our home PC, and once I get to the office, the opportunity for a little personal blogging flies out the window.

I could have brought my laptop home during the week, but the eternal optimist in me kept thinking a little more time at night was all I needed to try to get the home computer working again. The virus that had attacked the computer had other ideas.

Even the purchase and installation of new anti-virus software didn't do the trick. Now the virus that was sending us pop-up messages and interfering with our Internet access appears to be gone. But the newly installed protection against getting more viruses is working so good that it not only blocks new viruses, it blocks us from getting on the Internet at all.

Maybe I can get a live "help desk" person on the phone today to figure out what computer cure we need. Until then, thank goodness for my laptop!

So vain

2009-04-27T07:01:00.002-04:00

I may have reached a new height (or low?) of vanity yesterday. For the first time in my life, I colored my own hair.

Mind you, this is newly regrown hair that is only about a quarter of an inch long in most places. And most people I encounter don't even see it because I keep it hidden under a wig when I am out in public. But it was more gray than I cared to see when I passed a mirror while puttering around the house, and I was concerned that a stray gray might pop out around the edges of my wig.

The coloring supplies were already at hand. My niece and former colorist made sure I was stocked up last year on a visit from her new home in South Carolina, back when I still had plenty of hair to color. Her mother (my sister) had taken over the hair-coloring duty for several of us in the family, but my supplies sat unneeded on a closet shelf since I began chemo in October.

Making yesterday's exercise even sillier is the expectation that I will begin a new course of chemo in the next few weeks. The follow-up treatment has not been decided yet, but that is the direction it has been pointing. In that case, the gray I hid yesterday likely wouldn't stay around long enough to grow long enough to be seen in public.

No matter. I still see myself in the mirror often enough to wince at too much gray hair. Now I smile back at myself, partly because I like the new youthful image and partly because I know how silly I am to color hair that so few people will see.

Wig comb-over

2009-04-25T11:43:00.003-04:00

One of the great things about wearing wigs is you don't have to do much with them. Every now and then they get a quick bath in special wig shampoo, a rinse, a good shake and then they air dry on their pedestals after I comb out a few tangles.

Probably because they are so low maintenance, I couldn't resist a little tinkering this morning.

What started out as my new "special occasion" wig back in January has become my everyday wig, while the wig I resurrected from Cancer 1.0 has been largely ignored. Wig #1 isn't a bad wig; it's the one I'm wearing in the photo I finally posted to this blog. I have been shunning it, I admitted as I combed it out, because it seems so much flatter on top than my shorter, sassier wig #2.

What if I gave it a bit more lift by combing part of the crown in a different direction? It seems to have helped, which is especially funny because I typically hate to style hair and have never been very good at it.

There is another hair dilemma I have yet to resolve but may need to figure out soon: Will it be better to golf wigless?

Too close for comfort

2009-04-24T06:55:00.002-04:00

My willpower is a function of proximity. That was underscored yesterday as I saw the volume in the bag of trail mix on my desk shrink considerably over the course of a few hours.

I have learned over the past couple of years that it helps to have a mid-morning and mid-afternoon snack to keep from overeating at lunch and dinner. The strategy of eating smaller amounts at more frequent intervals has helped keep off the weight that I fought to lose before my daughter's wedding almost three years ago.

Usually my snacks are a protein or granola bar and a piece of fruit. Earlier this week I reasoned it would be easier to have the trail mix handy and not have to remember each morning to grab that day's snacks on my way out the door to work. Bad idea.

A serving of the trail mix is one-quarter cup. At that rate, it should have lasted a couple of weeks, but yesterday afternoon it was almost gone. My hand kept diving into the bag as I worked, reaching my mouth before I had a chance to think about it.

Some of my coworkers regularly keep candy and huge snack jars on their desks and never gain a pound. I can usually walk right by free muffins and chocolates at the coffee station, but put something tasty at arm's length on my desk and all my resolve disappears. As with anything else, a key to success is knowing what triggers your downfall.