The Audience

I am home after a whirlwind trip to Las Vegas .  I was in Vegas less than 48 hours.  It may have been short but this trip has been wonderful.  The food in Vegas was been amazing, from breakfast at Thomas Keller's Bouchon (twice) to the duck breast at Emeril Lagasse's Table 10.  Not to mention the wine and bellinis!  I was able to see a Cirque show on Wednesday night after an enormous waffle cone full of Ben & Jerrys.  My suite came complete with 3 televisions and a phone in the bathroom,.  The king size bed was soft yet firm and loaded with perfect pillows.  The people working at the Venetian were kind and helpful including the blackjack dealer who helped explain the rules and strategy while very kindly (and happily) taking my money!  (Not to worry, I was only willing to gamble $50...Grace will still get to go to college!).  For all of the great touristy reasons the trip was excellent!

And then there was the real reason I made the trip.  On Wednesday morning I shared my cancer story with around 200 people who work for Genentech.  What an audience!  They listened closely, asked questions, and thanked me.  Thanked me again and again and again.  I have had numerous opportunities to share my story with patients, caregivers, and survivors but this was the first time I have spoken to people who work in the field of cancer but rarely get to meet those of us in the thick of it.  At the risk of sounding like I'm sucking up to the company, it is important to me to say thank you to them.  They reminded me that sharing my cancer story is so much bigger than me.  So, Thank you.

Surrounded by cancer...by choice

For a little over a year I have worked in a pediatric hematology oncology clinic, supporting the parents of children in treatment.  Almost on a weekly basis someone finds out what I do for work and just after the obligatory horrified look, they ask "How in the world can you work there?".  I tend to hear this question and smile humbly (I hope I look humble), and then try to deduce the meaning behind the question.  Typically, if I'm speaking with someone who knows of my own history with cancer, they are genuinely curious about why I would choose to stay surrounded by cancer.  Those poor individuals who do not know my history honestly seem to feel sorry for my choice of work.  They are thrilled that someone is willing to work with pediatric cancer and the families affected by it, but they "know" that person could never be them. 

So, after being asked, once again, this past Thursday about how I could possibly choose to stay in the cancer world, I spent some time thinking about it.  (This is not a new topic for my poor little brain and is often a topic that seems to come up when I'm trying to sleep!).  Why do I surround myself with cancer? Would it be "healthier" to go back to teaching or perhaps a whole new profession? Is it even a choice for me to work in cancer?

Here are the answers that I've thought of most recently:

I surround myself with cancer because it feels right. 
I surround myself with cancer because when you have cancer you meet other people with cancer. 
I surround myself with cancer because I would be surrounded by it even if I buried my head in the sand.
I surround myself with cancer because my story provides hope to other patients and their families.
I surround myself with cancer because I know what fear does to a person and perhaps I can help someone else breath through that fear.
I surround myself with cancer because tomorrow is not promised but today I can't provide a shoulder to cry on, a cup of hot coffee, or a joke to ease the tension.
I surround myself with cancer because I can.


A sincere thank you to the patients and families that have allowed me into their lives during the most difficult of times.

1 doctor, 2 doctors, 3 doctors, 4.....

I'm sitting in the waiting room of a doctor's office for an appointment with a new doctor.  These days I do my best to avoid adding new doctor's to my contact list but sometimes it is unavoidable.  Fortunately, this visit is a simple primary care physician change.  It was time to try a new office, an office with a doctor and staff that have a great deal of experience caring for cancer survivors.  On my way here, while sitting in traffic, I was trying to count the number of physician phone numbers are programed into my phone...not to worry, I wasn't actually looking at the phone, but instead trying to think of all the names from memory.  This exercise proved to be more difficult than I imagined.  First of all, my memory stinks.  Between age and residual chemo brain, I'm often lucky if I can remember what I ate for breakfast.  Second of all, the list seems to go on and on and on...

There is a primary care physician, an ob-gyn, my dentist, a thoracic surgeon, more than one research nurse, multiple oncologists, primary nurses pharmacists, a transplant coordinator, and who knows how many others that I met in the medical field throughout my cancer nightmare whom I now consider friends and keep in touch with.  And on and on and on....

Fortunately, I have been blessed with world class medical care and as a result I'm still here to complain about the number of doctors with phone numbers in my contact list.  Anyway, here I am waiting to meet yet another doctor.  Keep your fingers crossed that this is another one to put permanently in the list.  We can all use good people looking out for us, even if it isn't always easy to remember all of there names.