tapping.

Reblogged from putting the grrrrr in Grimes:

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"I liked tap, because I liked hearing the results of my movements."

"There is pain and sacrifice in everyone's world.
That's why, when I was dancing, I had no pain. "
- Suzanne Farrell

Today is “World Cancer Day” and a personal celebration of 2 ½ years sober.  Shocking to reflect back and realize that I have been living with cancer  for over five years—and this July will mark THREE years with metastatic disease.

Read more… 542 more words

Read her. You'll love her too.

Why You NEED to Read Guest Blogger’s, Jen Smith’s, First Memoir: Learning to Live Legendary

Educated as a counselor, Cells Gone Wild’s Guest Blogger, Jennifer Smith, is an elegant, yet spontaneous conversationalist whose passion is connecting with others. Trained as a counselor to listen, her words are powerful and deeply personal–inviting you to ask and answer those difficult questions that make life meaningful. Her story draws you in, her writing reads like an intimate story from your best friend. Her memoir captures a year of her journey through Cancerland and gives an inspirational look at how to truly live legendary while dying.

Here is her preface, which explains why she NEEDED to write this first book:

After being diagnosed with a terminal form of breast cancer at thirty one, I have spent much of my time learning how to live and enjoy every precious moment of my life. I have realized my time is truly a priceless commodity and to be shared only with those adding to my quality of life. I have discovered how to Live Legendary and I have spent far more time Living Legendary and cheating death than thinking about dying.

I didn’t always know how to Live Legendary. I grew up middle class, and ran with a core group of friends in high school. I didn’t win any awards for sports or academics. I wasn’t the prom queen or voted “best in class” for anything. I continued on in my life with a to-do list of things: college, career, marriage, family, etc… but that list never had anything legendary. I can’t attribute just one moment to the change. I was thirty years young when I found the lump in my right breast. I remember telling a few friends; they dismissed it by telling me it was a clogged milk duct. They had a point; I was nursing my 8-month old son when I found it. I was healthy, 5’11”, and in good shape. I worked out regularly. I didn’t even have cavities. I volunteered. I felt like I was a good person! When I found the lump, I also assumed it was a clogged milk duct from breast feeding. I had a clogged duct before, but this felt different. My clogged duct, confirmed by the breast feeding clinic, was painful. I used heat and gentle massage and the painful lump disappeared. This lump didn’t hurt. It felt like a dime sized rock under the skin, and it wasn’t going away. At my son’s 9-month baby check-up, I looked at his pediatrician and said, “I know you treat children, but I found a lump.” She was the one who encouraged me to get it checked out. I later learned she had another young mom in her practice recently diagnosed with breast cancer.

I also can’t attribute Learning toLive Legendary to when the cancer came back at thirty one in 2008. It is usually considered a fast recurrence when breast cancer comes back within a year of completing treatment. I had my first scan three months after completing treatment. I remember walking down the hall with the radiologist to view the results when I saw my radiation oncologist and head chemo nurse through the window. I started to crumble and burst in to tears. I knew. Screaming, “NO!!! NO!!! NO!!!” I started to collapse; my mom and husband held me up. Realizing this very emotional scene was in the middle of a public hallway, I said, “Get me out of the hall.” When we walked in to the radiologist’s dimly lit office surrounded by computer monitors with images of my scans, I simply said, “Where the fuck is it?” The radiologist calmly explained there were several areas, or hot spots, in my bones. I’d already endured a lumpectomy, six grueling months of biweekly chemotherapy, and seven weeks of daily radiation – a colossal amount of treatment, and somehow it had spread to my bones. Now that the cancer spread outside of the breast, it was a diagnosis of Stage IV, meaning it is considered incurable and terminal. I was thirty one and confronted the illusion of immortality.

And maybe most amazingly, I can’t attribute Learning toLive Legendary to filing and going through a divorce while being in treatment for Stage IV breast cancer. I was not in a nourishing, satisfying marriage, but I was utterly devastated when I learned my husband had led a double life our entire marriage. I still don’t know the whole story, and I’m okay with that. What I do know is that it has more twists and drama than a Lifetime movie. I know that I loved the illusion of a person. I also know what a relief it is to not have to worry about stories that don’t add up, lies, and broken promises.

So many times, I’ve heard, “Keep up the fight.” I wonder, though: what am I really fighting? My body? Cancer wasn’t the first time I’ve had my body fail me. We unsuccessfully tried to conceive for a year before I underwent multiple rounds of infertility treatments. I want to love my body, yet it’s the enemy, and I’m trapped inside. Society is hard enough on women, so seeing as I’m 5’11”, slender, and have high cheekbones, you might think I love my body. I do: now. After rounds of infertility treatment, a miscarriage, cancer, countless surgeries leaving scars everywhere, millions of dollars in treatment leaving me bald twice (so far), I do finally love my body. Because inside my body is what really matters. The body is just a vessel – full of imperfections. It succumbs to cancer. It isn’t as strong and powerful as we’d like to believe. It’s what the vessel holds that is sublime and beautiful and transcendent. It’s ironic that as I became even more scarred and mutilated, my spirit and sense of self worth became stronger and more empowered. My grace, compassion, integrity, sense of humor, and desire to Live Legendary is contagious. Or at least I hope. I often joke, “I have cancer, not cooties; don’t worry, I’m not contagious.” But this piece of me…who I am at the core -that- is what I’ve learned from this journey. I hope to share a glimpse of it with you in recalling the “Magic 7 of 2011.” This book is a tribute to all of you – you who made the Magic 7 happen. For you, I thank you.

A recent review of her book states:

Jennifer Smith is as animated in print as she is in person. Her book, Learning to Live Legendary is a magnified glimpse into a very personal battle with cancer. As you read her words, you can almost feel the very real and raw emotion with which it was written. I say “almost” because I realize that no one can possibly know exactly how she feels. They may relate but they aren’t living it. Jennifer Smith is living it. True to the title, her life is undoubtedly legendary. Throughout her story, her words emit a very palpable sense of urgency. She convinces the reader that love and happiness is not just the ultimate but the immediate goal in life. It’s clear that she has achieved it. The proof is in the pudding (made up of her astounding support system of loving family members, and the truest friends in the world.) It is thrilling to read about her fairy-tale like dreams come true, in the midst of a nightmarish reality.

Perhaps Jennifer’s burden is our blessing. I wish our lesson wasn’t learned this way but she teaches us how to live in spite of life! She helps the reader become fully aware of all the repercussions that this horrible disease brings. She dispels any myths about cancer and explains the incredible toll it takes on the mind, body and spirit. It is evident that cancer has robbed her of good health. But it is also clear that she has been rewarded with opportunities that most people can’t dream of. Her eternal optimism and innate ability to help others is nothing short of inspirational.

Does she have the worst disease? In my opinion, yes, absolutely. Does she live a legendary life? In my opinion, yes, absolutely!

To purchase the book on Amazon, click on the book below:

 

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/1105429660/ref=cm_sw_su_dp

Guest Blogger, Cameron Von St. James, on What Cancer Can Teach Us During the Holidays

Cells Gone Wild most recent Guest Blogger, Cameron Von St. James, recently contacted me to see if he could write an article about his wife’s diagnosis of malignant pleural mesotheliom, which came during the holiday season 6 years ago.  This is what cancer taught him and his family; this is what his story can teach all of us during the holidays.  

A time to gather round with my loved ones, celebrate, be thankful, and enjoy friends and family: the holidays were always something I always looked forward to every year. I never looked forward to the holiday as much as I did in 2005, however. My wife and I welcomed our only child that year. In August, Lily was born and we were so excited to be new parents. Heather and I spoke of the holidays often that year, talking about the new traditions we wanted to create with Lily and the old traditions that we wanted to keep for her. It was such an exciting time for us.

In the midst of all our excitement, something came along the stripped all of our happiness away in an instant. Three days before Thanksgiving, Heather was diagnosed with mesothelioma. As we learned more about this rare and deadly form of cancer, I began to realize that my family’s once bright and exciting future now looked very uncertain. I was angry and afraid, and while I hoped for the best, all I could picture was the worst. I couldn’t remember why I was looking forward to the holidays or what I had to be thankful for.

We still celebrated the holidays as best we could, though. Heather’s parents flew in to celebrate with us for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Heather and I were preparing to go to Boston after the holidays were over for her treatment, and before that could happen we needed to have a much-dreaded discussion with her parents. We discussed money. Heather and I both had jobs, but the bills were coming in faster than the money and we were struggling a lot. On top of that, we would soon be down to just one income and we knew we would not be able to stay afloat. We had to talk about which of our assets we could liquidate. We had to talk about our bills, our debts, and how much money my in-laws would give us to help pay our bills. It was awful, and I was mortified and embarrassed.  It would be years before I could look back on that conversation with anything but shame.  However, I now see how mistaken I was to view it that way.

My pride did not allow me to see that I actually had a lot to be thankful for that year. I had a family who wanted to help. The left their home and came to us, offered to help us in any way possible, and was there for us when we needed them most.  They were ready and willing to make incredible sacrifices of their own in order to help us through our difficult time. That’s something to be very thankful for. This year, I’m thankful for all those people. I’m also thankful for my wife and my daughter, and I am thankful for the time we have to create more memories and enjoy one another.  After intense mesothelioma chemotherapy, radiation, and surgery, along with the love and support of our caring friends and family, Heather beat her cancer and we’ve been able to celebrate seven wonderful Christmases with our daughter.  We look forward to many more to come, and hope that our story can provide some inspiration and hope to all those currently battling cancer this holiday season.

Cameron is husband to Heather Von St. James, survivor advocate for the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance, and father to Lily Rose. He, along with Heather and young Lily, had their world’s turned upside down when Heather was diagnosed with malignant pleural mesothelioma, just 3 1/2 months after the birth of his only child. When faced with the very real possibility of raising Lily on his own, he fought alongside Heather in her battle with mesothelioma. It was his determination and refusal to compromise on doctors or treatments that led them to Boston to receive radical surgery from esteemed mesothelioma surgeon, David Sugarbaker. Heather continues to thrive 6 years later.

Through out the next few years, while being a caregiver to Heather and dad to Lily, Cameron returned to school full time to finish his degree. He worked full time, went to school full time and graduated with high honors at the top of his class in June of 2010 with a Bachelors of Science in Information Technology. He was soon offered a position at US Bank as Network Analyst and continues to pursue his career.

Like Heather, Cameron is passionate about bringing awareness to mesothelioma and the dangers of asbestos exposure. It is his hope that sharing his story will help others those battling cancer and their caregivers who provide them care and guidance in their journey.

Read more: http://www.mesothelioma.com/blog/authors/cameron/bio.htm#ixzz2FQ08RjGB