Monday, February 16, 2009

Get Your Rear In Gear!

As many of you know, last year I was thinking about putting on a gala to raise money for colon cancer. Fortunately, many friends urged me to discard this notion, since putting on a gala while I was going through chemotherapy was insane. I then told myself that I would do it “next year.” Well – next year has arrived. I have been debating what I should do given the current economic crisis.

Yesterday, my brilliant friend, Gina, figured out a new way for me to raise funds for colon cancer and engage everyone else in the effort as well - without having to wear a ballgown. In fact, this activity is more geared toward t-shirts and running shoes.

What is this exciting opportunity? The Colon Cancer Coalition is holding a 5K Run/Walk on October 4 in San Francisco entitled “Get Your Rear In Gear.” I am planning to form a team to participate in this terrific event. I am telling all of you early so that you have plenty of time to prepare. For those of you not from the Bay Area, October is a beautiful time to come and visit (and get a little exercise while raising money for a great cause).

The sign-up forms aren’t out yet. They will be available next month during National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month (I’m sure you’re already buying your streamers for this year’s celebration). For more information about the race, go to http://www.getyourrearingear.com/events/get-your-rear-in-gear-events/san-francisco-october-2009.

I’m really excited about this. Our team will need to come up with a snazzy name, but I’m sure that we can come up with something since “colorectal” lends itself to so many many options.

Stay tuned for more information and start your training…

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Isn't It Done Already?

Over the past month, I’ve written several blog entries, but I haven’t submitted them to my blog. Why? Because I felt like my blog sounded so wrapped up and neat and done. My cancer was done. There was a happy ending. I assumed that people didn’t want to hear from me anymore.

But it’s not done. The fear of recurrence remains. About once a day the fear sweeps through my body, generally catching me off guard. It takes my breath away. Every story that comes out about cancer – most recently the Ruth Bader Ginsburg story - strikes fear in me to my core.

A couple of weeks ago, I met up with an old high school friend (who is also a survivor) and told her about my dilemma about the blog. As a fellow cancer survivor she also struggles with everyone’s need to be done with her cancer. But then she urged me to keep writing. This blog was not just for me to express what was going on as I was going through treatment, but also to educate others who know people with cancer about what a cancer patient and survivor goes through both during and following cancer treatment. It is important that friends and family of cancer survivors know that although it may be done and over with for them, it really isn’t over for the survivor.

So – I’ve decided to keep writing. For those of you who have decided that you’ve had enough of Eve’s life with cancer – I promise I won’t be hurt if you remove yourself from my blog. For those of you who stay with me – I hope that every time you hear from me it reminds you that you need to set up that colonoscopy or urge someone you love to do so. Or maybe it’s just a reminder that life can take unexpected turns and so you should treasure every day.

Monday, January 5, 2009

What a Difference a Year Makes

So today is the anniversary of my surgery and diagnosis. It feels so surreal. When I awoke from surgery in Mercy Hospital in Des Moines one year ago, I had no idea how profoundly my world would change over the next year.

This is the week that everyone begins to act on their New Year’s resolutions. I, too, am focusing on my own 2009 resolutions. Thanks to the timing of my diagnosis, I now have an "anniversary" which will remind me of the most important resolutions I can make - to stay healthy and focused on what truly matters.

One year ago today, I was lying in a hospital facing my own mortality. This year, I started the day with acupuncture and will end it with some exercising. Last year, I was researching chemo treatment options. This year, I’m trying to figure out what vacations I can talk Pat into taking. Last year, I was wondering if I would live to see another winter. Today, I am confident that I will live to see many many New Year’s celebrations.

Yes, it's cliché, but what a difference a year makes.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Thank You for 2008

Yesterday, I was sending a note to a friend reflecting on this past year and I began to write, “I just want to forget 2008.” Mid-sentence I stopped writing and deleted the sentence because I realized that it wasn’t true. I don’t want to forget 2008. It was an incredible year for me.

Admittedly, 2008 was the toughest year of my life. But this was the year when I realized what extraordinary people I had in my life. I met incredible people and my relationships with friends, family and colleagues became much more meaningful.

From bringing food, to taking me to doctor’s appointments, to covering for me at work, to praying for me and finally, to laughing and crying with me – my circle of friends and family rallied. In a strange way, I feel blessed to have had this experience.

Mind you, I have no desire to ever repeat this past year. Once was enough. As I head into 2009, neuropathy from the chemotherapy still affects my fingertips. While it is supposed to fade away as time passes, there’s a large part of me that doesn’t want it to go away. As I go about my life, every so often I tap my fingers together and remember what I’ve gone through and what I’ve learned. These are the lessons that I hope never disappear.

Thank you for the role you played in my life this year.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Coming Full Circle

My emotions over this week have fascinated me. On the eve of the election, I felt a strange sense of finality – not just for the presidential campaign, but also for my bout with cancer.

As you recall, this battle against cancer began for me when I was campaigning in Iowa . So the end of the campaign triggered the feeling that this "cancer chapter" of my life is finally over.

I've been drawing similarities between the Obama campaign and my struggle – particularly our common theme of focusing on hope for the future.

Senator Obama has been given an opportunity by the people of the United States to do great things for our country over the next four years. On a significantly smaller scale, I believe that I have been given an opportunity to do wonderful things over the next forty years (hopefully I’m not being too optimistic) for my family and community—thanks to the amazing work of my oncologist, surgeon and acupuncturist.

Like Senator Obama, I can’t squander this opportunity. I will be faced with challenges and there will be days when fear will return. Even now, every time I hear about someone dying from cancer, my heart stops and my stomach churns. The struggle is in not allowing myself to dwell on it, but to stay positive and full of conviction.

Some days it feels like this past year was just a nightmare. It’s hard to believe how much I have gone through. My young girls are much too aware of what the word “chemotherapy” means, my husband’s wedding vows were tested at far too early of an age and many of my friends and family were forced to face their own mortality when hearing about me. While I am glad to move on with my life, it’s important that I don’t forget the lessons learned over this past year. This was a wakeup call.

My prayer is this past year was simply that: a really loud wakeup call. And today there's a chance for America, and my life, to begin afresh.

As I write this my daughter Ari just brought me a beautiful painting that she made for me. She says she made it “just because I love you so much, Mommy.” I need to now go and answer that wakeup call. I’m off to play with my amazing girls!

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Another Grueling Task

Yesterday, Pat and I did something that we’ve been meaning to do for the past 5 years - create our wills, our family trust and our advance health care directives. You would think that I would have been more on top of this, particularly since I spent the last 10 months fighting a deadly disease. But, while this task was on my “To Do” list, we never seemed to make the time to get it done.

I don’t have much of an excuse for the previous 4 ½ years – except that there seemed to be so many immediate issues that overtook us, and the likelihood of death at our age seemed remote. Then, over the past 10 months, when death became more of an imminent possibility, rather than rush to finish our wills, I avoided the task – perhaps because the possibility that it would be used much sooner was too overwhelming to me.

Creating these documents was not an simple task. Determining who will raise our children, who will decide whether to take us off of life support, how we wish for our bodies to be utilized after death, who will execute our will and trust, who will make decisions for us if we are incapacitated – these are not easy decisions.

Now, a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Above all else, over the past 10 months, I’ve learned that we can’t take our health for granted. Life can change in an instant. I feel confident that when my time comes, be it within the next few years or many decades from now, I have ensured that my daughters will be ok.

I have used this blog before to urge everyone to get a colonoscopy and donate funds to cancer research and now I am going to use it to encourage action once again. If you haven’t done so already, I strongly urge you to create these critical documents for yourself and your family. It’s just too important to wait.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

A Worthy Cause

Next week, I will be celebrating the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. It is during this time of celebration that Jews throughout the world reflect on how they will promote the practice of tikkun olam (repairing the world) in the upcoming year.

Thanks to my dear friend and next door neighbor Liz (the same gal who wrote the “Fun” with Eve blog entry a few months ago), I have the opportunity to get started with my "repairing the world" efforts early. Liz has been actively involved in raising funds for breast cancer research.

This is another cancer that is particularly poignant for me since my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer several years ago. She was fortunate in that they were able to remove her cancer and not subject her to chemotherapy.

This year to honor women in Liz’s life who have had to battle breast cancer and to raise more money, Liz has written an essay called Answering the Call that is included in a new anthology called Knowing Pains: Women on Love, Sex and Work in our 40’s. This project has been pulled together by her friend and fellow leadership specialist Molly Rosen in support of Breast Cancer Awareness Month – October. All proceeds from the sale of the book benefit Breast Cancer Action (www.bcaction.org <http://www.bcaction.org/> ). They hope to raise over $50,000 from the sale of the book – THIS YEAR!

Here is your chance to honor someone you love who has been affected by breast cancer AND be entertained with a collection of real-life, tell-it-like-it-is stories from women in their 40’s. I would be so grateful if you would consider:

1. Ordering their book at www.amazon.com <http://www.amazon.com/> or your local book seller. Order many copies and give them to everyone on your holiday gift list. They also make great hostess gifts!

2. Passing this information on to others you know. Encourage your friends and families to buy the book and help end breast cancer!

3. Come to a reading. Locally, they will be at Montclair’s Great Good Place for Books on Sept 26th at 7pm. Other locations around the country are listed on the site www.knowingpains.com <http://www.knowingpains.com/> .

I'm so proud of my friend and neighbor Liz for her role in this amazing book. Once again, I feel so blessed to be surrounded by truly phenomenal people.