Blood Cancer Awareness Month...Sharing My Story and Some Information

Originally posted on HarryDaniell's site September 22, 2011

June 1, 2004

As the day wore on and the time approached for Barbara’s stem cells to be transfused into me, sorrow replaced anxiety. I am losing a part of me as her stem cells replace mine and begin producing her blood in my body. My blood type will change from O- to O+, which is Barbara’s blood type. This changing of blood type is somewhat unsettling to me. However, I also view this day as one of rebirth—another birthday to celebrate. It is extraordinary how this whole bone marrow transplant process works. It is truly miraculous. And not only is this a physical rebirth, but because of all the self-reflection and positive changes I’m attempting to make in my life, it is a spiritual and emotional rebirth as well. So despite feeling melancholy over what I am losing, there is excitement and anticipation about what I am gaining. I thank God for the new stem cells that will generate new and healthy blood in my body and grant me a second chance at life.

Around 3:30 p.m., Dr. Hsu administered the blood transfusion. The transplant was a slow, intravenous infusion through my catheter of the bone marrow collected from my sister Barbara. My friend Karen B was already stationed at my bedside and my sister Karen waltzed into the room just minutes before the doctor began the procedure. The transplant, which took all of twenty minutes, was uneventful except for an intense scratchiness in my throat caused by the preservative in the blood. I was given Benadryl prior to the transfusion, which quickly sent me off to la-la land. Meanwhile, my sister and friend sat vigil, watching my blood pressure rise and fall—sometimes significantly—on the monitor. The nurses assured them that this was normal. ~ Excerpt from Rebirth

I am a leukemia survivor. September is Blood Cancer Awareness Month, so I am sharing my story in order to put a face to those who have had, or are currently living with, a blood cancer diagnosis. I was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia (ALL) December 18, 2003. I went through four rounds of high-dose chemotherapy (for which I was hospitalized 4-5 days each time) and total body irradiation twice a day for four days prior to my bone marrow transplant, which took place June 1, 2004.

Overall, I dealt well with chemotherapy. I did not experience vomiting, mouth sores or any major infections. My discomfort was mostly due to extreme fatigue and some nausea. And of course, I lost my hair, which I thought would be devastating, but it wasn’t. I knew it would eventually grow back, and it was rather interesting because how often does a girl get to see what she looks like bald?

As my doctors and I began discussing BMT, additional drama was injected into the situation because my bone marrow donor match was my sister Barbara who was pregnant with her second child. Rarely is a pregnant woman an acceptable stem cell/bone marrow donor, and there is very little information available about pregnancy and bone marrow donation, which made this an even more difficult, agonizing decision for her and her husband. They knew this would greatly increase my chances for a successful outcome, but what impact would it have on their unborn child?

In the end, twenty-eight weeks into her pregnancy, she agreed to do the bone marrow harvest. A needle was inserted into her hipbone about seventy times in two hours with a spinal only. To ensure the baby was not put at additional risk, she opted not to have general anesthesia, which is normal protocol for a bone marrow donor during a bone marrow harvest. She saved my life that day; she is my hero. And today, that baby is a gorgeous, healthy, smart seven-year-old boy named Andrew.

Andrew at 1 month old (with me)

Andrew and I (present day)

Going into chemo, radiation, and transplant I knew there had been considerable advances in the treatment of blood cancers over the past few decades, and that knowledge gave me hope. Blood Cancer Awareness month is a time to focus more intensely on educating the public about the types of blood cancers, providing information about cancer research and the need for funding said research, and highlighting the resources available to survivors and their families as they navigate their way through treatment and recovery.

Harry’s September 15 post outlined some statistics related to blood cancers and survival rates, and while survival rates in some blood cancers have increased substantially, there is still much work to be done to eradicate cancer. Maintaining funding levels for cancer research is vitally important, and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) provides millions of dollars every year toward research and the development of new medications. Gleevec, FDA approved in 2001, and Sprycel, approved in 2006, are two therapies proven quite effective over the past decade in treating chronic myelogenous (or myeloid) leukemia.

In 2008, when I first heard about Sprycel, I was talking to my oncologist about it and he informed me that Sprycel had also been found to be effective in treating ALL when the Philadelphia chromosome is present. I thought that was pretty amazing—that a drug found effective in treating one type of leukemia was then found to be effective treating another one. The added value of drug research is that these therapies are often found to treat multiple diseases—Gleevec is now approved to treat ten different cancers.

In these tight economic times of government budget cutting, it is vital that cancer research be funded adequately so that advances in the treatment of blood cancers will continue to result in improved survival rates. Light the Night is one program (of many) the LLS has implemented to raise money that is then allocated toward cancer research and patient services and education programs. Next month, I will be posting in more detail about the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and their Light the Night program. Stay tuned…

September is Blood Cancer Awareness Month

December 18, 2003
At about 5:30 p.m., Dr. Alter entered my room, and I knew immediately the news was going to be life changing. He sat down and informed me that the bone biopsy came back positive for leukemia. A jolt of panic surged through my entire body. I took a deep breath, pursed my lips together, and tried to hold back the tears. I parted my lips slightly and released my breath slowly. I glanced at Barbara, and clearly, she was upset. I had suspected as much, but actually hearing it was shocking.

Dr. Alter informed me that Dr. Stuart Goldberg, my oncologist, would be in later to talk to me more in depth about what I was facing and the treatment options available. He also said that another bone marrow extraction would be performed the following day because the one today had produced no marrow and that is needed to determine the type of leukemia I have as there are several varieties.

 ~ Excerpt from Rebirth: A Leukemia Survivor’s Journal of Healing during Chemotherapy, Bone Marrow Transplant, and Recovery

That is the day I began my blood cancer education, in particular as it pertained to acute lymphocytic (also known as lymphoblastic) leukemia (ALL). It was determined a few days later that I had adult ALL. ALL is the most common form of blood cancer found in children and today has a cure rate of about 90.8% for children five and younger, per the National Cancer Institute. Long-term survivor statistics aren’t quite so rosy, about 66%, when factoring in all ages. I am seven years post-bone marrow transplant and consider myself quite fortunate.

Blood cancers include leukemia, lymphoma, myeloma, myelodysplastic syndromes, and myeloproliferative diseases. Within each of these cancers there are several variations.

Over the next month I will be posting information about blood cancers that the reader may find useful. I am an Advocacy Network and First Connection Volunteer and speaker for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS), the largest voluntary health agency dedicated to blood cancers. The organization’s mission is to cure leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin's disease and myeloma, and improve the quality of life of patients and their families. The LLS is a terrific resource for patients, caregivers and health care professionals.

A list of additional national cancer charities and foundations can be found on the Resource4Leukemia site.

Finding Inspiration from a Movie

“He laughs at fear, afraid of nothing. He does not shy away from the sword. He cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.”   ~ Penny Chenery Tweedy, owner of Secretariat, the 1973 Triple Crown Winner

These are the words Diane Lane (as Penny Chenery in the movie Secretariat) speaks as the viewer watches in a moment of silence, a brief reprieve from the pounding of hooves on the track and the cheering, screaming fans in the stands, waiting for Secretariat to storm around the final bend at the Belmont Stakes to secure his 1973 Triple Crown win. Chills run up my spine then the silence breaks as Secretariat rounds the turn toward a record-breaking 31-length victory. To this day, no horse has come close to his margin of victory or his record.

I did not see the movie when it opened in 2010, but purchased it recently from On Demand. I watched it and when it ended, immediately watched it again. The horse, the owner, the trainer, the jockey, the groom, the secretary…these people made an amazing team. The story of Secretariat is more than just that of an exceptional horse, but also one of a woman determined to see her father’s life's work through to the end despite the obstacles. Ms. Chenery was determined, confident, persistent, resourceful, loving, supportive, and demanding when necessary. She was an example to her children that if you have a dream or a goal you do not back down, which is a valuable lesson for anyone.

Sometimes it is easy to give up or become discouraged when setbacks occur or people refuse to help or provide needed support. In the end, it is only ourselves who can make sure we stay on track. Fear of failure, rejection, or the unknown are the biggest reasons people do not take the risks involved in changing careers, moving to a different city, pursuing a romantic interest, traveling around the world, or any other adventure.

I am a calculated risk-taker, I wish I weren’t quite so calculated, but I like to know where I’m headed; I always have a game plan. Still, if I could just get past the fear of rejection—my biggest fear—I might be more confident approaching casting directors and agents in order to potentially move my acting career along faster. I don't have a fear of rejection at auditions (I'm used to that by now) but it's the fear of asking for what I need or want: representation or more auditions. I am working to overcome this fear and am always encouraged when I hear a phrase or quote that truly resonates with being fearless, and the above quote does just that: Don’t be afraid, don’t shy away, and don’t stand still.

Lucky Seven...Years since BMT

Andrew & I  - Christmas 2010 in Tell City, IN

Today I celebrate my second birthday. I am seven years old. The anniversary of my bone marrow transplant is always a time for celebration, even if it’s only me celebrating. It is amazing to me that it has been seven years because I remember so much of it quite vividly, yet at the same time, it seems an eternity ago. So much has happened in those seven years since I wrote the following:

Excerpt from Rebirth:
June 1, 2004 - Tuesday, Transplant Day (Rebirth Day)  Day 0

As the day wore on and the time approached for Barbara’s stem cells to be transfused into me, sorrow replaced anxiety. I am losing a part of me as her stem cells replace mine and begin producing her blood in my body. My blood type will change from O- to O+, which is Barbara’s blood type. This changing of blood type is somewhat unsettling to me. However, I also view this day as one of rebirth—another birthday to celebrate. It is extraordinary how this whole bone marrow transplant process works. It is truly miraculous. And not only is this a physical rebirth, but because of all the self-reflection and positive changes I’m attempting to make in my life, it is a spiritual and emotional rebirth as well. So despite feeling melancholy over what I’m losing, there is excitement and anticipation about what I’m gaining. I thank God for the new stem cells that will generate new and healthy blood in my body and grant me a second chance at life.

Around 3:30 p.m., Dr. Hsu, another physician in Dr. Goldberg’s oncology group, administered the blood transfusion. The transplant was a slow intravenous infusion through my catheter of the bone marrow collected from Barbara. Karen B was already stationed at my bedside and Karen waltzed into the room just minutes before the doctor began the procedure. The transplant, which took all of twenty minutes, was uneventful except for an intense scratchiness in my throat caused by the preservative in the blood. I was given Benadryl prior to the transfusion, which quickly sent me off to la-la land. Meanwhile, my sister and friend sat vigil, watching my blood pressure rise and fall, sometimes significantly, on the monitor. The nurses assured them that this was normal.

I’ve always been a little superstitious about the number seven—in a good way. I was born on the 7^thand 7 is believed to be God’s number—there are many references to it in the Bible. There are many references throughout history about the origins of lucky number seven. Many of my family members’ birth dates are multiples of seven: my nephew Andrew was born on the 14^th and he will be 7 in August. He is my life marker since BMT because in a way Barbara gave birth to both of us in 2004—she was my bone marrow donor while pregnant with him. There is a very deep connection between me and that little boy, who is gorgeous and smart and funny. 

I feel lucky and so blessed to have not just lived, but thrived these past seven years. I don’t know why I survived and other cancer survivors I’ve known did not. All I know is that my life is a gift, and with that gift comes a responsibility to give back. I also try to enjoy and appreciate every day I’ve been granted since my cancer diagnosis. I wake up every morning, giving thanks for another day on this glorious planet, even when I’m highly disgruntled with current events in this country and around the world.

Even if suffering through an illness is not one’s fate, not one of us is guaranteed tomorrow, so don’t put off doing activities, taking trips, or being with the people who are most important to you; or taking a risk to accomplish a long-desired goal that you have been too scared for one reason or another to pursue. Life is scary; taking risks is scary, but I’ve more often times than not found those risks to be more than worth it.

I heard someone the other day say that life is not fair, and asked why do bad things happen to good people? Life is not fair—bad things happen to good people and wonderful things happen to terrible people; sometimes there seems to be no justice. However, and as much as I want justice, fairness and equality to prevail, it’s not the justice that matters. What matters is how you play the cards you are dealt. Do you fall apart and live with anger and fear, or do you embrace [accept] what is and figure out how to live your life in the best way possible for you and for those who interact with you at any given moment?

One of my favorite stories that Thich Nhat Hanh includes in his book The Miracle of Mindfulness is Leo Tolstoy’s “Three Questions.” Versions of the story vary slightly, but it is summarized below an the excerpt  from Rebirth.

April 6, 2004 – Tuesday

In The Miracle of Mindfulness, Thich Nhat Hanh recounts a story by Tolstoy about an emperor searching for the answer to three questions:

1. What is the best time to do each thing?

2. Who are the most important people to work with?

3. What is the most important thing to do at all times?

The answer is this:

Remember that there is only one important time and that is now. The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion. The most important person is always the person you are with, who is right before you, for who knows if you will have dealings with any other person in the future? The most important pursuit is making the person standing at your side happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life.

Often we forget that it is the very people around us that we must live for first of all.

To this day, seven years later, I try to remember the answers to those questions and to be present whether I am with work colleagues, friends, or family members, especially those nieces and nephews whom I was not sure I’d live to see grow up, or even see some of them born. Lucky number seven…it has been for me anyway. 

The Perfect Gift

April 21, 2004
11:25 p.m.
I shouldn’t have done it, but tonight I retrieved one of my transplant books and reread it. The pre-transplant section includes suggestions for “Getting Your Affairs in Order.” I don’t have a will, and even if I did, I don’t have a thing to bequeath to anyone. But it made me think. My family would need to know the location of my life insurance policy, I want “The Prayer of St. Francis” and “Amazing Grace” sang at my funeral, and I want to write a message to be read to family and friends after the sermon. (This is the performer in me—even my funeral will be a production!) The passwords of e-mail and various financial accounts need to be shared with family. The addresses of friends who don’t have e-mail (or whose information is not stored in my cell phone) need to be noted so that in the event of my death, they can be contacted. And the most important loose-end is Aidan. I am his godmother, and I long to remain a presence in his life. As a Catholic, he will celebrate many sacraments as he grows into an adult and beyond, and I want to be sure he receives cards and messages from me on those special occasions (as well as high school and college graduations) regardless of my presence in this world.

Thinking about all of this has made me incredibly sad, and I’ve been sobbing for almost two hours now. Part of me wants to organize all of this information, and another part feels that if I do, then I am preparing to die. On the other hand, if I don’t put these things in order and I do die, none of my wishes will be known. I don’t want to die and I’m afraid that by doing these things I’ll be saying, “Okay, I’m ready,” and I’m not ready, and I’m so scared.
(Excerpt from Rebirth)

I posted the above journal entry on my blog the following day and shortly thereafter received a box in the mail from Karryn, a co-worker from my Cigna days in Cincinnati. I opened the package and inside was a floral filing box, about 5” x 9” x 12”. I removed the top and saw that the box was filled with greeting cards—probably more than fifty— for every occasion, even for Baptism, Communion, Confirmation, Penance and Reconciliation, and graduations. Karryn had read my blog post and decided that I needed a supply of cards.

I never did prepare all those cards with notes to Aidan in the event of my death. I couldn’t make myself do it, mostly because I refused to envision a future in which I was absent from his life. I suppose had my situation gotten worse and death looked inevitable, I would’ve written the messages and given the cards to his mother for safekeeping.

I have nearly exhausted that supply of cards. I used all the Baptism ones for Andrew, Grace, and Alexa (I had to purchase one for Nathaniel), but this is the first Communion one I've needed. Aidan, who was about sixteen months old when I wrote the above entry, is now eight and will make his First Communion this weekend. It is not only an important day for him, but also a joyous milestone for me: In April 2004 I did not know if I’d live to see him receive this sacrament, yet here I am, seven years later, still an integral part of his life.

I haven’t spoken to, seen, or even corresponded with Karryn in many years, but I will always treasure her gift of greeting cards; it meant the world to me. She saw a need and filled it. During that turbulent and uncertain time, it was the perfect gift.

What perfect gift have you received?

Writing to Heal - Part II

“I feel as if I have healed myself with my own words. I am making myself well. Writing is my cure.”  ~ Carole Buvoso (diarist, writer, director)

The above quote reflects my sentiments about writing, especially during my leukemia treatment period. I was writing to heal/cure myself, so when I designed my journal writing workshop for cancer survivors, I named it Writing for Your Life, because I felt I was indeed writing for my life.

In a workshop last fall, one of the writing exercises I assigned was to write about "an unresolved issue or a person who has hurt you whom you need to forgive." One of my participants had brought her laptop with her because she found it easier to record her thoughts and feelings this way. I suspect, like me, her brain kicks into overdrive and it is easier to keep up with her thoughts via a keyboard than with a pen. I could hear and see her clicking forcefully away on the keys, indicating to me that there was purpose and intensity to what she was typing.

Once the exercise was finished, she leaned back in her chair, ran her fingers through her hair and exclaimed, “Wow, you are right, that was cathartic!” I smiled. I have always found writing to be emotionally cathartic, though curiously, that is one benefit of expressive writing that Professor James A. Pennebaker and other researchers have found little evidence of, unlike the evidence of physical benefits such as reducing stress and blood pressure, decreased pain and increased health in cancer patients, fewer days in the hospital, improved mood and cognitive function as well as improved liver and lung function, to name a few.

Perhaps it is more difficult to assess or measure the emotional health benefits of expressive writing, but I read and hear from writers (of journals and blogs) all the time about how writing is an effective means of dealing with emotional stress. I’ve experienced it in my writing for years. Sometimes it takes as little as one time to write about a hurtful or stressful event and I feel infinitely better; then at other times I may have to write about a topic for months, as the issue surfaces repeatedly, disturbing my emotional equilibrium.

I found myself many years ago over a three month period writing constantly about a manager who made me feel insecure and incompetent. I would leave the office every evening seething with resentment. I felt I could do nothing right. Finally, after months of writing about my frustration and anger, it hit me: I must stop taking this personally. This person behaves this way with everyone, and he doesn’t even realize it. Finally, when I started standing up for myself and pushing back, our relationship began to change. My manager was unaware of how his actions were impacting me adversely. Admittedly, I allowed him to negatively affect me, which is something I know I have control over. However, until he was made aware of how I felt, he couldn’t make the necessary changes and I couldn’t expect him to—he’s not a mind reader.

I am a big believer that people treat us the way we allow them to treat us. Writing exposed the lack of confidence I possessed to stand up for myself, and how I was allowing someone else to adversely affect my emotional well-being. Furthermore, I examined how he behaved with everyone, not just me, and discovered this was not personal, that he did not hate me. Writing provided me a way to vent my frustrations and anger without having to involve another human being…though I must admit I did do a little of that, too. I'm all about expression—written or verbal.

I have used my blog as a journal as well. As referenced in my March 24 post, I recently came upon the article, “Writing to OvercomeTrauma,” on the Military Officers Association of America website. It discusses how soldiers in Afghanistan (or in any overseas mission) use blogging to “take control of their emotions.” Army National Guard Capt. Benjamin Tupper says it has played a part in his PTSD recovery. The article further states that writing is a common outlet for service members and veterans dealing with traumatic and stressful experiences. One of the largest blogging sites by American service members, MilBlogging.com, listed 2,763 military blogs in 44 countries, as of October 2010.

For cancer survivors, some blogging communities can be found on the following sites: Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, American Cancer Society Cancer Survivor’s Network and CaringBridge. To find other topics organized around blogging communities, I suggest using Google search.

Obviously, I am a big proponent of writing as a means to heal both emotionally and physically. For more information on the healing benefits of expressive writing, you can read my recent article, “Journaling Through Cancer” in the March/April issue of Coping with Cancer magazine or my book Rebirth provides a practical example of how I used writing to heal during my cancer treatment and recovery period. All you need is a pen and a notebook to get started. Happy healing!

Journaling Through Cancer

My article, "Journaling Through Cancer," is in the Mar/Apr 2011 issue of Coping® with Cancer magazine.

Excerpt from article:

Numerous studies have confirmed that expressive writing produces health benefits, such as a strengthened immune system, increased lung and liver function, increased cognitive function, reduced stress and blood pressure, improved mood, decreased symptoms of arthritis and asthma, and increased well-being in cancer survivors. Furthermore, it doesn’t matter if the writing topic is positive or negative. Healing benefits are derived as long as you involve the emotions. Therefore, journaling is a wonderful self-therapy tool, though not a substitute for professional help, if necessary.

Read the entire article here.

My Lanford Wilson Tribute

With Michael Morehead and Lanford Wilson, reception at Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park (May 2001)

Rarely is an actor on my level presented with the opportunity to work directly with or perform for a playwright she greatly admires. I fell in love with Lanford Wilson’s work when I auditioned for the role of Sally Talley in his Pulitzer-Prize winning play, Talley’s Folly, in college. The role went to an MFA student, but from that time on, I longed to tackle the role of Sally.

This audition ignited my desire to acquaint myself with Wilson's body of work, so I purchased many of his plays. I bought a hardback anthology of one-act plays when I was 27 and serendipitously discovered Wilson’s one-woman play, The Moonshot Tape, which was the last play in the book. I was riveted by this complex, deeply flawed, yet vulnerable character and longed for the chance to conquer her harrowing monologue (in performance it timed out to about 55 minutes).

The play revolves around Diane, a famous short-story writer who has returned to her hometown, Mountain Grove, MO, after a long absence to help her mother settle into a nursing home. While in Mountain Grove, she stays at a dumpy motel and is interviewed in her room by a high school reporter for the school paper. Jackie Demaline, theatre critic and writer for the Cincinnati Enquirer, summed up the story briefly in her critique of the show: “The eager, invisible interviewer has dutifully submitted a list of innocuous questions along the lines of “How has growing up in a small town prepared you for living in a large urban city, or not?” As Diane swills vodka and chain smokes, her stream-of-consciousness answers deepen into an outpouring that’s more than the kid bargained for.”

Diane - The Moonshot Tape

Ovation Theatre Company

Photo by Rich Sofranko

Diane's tough, devil-may-care attitude disguises deep emotional scars and resentment from years of sexual abuse at the hands of her stepfather and a longing to be loved and protected by a mother who didn’t know how to love or protect. The character is vastly different from me and my family experience which is what attracted me to her and is what made the character exciting to explore. Our similarities were grounded in being creative, small-town girls, longing to escape the confines of our rural communities. After reading The Moonshot Tape, I vowed that somehow, someday, somewhere I would play Diane. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to accomplish that, but I was committed to making it happen.

In 1997, as I was forming Ovation Theatre Company with my four partners (Lisa Hall Breithaupt, Scott Sponsler, Joe Stollenwerk, and Mark Sumpter), I was cast in the role of Sally Talley by Michael Morehead. Talley’s Folly was performed at Village Players, a community theatre in Ft. Thomas, Kentucky. The entire experience was wonderful—the beautiful story, working with two talented men: Mike and my leading man, Ed Cohen, and all the designers and technical crew. Before Talley’s Folly opened, I gave Mike a copy of The Moonshot Tape and told him that I wanted him to direct me in it someday.

With Ed Cohen in Talley's Folly

Village Players

Four years later, May of 2001, not only did Mike direct me in Moonshot Tape, but I had the privilege of doing it with Ovation Theatre Company, the company I’d helped create. Ovation staged four of Lanford Wilson’s one-act plays during the Lanford Wilson Theatre Festival. The following plays were also staged in Cincinnati during that time: Talley’s Folly by Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park (celebrating Lanford’s twentieth anniversary of receiving the Pulitzer Prize for that play), Sense of Place by Ensemble Theatre of Cincinnati, Redwood Curtain by Know Theatre Tribe and Burn This by IF Theatre Collective.

Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park hosted a reception, a few days before the opening of Talley’s Folly, for Lanford and his long-time collaborator and director of most of his shows, Marshall Mason. I met both men that evening which led to Lanford coming to Ovation’s warehouse to see my rehearsal (our show did not open until the following weekend, when Lanford would be back in New York). Marshall had told me that The Moonshot Tape was one of Lanford’s most personal pieces, so we should make sure to get him to a rehearsal; so we did. Thankfully, I was performance-ready. It was a private performance for him as well as a few select friends of Ovation.

I was terrified at first but quickly found my groove, alone there in the performance area. It was an amazing and exhilarating experience. Afterwards, Lanford gave me a huge hug and much praise, then even offered a few acting notes. It was a pivotal moment for me. Mr. Wilson’s praise was the validation I needed to find the courage to take the leap to pursue acting in the New York City market.

Ovation rehearsal space...after performing, getting notes from Lanford Wilson.

I will always be grateful for my encounter with him; he will never know what a positive influence he had on me. Unfortunately, I was never able to professionally capitalize on that moment, but I will forever treasure it.

One week ago, March 24, Lanford Wilson passed away from complications of pneumonia. He was only 73. There were wonderful tributes written in the New York Times and many other publications, but I felt compelled to write my own tribute to a man who helped change the trajectory of my life—giving me a much-needed boost of confidence.

Thanks for the inspiration, Lanford.

Corrections made 04/01/2011: Village Players is in Ft. Thomas, KY; I'd written Ft. Mitchell. The day of the reception has been brought into question, so I've changed that as well.

Writing to Heal - Part I

“Writing to heal” is a phrase and title of books, articles, and workshops I see repeatedly in my research about the health benefits of writing. I have personally experienced those healing benefits—emotional, spiritual, and physical—throughout my years of journaling, but especially during my cancer treatments from December 2003 through December 2004. (Five years later, my journal of that time became my book, Rebirth.)

When diagnosed with leukemia on December 18, 2003, I knew that my journaling would be an essential weapon in my healing arsenal. I used it to record all my medical information so that I could refer back to my notes should I have any questions or concerns; to assess the pros and cons of different treatment protocols; and to explore my emotions, which spanned the spectrum of fear, sadness, anger, joy, and hope. I wrote about dreams and goals and strategized plans for the future. I detailed my experiments using self-healing techniques such as guided imagery, affirmations, meditation, and prayer.

However, the greatest benefit came from mustering the courage to face past hurts and resentments, some that occurred decades ago that were still negatively affecting my life, mostly unconsciously. I was given many books about how biography can become biology, how holding onto past hurts and resentments can adversely affect our health. There is much research in this area, and though I’m not convinced I caused my leukemia, as a self-professed control-freak, this was a very empowering idea because if I made myself sick, then I could make myself well.

So I set out on, what I refer to as, the archeological dig into my past; much was uncovered. The entire essay, “I’m Enough,” is in Rebirth. Following is a brief excerpt:

Three childhood memories particularly stand out as contributing to my fractured ego: my best friend rejected me after she became a cheerleader, which translated in my mind to my no longer being popular or pretty enough to be her friend; a boy commented that my nose was big (I had no self-consciousness about my nose prior to that moment); and a friend’s grandmother gave me a backhanded compliment about how attractive I was at fifteen in spite of my “having been such a homely child” (I’d been homely?). These unkind actions and comments sparked the obsession with my appearance, which only intensified as I transitioned from grade school to high school. Reading fashion magazines and watching glamorous celebrities parading around on television made me achingly aware of my physical inadequacies. I longed to be one of the beautiful people and thus began a two-decade quest for the perfect makeover.

This quest included years of exercising, not out of the joy of moving my limbs and generating health but rather, to achieve a svelte, sculpted body. I failed at many diets because it was absurd for me to be on a diet in the first place.

Writing has always been an emotionally healing exercise for me, whether I was working through a conflict with a family member or friend, mending a broken heart, mourning the loss of a coveted role, or emotionally reeling from that tragic day on September 11, 2001. Writing was my emotional life-line through leukemia treatment and recovery. I named my journaling workshop for cancer survivors Writing for Your Life because during leukemia treatments I felt I was writing for my life. Furthermore, as my interest has grown in the field of writing and healing, I’ve discovered research conducted over the past two decades that support what I have experienced myself.

James W. Pennebaker, Professor of Psychology, at the University of Texas, Austin, is widely accepted as the father of successful studies of the effects of writing on health. Some of the health benefits that he and other researchers have found include: reduction of blood pressure and stress, strengthened immune system, improvement in cognitive functioning, improvement of mood, improved lung function and liver function, decreased symptoms in asthma and arthritis, decreased pain and increased health in cancer patients, and fewer days in the hospital.

Writing is not only a tool for navigating through a physical illness, but it can help a person deal with the emotional upheaval associated with a traumatic event. For instance, in October 2010 the Military Officers Association of America (MOAA) posted on their web site an article by Stephanie Rodrigues Melson, “Writing to Overcome Trauma,” that reveals how writing and blogging* have helped servicemen and women deal with the emotional and physical stressors of combat, or of working in a war zone, and how it is a form of therapy. MilBlogging.com, one of the largest blogging sites for American servicemembers, listed 2,136 military blogs in 44 countries as of October 2010.

I am a huge proponent of writing about one’s experiences, of transforming internal energy and thoughts into external expression. The healing benefits of expressive writing will be explored during my Creative Writing Workshop at the OMG! NYC 2011 4th Annual Cancer Summit for Young Adults on April 17. There will be a presentation followed by written exercises. As an added treat, Lisa Bernhard, journalist and co-host of The Stupid Cancer Show, will stop by to share her experiences with writing and healing. For information about the conference (April 16-17), visit OMG2011.org.

*James W. Pennebaker cautions that research on the benefits of writing have not included blogging.

If interested in reading more about this topic, check out Dr. Pennebaker’s article Writing to Heal.

Stay tuned for Part II…

Joan Goble – A Small Town Teacher with Global Reach

Photo: Dec. 28, 2010 - Mom's retirement party; Me, Joan Goble, and Mom (Nancy Ludwig)


“My little school system of Cannelton, Indiana, has not only given me the opportunity to see the world, but given me the tools and the support to share the world with my students!"  ~ Joan Goble



A blond-haired woman walked into the back room of the Perry County News office in Tell City, Indiana, where my mother’s retirement party was taking place on December 28. I recognized her instantly. It was Joan Goble whom I met at my book event/signing at the public library on December 19, 2009, and have since become friends. I smiled, she smiled and when we got to each other, hugged. Joan is a fellow cancer survivor; she has chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL).

March is Women’s History Month, so I wanted to profile at least one (of the many) women I admire. Joan was kind enough to answer some questions for me. Reading her answers, I discovered what an amazing, inspirational woman she truly is; I had no idea. She is a teacher—a transformational teacher who has implemented ways to inspire and challenge her students with innovative projects that have led to international collaboration opportunities and travel. She is not only an example of the kind of educator U.S students deserve, but also a reminder (to legislators and superintendents across the nation) that we cannot afford to lose teachers of her caliber.

INTERVIEW
Deborah: How long have you been teaching and what made you want to go into that profession?

Joan: I have been in the teaching profession now for 32 years. I have taught at Cannelton Elementary for 30. As a child growing up I was always in awe of my teachers. I totally respected them and wanted to please them. I had great teachers throughout my school years, and they inspired me. I felt that they made a difference in my life so I wanted to make a difference too. I had debated between going into the medical field or the teaching field. As a freshman in college I made the decision to become a teacher.

D: What grade do you teach now; in the past?

J: My first real job was substitute teaching for a year, all grades. That is how I landed my job at Cannelton Elementary. I had substituted quite a bit for Cannelton and when a job opened up that summer I was offered one. It was a third grade position. I held that position for 28 years. My school system is very small. We only have one class per grade, so I was THE third grade teacher at the Cannelton School System for those 28 years. I think third grade is such an exciting grade to teach. Children of that age are just starting to really think beyond their classroom and are so eager to learn.

When our school became an "online" school in 1996, I decided to start an after school media club. I began working with older students up to sixth grade. I found that I enjoyed working with them just as much. Then, two years ago the 5th grade teacher retired, and I asked if I could replace her. I did, and I totally enjoy it.

D: You teach in a very small community, how has that impacted you as a teacher with regards to the resources the Cannelton school system has?

J: I love teaching at Cannelton. I feel that even though we are small, we have made our voices heard. We Cannelton teachers all involve our parents and community in the education of our students. As in the old saying, "It takes a village to raise a child," I think that includes the education of children as well. Cannelton is very proud of its school system and so there has always been a lot of support. I have felt that first hand many times over the 30 years I have taught here. Any time my Media Club has needed support from the community it has been there 100 %. I know that we could not have achieved what we have without that support.

D: The population of the city of Cannelton was estimated as of July 2009 to be 1,130. How many students are in the school system?

J: Cannelton Elementary has one class per grade, and the average class size is around 20. The Junior/Senior High School is the same as far as size of classes. I am not exactly sure of the whole entire school system's size, but I would say it averages around 260 to 280 students, maybe more some years. (Joan was right about the size.)

D: You have developed several programs for your students. What are they and how did you go about implementing them?

J: Our school has had many programs set up for the students to get involved in. One program that our school was involved in that helped us to make a connection with other schools not only in Indiana, but nationally and even internationally, was the state program called The Buddy System. This program, beginning in the very early 90s, allowed our school to not only become an online school, but gave every student in grades 4-6 an online computer to use. It was the beginning of networking, and we were in on the ground floor for Indiana public schools. At that time I taught third grade, which was not a part of the program, but I benefited as well due to all of the teachers getting an online computer.

Then in the summer of 1996, I went to a summer class on using the Internet in the classroom and I was hooked. The following year I decided it would be nice if our school had a Media Club, so I started it that year. We mostly connected in online projects where we could collaborate with other schools.

Our first collaboration was with a school in Australia on a research project about trees and forests. That project has led to many connections with schools around the world. Unfortunately, the Buddy Project has lost state funding and is no longer around, but it definitely gave our school system a basis for future collaborative projects.

I am mostly a project-based teacher. I love to involve my students in active learning, so anytime I can involve them in a project where they can take ownership for the process, as well as the product, I go for it. Examples include many online projects/websites. There are many that are my favorites, but I will share a few here.

One that continues to this day to give us learning opportunities, and "fame" even, is "Our Wonderful Moon Tree." It is really involved, but in short it allowed us to make connections with NASA in paying tribute to Moon Trees, living monuments to the Apollo Space Program. It was also written about in a BBC article that also aired on BBC radio in 2005. Last month, the story appeared in USA Today. It mentions our school and our involvement in initiating the search for all of the Moon Trees.

Another project that helped us to broaden our horizons beyond Cannelton, beyond Indiana and even beyond our nation's borders, was TENAN: The Endangered Animals of the World web project. I worked with Rene de Vries, a teacher from the Netherlands, to create this project. Schools from all over the world were invited to research endangered animals from their regions and send in their reports for us to publish. TENAN was active from 1998 until May 2007. We had to end it for various reasons, mainly due to our schedules becoming too busy—not enough time to devote to keeping the project active. It broke both of our hearts, but we had to. However, we have kept it online because we feel it has been and continues to be a good resource for students.

One great opportunity that was a direct result of this project was when the United Nations Environmental Program contacted us (Rene and myself), inviting us to send a delegation of our students who worked on TENAN to the UNEP Millennium Children’s Conference on the Environment in May 2000. This is also an excellent example of how the community of Cannelton, and really all of Perry County, Indiana, supported us. We were able to raise enough money to send 9 students to this conference held in Eastbourne, England. Rene was able to send 11 of his students too. Not only was it a thrill to get to see England and meet students and teachers from nearly 100 countries, we were able to meet our partners in the project for the first time. We had worked for over two years on this project and finally students from each school could meet face to face!

Because of my work in online shared learning, collaborative projects, I have been given many opportunities to share what I have done and learned with teachers in Indiana, several states in the USA, and I have also traveled and presented in London and Brighton in England, Copenhagen, Denmark, several parts of Japan including Tokyo and Asahikawa, and even traveled and presented in Tianjin, China. My little school system of Cannelton, Indiana, has not only given me the opportunity to see the world, but given me the tools and the support to share the world with my students!

D: You also volunteer and are involved in your community outside the school?

J: Yes, I have been on our Perry County Museum board since 1998, a board member of the Perry County Animal Shelter since 2008 and am currently the Secretary. For ten years I was on the board of We the Youth of Perry County. I have served on various other county committees, most recently the committee for the 50th Anniversary Memorial Service (a wonderful event) of the 1960 Plane Crash.

D: You are a cancer survivor. How did you discover you had CLL and when?

J: The cancer was a shock...totally had no idea. I had gone to the doctor because my left leg was losing some muscle mass. Several doctors looked at it and some tests were ordered, then finally a CBC (Complete Blood Count) was done to see what that might show. There was no evidence of muscle damage in the blood, but it showed a critically high white blood cell count. I was then sent to a specialist (oncologist/hematologist) who did more blood tests and diagnosed me with early stage CLL. That was in late August 2009. I am in what is called the "watch and wait" stage—no treatments at the moment. Every four months I go back to the oncologist and he does a CBC, checks my lymph nodes, and asks questions to see what symptoms I may have.

D: How has that impacted your day-to-day life?

J: I would have to say mostly it has made me take better care of myself. I am more aware of my body and try to keep myself from getting sick. It is a challenge, since I work with children every day. I try to keep my stress level as low as I can, and I use (and have my students use) hand cleanser constantly to keep colds and flu at bay. I try to enjoy each day that I am well.

D: How is your support system?

J: My support system is great. First I have my family...my husband and my two children are very supportive, and patient! At home I can have my days when I just want to whine and feel sorry for myself and not worry about the consequences. I get it out of my system and no one at work or out and about is the wiser. (Well, until now that is...ha ha!)

At work I have much support as well. I have not told my students of my illness because I feel there is no need to worry them. I also have, of course, friends like you and the online friends I have found at the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, as well as a wonderful Facebook group, CLL (Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia).

I highly recommend to anyone with any kind of illness like this to find a group online to join. There is a lot of love and support out there, and it can be so comforting and reassuring to know that you are not alone in fighting the good fight!

My Love-Hate (Mostly Hate) Relationship with Auditions

Photo: Diane in The Moonshot Tape - Ovation Theatre Company
Photo credit: Rich Sofranko

Saturday, walking to One on One studios to attend a class with a television and film casting director, for one brief moment, I felt the urge to turn around and flee, to just blow off the class, even though I had paid $125 for the 90-minute session. I had spent the week preparing the scene and felt confident about my choices, yet a feeling of dread hung over me. I am much more comfortable these days than I’ve ever been in the past when auditioning, yet there remains a slight twinge of fear—fear of completely messing up, fear of making a fool of myself, fear of not being as good as the other actors in the room.

Fear—hate it. Yet despite the fear, I forged forward. The last time I attended one of these classes, it went very well. What I like about attending class at One on One is that all the actors are talented. There isn’t an obvious gap between the beginners and the pros, mostly because the One on One staff screen actors (audition and interview are required) before allowing them to become members, then a one-time membership fee must be paid.

I arrived a few minutes early. The class size was small—eight of us. The casting director had a very warm personality and she gave us excellent feedback on our work. We each got up and performed our scene on-camera (with a reader) and then were given adjustments before doing the scene again.

These classes and meetings are ways for me to introduce myself to industry people, and since I do not have a legit agent, it behooves me to meet as many casting people as possible, especially those who are casting television series and movies because that is where my real interests lie. These sessions are also a way to stretch myself and take risks with the character choices I make.

Taking risks is scary, but it is in the very taking of those risks that we grow and discover what we are truly capable of doing. After each small victory, we become increasingly confident to attempt something even scarier. A couple examples from my life of when baby steps led to accomplishing larger goals were performing a one-hour, one-woman play and writing and singing cabaret.

The confidence to perform solo began with being cast in leading roles. There was Vera Claythorne, in Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians in 1994 followed by Rita Boyle in Prelude to a Kiss in 1995. Then came the opportunity to perform in two-person shows: the first (and one of my favorites) as Sally Talley in Talley’s Folly and then with my dear friend Lisa in Ovation Theatre Company’s (the company we founded with three other friends) inaugural production, a two-woman play titled Parallel Lives: The Kathy & Mo Show. In that show, I braved a harrowing monologue that was nearly 10-minutes long. That monologue provided me the experience of commanding the stage myself—no one else was there to save me should I forget a line or lose my train of thought.

Then in May 2001, a dream came true; a spark of creative desire ignited eight years earlier suddenly became reality: The opportunity to play my dream role, Diane in Lanford Wilson’s The Moonshot Tape, was going to happen. This one-woman, one-act dared me to own the stage for fifty-five minutes. It was the scariest yet most exhilarating challenge I’ve undertaken to date. Other challenges coming in at a close second are publishing my book, Rebirth, and performing cabaret shows.

The cabaret performances started their evolution years before the actual ones took place. I auditioned for some musicals after my first year in Cincinnati and was cast in Godspell (I sang a solo), My Fair Lady and Working (in the chorus), Annie as Grace Farrell (one solo and some duets; I wanted the role of Ms. Hannigan desperately, but that role went to Lisa, who is mentioned above) and finally Into the Woods as the Witch, the most amazing musical role I have ever worked on (bestowed upon me by, you guessed it, Lisa). That role cemented my confidence as a singer and my longing for further singing opportunities.

I’d always loved the old standards and felt drawn to the music of Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, Rosemary Clooney, and Peggy Lee, to name a few. One evening, while my friend Robin and I were at The Cabaret, a small club located in Over-the-Rhine, just north of downtown Cincinnati, I mustered the courage to sing, while the singer booked for the evening was on break. I requested the accompanist play Linda Ronstadt’s version of Someone to Watch Over Me. I was quite nervous but made it through the song beautifully, not one weak note or crack in my voice. When I returned to my seat, a gentleman at the next table asked me if I was going to sing again. I told him no; but from that moment, I was hooked.

So over the next year, I booked a couple performances at The Cabaret, where I sang two short sets during each performance. Finally, I decided to expand to a larger venue, Upstairs at Carol’s, and with the help of some of my genius marketing friends – Karen, Nelson and Lori—drew some sizable crowds and expanded my show to include three sets of music. My last cabaret performance was in Cincinnati in 2002 with my friend Joe. I did the first set, he sang the second set, and we performed the third one together.

So with these achievements under my belt, why am I not doing those things here and now in New York City? Granted, I have been less than enthusiastic taking the initiative to make contacts and pursue jobs the way I should, lacking the intensity that I see in other actors; or developing my own projects the way I did in the past. Excuses are plentiful: “I went through cancer, then I wrote a book (and I love writing, too, so I do that on a regular basis), I am a volunteer with the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and have developed a journaling workshop for cancer survivors and caregivers. My life is extremely full. I have myriad interests, so my focus is all over the place.” Still, I long for those meaty, leading performance opportunities of yesteryear.

It's not that I haven't worked in acting since 2002 because I have. I've done stage, commercials, and independent films, but for a couple of exceptions, not at the level I had hoped to work. It’s now or never time to up my game—time to meet as many casting directors as possible, submit myself for all projects of interest, and seriously network with other actors. I'm even writing a cabaret performance for possible staging this fall.

In this insane business, I’m largely responsible for my progress, or lack thereof; I get in my own way. I must say yes to more auditions, even if I’m not overly excited about them. For example yesterday, I had an audition for a low-paying commercial. The audition was an open call, which I hate—I prefer to have a scheduled appointment. To top it off, I was submitted for the role of a person battling incontinence. (Oh how quickly one goes from being the young mom to the incontinence sufferer!)

Surprisingly, I had a blast in the audition—it was funny material and the casting director loved me. Here was a chance to meet a casting director as well as practice auditioning and making interesting choices with the copy. Each experience should be about learning something useful for future auditions, expanding what I am capable of doing, and building confidence. The casting session I approached with a negative attitude, ended up being quite a wonderful experience; just like on Saturday when I was feeling less than enthusiastic about my class, yet it was great. I even received a response from her after I sent her an email thank you on Monday. That has never happened.

Maybe things are looking up. Regardless, I’m trying to adjust my attitude and see every audition as a chance to perform because then maybe I won’t hate them so much. I’ll keep putting myself out there, taking chances, even at the risk of falling flat on my face. No risk, no reward—that’s what I’ve consistently discovered over the past fifteen years. My love-hate relationship with auditions will not end immediately, but I hope soon to feel more love for them than hate.

What do you have a love-hate relationship with? What is holding you back in achieving your goals?

Thank you, Sylvia Plath

The third Writing for Your Life workshop for cancer survivors concluded Monday evening. This one posed some challenges as we canceled once due to inclement weather and another time due to a death in my family. The group was smaller than usual though it was supposed to be the largest to date. I even gave a one-on-one session the evening of January 24, so the usual group dynamic was lacking. I felt bad for the participants because they missed out on the camaraderie and support inherent in a larger group. Still, I believe what I had to share was of value—and healing.

Writing has been an essential tool for healing my emotional and spiritual wounds ever since I commenced journaling in 1992. For nearly two decades my journals have been constant companions, seeing me through romantic vicissitudes, career struggles, moves to various cities, extraordinary achievements, moments of deep sorrow and conflict, and my leukemia treatment and recovery period, to name a few.

In 1992, during my years at Indiana University studying theatre, I was cast in the role of Aurelia Schober Plath in the play Letters Home. (At age 26, I was cast as a 67-year-old woman* – only in a college environment or community theater would that happen.) The play was adapted from the book Letters Home, a compilation of poet Sylvia Plath’s letters to her mother (Aurelia) from the time she left for Smith College in 1952 until she committed suicide in 1963. This full-length play was the first time I performed a two-person show. I had minimal onstage experience but was determined to prove I was more than capable of tackling the role.

Thrilled to be cast, I enthusiastically dove into my research, reading the book, Letters Home, in its entirety and hungry for information, devouring any other resource materials I could get my hands on. One day in the book store I discovered The Journals of Sylvia Plath, a small paperback that cost $6.95. This inexpensive gem further illuminated Sylvia’s life and the relationship with her mother.

I was mesmerized by Sylvia’s prose and the way she utilized language to describe and convey every nuance of her surroundings and people, her torment trying to compose the perfect poem, her fragile emotional states (they were many) when rejected by publishers or lovers, her distress when anyone criticized her work, her vacillation between bliss and despair during romantic affairs, especially her desire for fellow poet, Ted Hughes, whom she eventually married. She adored him, but a few years later, they separated. The discovery of Sylvia’s rich, intense inner life and how she recorded it all in elaborate detail intrigued me, so I decided to begin my own writing journey.

A few days later, I purchased my first journal and used it to jot down thoughts and ideas I had for creating the role of Aurelia. The picture on the cover of that journal was Georges Seurat’s pointillist masterpiece Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. Having an almost-minor in art history, I knew this painting well and thought it was gorgeous, so I scooped up the journal and paid for it. A white ribbon marker was attached to it, which would later prove to be an accomplice in the slow unraveling of a five-year relationship. (Darn those page markers, but that’s another story.)

I share an excerpt from that first entry here:

June 9, 1992 (Tuesday) - Since I have been studying Sylvia Plath’s life—reading her letters, poetry, and journals—the desire to record my feelings and the events in my life has intensified. The way she expresses herself and the eloquent language she uses, composing impeccably structured sentences and possessing an extensive vocabulary sparks a bit of jealousy in me, for I’ve always thought writing a story, play, or a novel would be so gratifying.

Doing this play has me totally consumed with knowing Sylvia, even though I play her mother, Aurelia. But what better way to portray a mother than by knowing her daughter intimately? Sylvia’s life (as well as Aurelia’s) was fascinating, and I feel extremely fortunate to have this opportunity. Tomorrow I start memorizing Act II.

Throughout the years, I have used my journal in various ways:

• To record events in my life—the good and the bad;
• To set goals and strategize ways to achieve them;
• To deal with and work through challenges and issues; it has been an excellent problem-solving tool;
• For exploring my emotional life; clarifying thoughts and feelings;
• To brainstorm creative ideas, whether for acting, directing, singing or writing—or whatever;
• To record inspirational quotes and passages and write about why these touched me or resonated with me;
• To preserve letters (copies) that I wrote or that I received (originals);
• To record news events that would provide historical context for posterity’s sake.

These are only a few examples of how I use my journals. I have completed twenty-one journals to date, and all of them have proved to be effective tools for self-discovery and providing insight. They are a place where I can pour my thoughts out onto the page when I feel unable to talk to anyone about what it is I’m feeling or going through, especially late at night when I refuse to impose on anyone. The journal is my friend—an accepting, nonjudgmental companion.

As I prepare for upcoming journaling workshops, I plan to include posts in The Feisty Liberal about the healing benefits of journaling or expressive writing, types of journaling, tips for journaling, resistance and blocks to writing, and writing prompts and resources for anyone interested in starting or expanding their own writing journey.

I owe a huge thank you to Sylvia Plath. Her creativity, zest for life, and passion for the written word as well as how she honestly and fearlessly confronted raw emotions are what inspired me to start a journal and to continue journaling throughout the years.

If you keep a journal, who or what inspired you to start? When? Where? I’d like to know.

* I am unable to verify Aurelia's age in the play, but this is the number that sticks in my mind.

Death of a Loved-One Sparks Introspection and Wonder

My Uncle Al, 77, passed away on January 26 after two months of fighting side effects from a “uniquely effective, but uniquely toxic” medication, Amiodarone. Amiodarone is an antiarrhythmic medication that affects the rhythm of heartbeats. He was hospitalized for weeks (including over the Christmas holiday) then transferred to rehab as his health seemed to improve, but eventually found himself back in the hospital sicker than before. In the end, his quickly deteriorating condition, aggravated by internal bleeding in his lungs, was more than his body and spirit could bear.

Once notified of his passing, I started discussing travel arrangements with my sister Barbara who lives in New Jersey, too, and we booked flights for last Saturday from Newark International to Dayton, Ohio. Barbara secured a rental car at Dayton International and she, her four-year-old-daughter, Alexa, and I drove to Cincinnati to stay with our other sister, Karen, and her family. Mom and Dad arrived the next day, so Karen had a full house (she had insisted we all stay at her home).

We drove to Centerville together on Sunday afternoon to attend the visitation. A look of pleasant surprise lit up my cousin Tracy’s face the moment we walked in the room. He, his brother, Mike, and their mother, Aunt Addie, had no idea that Barbara and I would be flying in from New Jersey. I wasn’t sure I would be able to go due to the price of flights as well as possible inclement weather, but both the transportation and weather gods pulled it off without a hitch.

Both days, Sunday for the visitation at the funeral home, and Monday for the funeral at the church and the military internment at Dayton National Cemetery was quite emotional, especially moments when I witnessed my aunt and my cousins and their families shedding tears. Uncle Al was a gentle and compassionate man. I can’t recall him ever raising his voice. Growing up, all the cousins on my dad’s side of the family were very close. Each Easter when Grandma Lucy was still alive, we would gather together for an early dinner and afterwards play a game of kickball or softball; later, my dad would get out his guitar and all us kids would sing along while he played.

This past weekend further reinforced how extremely blessed I am, not only to have my immediate family, but also my extended one. What an amazing group of people. All this made me think of the complete randomness of my even being on this planet at this exact point in time; it sparked many thoughts about evolution.

How the Earth Was Made is one of my favorite History Channel shows – I bought the two- hour DVD a couple years ago, I liked it so much. 4.5 billion years is the generally agreed-upon age of the Earth by the scientific community. This is what they refer to as “deep time.” As I watched it last week (the History Channel aired it again), I started contemplating the concept of time, especially how it only exists once we arrive on this planet, or rather, once we are conscious of it. Think about the billions of years that have transpired before those of us currently living on this planet arrived. It’s awe-inspiring.

I know that my wonderful life is in large part due to the time when and the place where I was born, as well as to the parents who created me. I was born in 1966, a white female, in a small town in the Midwestern United States, to loving parents who struggled day after day to make sure their children had a better life than they did. I hit the jackpot in life compared to so many others in this world.

What if I had been born in a place where hunger and disease are part of one's daily existence or in a country where women are property and honor killings are par for the course if they do anything to bring shame on their families – even if they are the victim of rape? How different my life would be. The trajectory of our lives is largely, though definitely not completely, determined by the circumstances in which we start out.

Life and death are inextricably linked. Once we are born, the only guarantee is that someday we will die. What we do between birth and death is what counts, regardless of our circumstances; yet, we can always offer compassion to those who are less fortunate than us. One of Uncle Al’s virtues was a kind, compassionate heart.

The silver lining of attending a funeral is that you get to reconnect with family. It’s a mournful occasion, yet a celebration of the deceased’s life. We will miss Uncle Al, but the memory of his smile and the positive way he touched all our lives will endure. I am a better person for knowing him. Rest in peace, Uncle Al.

Rally for Girls' Sports!

The National Women’s Law Center is rallying today to support girls’ athletics. They asked bloggers to write about their involvement in sports and how it positively affected their lives. The question they asked: What did you win by playing sports? The following is an excerpt from The Accidental Feminist, an essay I wrote that was to be included in a friend’s anthology about feminism. Although she abandoned the project a couple years ago, I’m glad to be able to share a portion of my essay in this post.

What did I win by playing sports?
My journey starts with Title IX. Title IX of the Educational Amendments of 1972 states: No person in the U.S. shall, on the basis of sex be excluded from participation in, or denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any educational program or activity receiving federal aid. Athletics has created the most controversy regarding Title IX, but its gains in education and academics are notable, as more and more women are receiving post-graduate and professional degrees. Before Title IX, many schools refused to admit women or enforced strict limits.

I was six years old when Title IX became law. I had no idea that it even existed until I was in college; or that it was largely due to this that I was able to be a junior high and high school athlete; or that I was allowed the same opportunities to participate in athletics as the boys in my school. I’m not even sure I was aware that sports participation for girls in schools had been an issue at the time. What I did know was that I loved competing. And until I reached the age of ten, I could beat almost every boy in my class in sprints. That did change some once I was in high school, yet I managed to claim the girl’s track MVP title all four years. My sisters excelled in athletics, too. In fact, I recall my father telling me at one time that the high school football coach told him that he wished we three girls were boys.

Title IX paved the way for young girls to actively participate in organized sports, which I believe builds strength, confidence, and an eagerness to engage in competition, not shy away from it. We compete every day, in one way or another. Sometimes we win and sometimes we lose, but I believe this about competition: When you lose, you pick yourself up and try again. This attitude has helped me to overcome obstacles and persevere in the face of tragedy. I face rejection constantly as an actress, but I have developed a thick skin (though admittedly, not as thick as I’d like). I know that if I attend enough auditions, I’m going to book jobs, so I keep doing it. I am a cancer survivor, and I wholeheartedly believe my competitive (or perhaps my fighting) spirit and the refusal to give up helped me regain my health.

The opportunity to compete empowers you to believe you can meet the goals you set. Because I was able to compete with members of the opposite sex at a young age, and then able to compete like them in the sports arena, I always felt women were as valuable as men. I was as competent, as smart, and as capable of accomplishing and doing anything they could. And so, my first foray into actively pursuing equal opportunities, where I saw girls blatantly excluded, occurred during my eighth grade year at St. Paul’s Catholic Grade School in Tell City, Indiana.

St. Paul’s housed grades K–8. Part of that Catholic education included attending Mass once a week during the school day. At that time, all the acolytes were boys. When I was in eighth grade, my friend Mariah and I decided that we wanted the opportunity to be altar servers, so we asked Father David Coats if we could do this. We felt that it was unfair that the boys could participate in the service this way and we couldn’t. Father Coats, being well ahead of his time, agreed that we should be able to serve. His decision caused quite the uproar.

The boys in our class were terribly upset that we would dare infiltrate their male domain, so much so that they called a meeting about it, which Mariah and I attended. In the end, we were allowed to serve. Mariah and I were the first girl servers at our church. After that, several other girls decided they wanted to try it, too. I only served once or twice, and that was during the school week, not during weekend Mass, but we’d made our point, and we were satisfied. Today, I’m encouraged because wherever I attend Mass, I often see girl servers, which perhaps will be an impetus for change (hopefully sooner rather than later) in the Catholic Church regarding women’s ordainment as priests. But that discussion is for a different essay.

Title IX allowed me to discover my potential, not just as an athlete, but also as a human being. Participating and excelling in athletics prepared me for dealing with and conquering life’s challenges and gave me the confidence to live life on my terms and to follow some of my dreams, no matter how unrealistic they may seem to others or how scary they may be to me.

Ladies, how has participation in athletics positively impacted your life?

Get Swabbed!

 “Get swabbed!” was the directive printed on all the promotional materials for the DKMS and Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) bone marrow donor drive held today (September 25) at Beth Israel Medical Center in Manhattan.  I knew I wanted to volunteer to work this event the moment I received the email inquiry for volunteers from the LLS. As a blood cancer survivor who was lucky enough to have had a sibling bone marrow donor, I am acutely aware of the patients who are not so fortunate.

I was one of the volunteers situated at the information tables—the first area where potential donors stopped before being tested. Our job was to make sure they were not already in the registry, that they met certain criteria, and that they understood both methods for donating bone marrow: the peripheral blood stem cell (PBSC) draw (approximately 70-80% of collections are performed this way) and the bone marrow extraction (approximately 20-30% of collections are performed this way).

We also had to inform them that they would be on the registry until age 61 and that they are donating to any searching patient who matches their tissue type. After visiting our table, they proceeded to registration and testing. Testing involved swabbing the inside of both their cheeks with cotton-tipped swabs. These swabs will be sent to a lab for HLA testing and entered into the Be The Match Registry (operated by the National Marrow Donor Program (NMDP)). Donor data is entered in anonymous form and all information is confidential.

Per the NMDP, only 3 out of every 10 patients will receive a transplant that could save their lives. I was so inspired by those who showed up today, and especially pleased at the number of black and Hispanic people who were there, because it is these populations that are sorely underrepresented in the registry.

I encourage all of you to get swabbed; be a bone marrow donor.  This afternoon, a young woman who works for DKMS said, “Imagine if everyone in this country were in the registry.” Yes, imagine! If I could, I would be in the registry, but I’ve had cancer, so I cannot; though that is not true for all cancers, as there are exceptions: cervical, breast, and bladder (stage o) and cured skin cancer.

If interested in becoming a bone marrow donor, or if you want to help in some way, here are some ideas per the DKMS brochure:

1. Sign up to be a bone marrow donor online
2. Donate $65.00 to sponsor a donor (I did this today) – DKMS is a National Donor Center. DKMS does not charge the $65.00 registration fee, so they rely on the generosity of supporters – every dollar counts!
3. Organize a bone marrow drive in your community, at your office or school
4. Encourage family members and friends to register with DKMS (I’m doing this right now – hint, hint)
5. Help DKMS raise funds by holding an event, raffle, etc. in your community

Those who know me, and are familiar with my history, understand how much the work of DKMS, Be The Match, the LLS and other cancer organizations means to me. Again, I encourage you to consider becoming a bone marrow donor. You never know whose life you may save, and to them, your generosity and courage will mean the world; you will be their hero. I guarantee it! 

Writing For Your Life: Journal Writing Workshop for Cancer Survivors

The next Writing for Your Life workshop is scheduled!

Dates: 5 Sessions EVERY Tuesday evening
• May 4
• May 11
• May 18
• May 25
• June 1

Time: 6:30 p.m. – 8:30 p.m.

Location: The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society
475 Park Avenue South, 8th Floor
New York, NY 10016

The Goal of Writing for Your Life
To use writing as a means to empower the cancer patient during diagnosis, treatment, and recovery by:
1.) Coming to terms with your illness
2.) Exploring your emotional life and any difficult issues with which you may be struggling
3.) Formulating ideas for living fully in the present, while fighting cancer
4.) Devising strategies that will aid in the healing of mind, body, and spirit
5.) Clarifying and outlining your hopes for the future
 
Caregivers are welcome to attend, as well.
 
To register please contact:
Maria Feeney at 212-376-4770 or maria.feeney@lls.org