Becoming Conscious

NOTE: Much of what I address in this blog is from Eckhart Tolle’s book The Power of NOW  (Excellent book about this topic; I highly recommend it.)

This post is written for my Writing for Your Life workshop participants because there is a huge snowstorm today (a blizzard warning, in fact), so we canceled tonight’s session. (However, I hope anyone who reads it enjoys it and learns something.) For the workshop, I prepared a discussion about living more fully in the present. Carol, Iesha, Joel, Laura, and Becki, I want you to know that in preparing for this workshop over the past two weeks, I have been motivated to once again begin meditating regularly and to refocus on being aware of my behaviors and reactions. I thank you for this motivation. 

Awareness is the Key to Living in the Present

It was the usual morning stampede through the subway to get to work. Hoards of seemingly unhappy individuals were making their way up and down the stairs and escalators, bumping into each other. As I stepped off the last escalator and into the 42nd Street corridor of Grand Central station, a large man stepped on the back of my heel causing my shoe to come off and me to stumble. He didn’t acknowledge me, he just kept going; not one word of “Excuse me” or “I’m sorry.” ‘Really?’ I thought, ‘how rude.’

I continued walking through Grand Central to the underground corridor that leads me to 48th Street, right where my office is located. The sad part is that during most of that walk, I spent it raging internally at this man for his rude and careless behavior. An intense monologue, sometimes even a dialogue with him, was being created as to how I would berate him. Finally, I took a deep breath and realized what I was doing; I became conscious of my harmful thoughts, thoughts that could only hurt me. I would never see this person again, so all I was doing was allowing his bad behavior to affect the quality of my life and disturb my emotional equanimity. I was giving another person power over how I felt and thus, removing myself from the present moment and dealing with a past action that truly had no bearing on anything in my life. So, I let it go.

Awareness is probably the most important element to being in the NOW or living fully in the present moment. In The Power of NOW, Eckhart Tolle writes that if you are experiencing anxiety, worry and unease, there is too much future focus; if you are experiencing guilt, bitterness and resentment, there is too much past focus. By focusing on the present, we can alleviate many of these harmful emotions. We can cope with the present, but we cannot cope with the future because it is illusory; it is only in our minds. Another way of avoiding the NOW is the barrage of thoughts the mind creates on a daily basis.

Most people have relentless chatter running through their minds; they never stop thinking. These thoughts are mostly about what they imagine will happen in the future or about past events and situations. The ego has a lot to do with this. It demands our attention; it identifies with external things like possessions, careers, social status, physical appearance, relationships, belief systems, religious, political and racial identifications, etc. And because it identifies with these things, it constantly needs to be "fed and defended."

These externalities are not you; they are your life situation. The ego can never get enough, so it continually demands more. This is why when you reach a certain income level, or get a promotion, or get that new car, you are happy for a brief time, but then the ego wants something more – the next big thing. This is also true of peoples’ problems. Some people are so attached to their problems, even their illnesses, that it becomes who they are. They may not like their situation, but they are comfortable with it; it is familiar. And the ego hates change.

Tolle says that: “once you are aware of this dysfunction, you can step out of it, you become present; and when present, you can allow the mind to be as it “is” and not get entangled in it.” This will allow you to function more effectively and calmly, with less drama in your life. To overcome the ego, he suggests that the next time you find yourself getting defensive about something to ask yourself: What is it that I’m defending?

He further gives some examples of how we avoid the NOW:

1.       Complaining – complaining is non-acceptance of what “is.” Once you can accept a situation, you can deal more effectively with it. Acceptance does not mean you agree with it or like it, just that you accept what it “is.” Once you have accepted the situation you have three choices: remove yourself from it, change it, or accept it. Then accept the consequences.   
2.       Are you waiting to start living? Are you postponing something until you get that raise, the kids are in college, you buy that new home, you take that next trip, or you get married? If so, you are missing the present moment. Tolle suggests in this situation to switch your thinking to: what are you grateful for NOW in your current life situation and experiences? The NOW is where prosperity lies.
3.       Negativity – any kind of negativity is resistance to the now. And while there is negativity, use it to your advantage—as an opportunity to become more aware. Notice negativity in your life; don’t let it overtake your thoughts and emotions. You have control over this.

Lastly (and I think this is one of Tolle’s best suggestions), when you find yourself in an unpleasant situation, focus not on the 100 things you will or may have to do at some point in the future, but rather on the one thing you can do now. By doing this, you bring yourself into the present and you avoid being overwhelmed by so many tasks that may lead to inaction.

When I was going through cancer treatments, I read many books on being present, meditation, gratitude, and all of it was beneficial to me. In fact, at that time, I was more centered, calm and content than I ever was before or have been since. Much loss of that centeredness is definitely due to being out in the world interacting with others, not sequestered as I was during my illness; yet a good deal of it is due to the fact that as the leukemia experience recedes further into the past, I have gotten away from the meditation and awareness exercises that I regularly practiced during that time. I am now trying to reconnect with those practices.

I warn all who have the courage to start an “awareness regimen” that it is tiring. You will discover how often you react negatively to situations or engage in behaviors that aren’t so nice, but it will help you to change those behaviors and will definitely make you more conscious of the present moment. I discovered the benefits of it years ago. And while I am not as aware as I was in 2004 and 2005, I am much more aware, or conscious, than I was prior to cancer. To me, awareness is the most important way to become more present in your life and enjoy it more.

The NOW is all we have. The past is gone; the future has not arrived. No one is guaranteed tomorrow, so live for NOW.

(If interested in reading more about my exploration of "living in the present", see the May 3, 2004 entry.)

Writing for Your Life

A Journal Writing Workshop for Cancer Survivors


I am a huge proponent of journal writing; I’ve been doing it since 1992. So when I was diagnosed with leukemia in December 2003, I knew my journal would be my constant companion. I recorded information and daily events, processed my emotions, and explored my past, in particular, how holding on to old hurts and resentments may have contributed to my illness.

After four rounds of high-dose chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant, I was on the road to recovery. In January 2008, I was unemployed for two weeks and spent much of that time revising the manuscript for my book, Rebirth: A Leukemia Survivor’s Journal of Healing during Chemotherapy, Bone Marrow Transplant, and Recovery. I had also recently become a volunteer with the New York City chapter of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS). As I was working on my book, it hit me that perhaps I could implement a journal writing workshop for cancer patients. Journaling had been an effective tool in my healing arsenal, so, I thought why not share it with others?

Inspired, I began to jot down ideas and within a few hours had produced an outline of a program I thought could be quite effective. A couple months later, I presented a workshop proposal to Meg Harrison, Patient Services Manager, at the LLS’s NYC chapter. She thought it was a great idea, but nothing transpired from that encounter.

My belief never waivered that one day the workshop would become a reality. So later that year, I approached Renee Stein Goetz, a social worker whom I knew from my time being treated for leukemia at Hackensack University Medical Center (HUMC), to see if anyone there might be interested in a journal writing workshop. I met with Renee, and in 2009 conducted two workshops at HUMC, one with a breast cancer survivor group (in January) and the second with a stem cell transplant survivor group (in May).

These were actually more like discussions as opposed to workshops. In the breast cancer group, we talked about the journaling process and different ways to journal. They were an inquisitive bunch who contributed many ideas that sparked much lively conversation. The stem cell transplant group was more subdued, yet attentive. They had the opportunity to complete one writing exercise, and most particpants shared with the group what they'd written.

These two journaling programs made me realize more time would be necessary to hold an effective journal writing workshop, so I made some adjustments. Then in August 2009, I received a call from Meg asking me if I was still interested in conducting my journaling workshop. Of course, I was! So now, two years after envisioning it, my first workshop series commences on January 13, 2010.

I decided to name the workshop Writing for Your Life, because upon reflection of my own life—even before cancer—I’d literally been writing for my life: planning and strategizing goals, processing emotions, and recording events, etc.The goal of Writing for Your Life is to use writing as a means to empower the cancer patient/survivor 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

Workshop details:
Dates:
5 Sessions on Wednesday evenings
• January 13 and 27
• February 10 and 24
• March 10

Time: 6:30 p.m. – 8:30 p.m.

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

Although this workshop is held at the LLS office, it is open to all cancer survivors. If you, or anyone you know, may be interested, please contact Maria Feeney at the LLS at 212-376-4770 or maria.feeney@lls.org. If you have specific questions, you may contact me at deborah@deborahludwig.com.

Check out Dr. Regina Huelsenbeck's blog: Rituals of Healing

Rebirth: A Leukemia Survivor's Journal of Healing during Chemotherapy, Bone Marrow Transplant, and Recovery is featured on Dr. Huelsenbeck's blog. She is a cancer survivor; at age 19 she was diagnosed with lymphoma. Her cancer experience led her to pursue a career in psycho-oncology/therapy.

Please take a moment to visit not only her blog, but her entire site. It is filled with information, healing resources, and inspiration.

                                                                                                                   

Congratulations. You did it!

‘Congratulations. You did it!’ read the silver balloon I carried out of Dr. Goldberg’s office today. I had just completed my five-year oncology follow-up. My CBC results looked great—white blood cell, red blood cell, and platelet counts all within the normal ranges. I am now able to get life insurance; federal law guarantees that cancer survivors cannot be discriminated against when looking for life insurance after 5 years of being cancer-free. In a few days, the proof will arrive in the mail in the form of the letter Dr. Goldberg was dictating when I left. Best of all, I can now officially declare: I am cured!

A swirl of emotions churned inside of me as I took that last walk down the familiar hallway and out the Cancer Center's door. Before I left the examining room, I gave Dr. Goldberg a signed copy of Rebirth and told him how much I appreciated everything he'd done for me and how blessed I am to have had him as my doctor. He was always honest with me, yet compassionate; he listened to and answered all my questions without ever getting defensive or impatient; over the years, he answered every e-mail I sent to him, whether it was a question about my health or my book; and he wrote the foreword to Rebirth. I gave him two big hugs and thanked him. “You’re welcome,” he replied; then added, “Days like today are why we do what we do.” I’m a success story. Hell, I’m a miracle.

I walked out with Renee, a social worker at HUMC whom I’ve gotten to know well over the past year, as I’ve been meeting with patients preparing for or going through stem cell/bone marrow transplantation and trying to get my journal writing workshop for cancer patients started. As we talked, tears welled up in my eyes and the words caught in my throat. I’ve waited so long for this day to come, and yet the experience doesn’t feel all that far in the past. I can’t even explain why I was tearing up except, perhaps, I could finally, at last, breathe an enormous sigh of relief—I'd made it to that coveted five-year mark.

Before I left the hospital, I went to the Stem Cell Transplant Center and spent some time with two brave women—both mothers, both struggling through complications after stem cell transplantation. I listened, shared parts of my story that may prove helpful to them, and gave encouragement. Both were grateful for my having spent some time with them; for patients, it gives so much hope to see someone who has been where they are and is now on the other side of cancer. (I definitely felt that way back in 2004 when I spoke with those who were several years cancer-free.) And these interactions, meeting these survivors are just as beneficial and inspirational to me. They are a reminder of what I went through, which further strengthens my dedication to helping cancer survivors and working toward the eradication of this insidious disease.

Five years – yay! I did it!

With Cancer Survivorship Comes Great Responsibility

It hit me yesterday, perhaps harder than ever, that my having survived cancer nearly five years ago requires that I live boldly, sharing my God-given talents to help make the world, if only a small portion of it, a better place. I was sifting through e-mails and received one from my cousin Cindy who has a friend whose sister passed away last Saturday after a relapse of cancer—she’d had leukemia. Cindy had told me about this a couple of weeks ago and asked for any advice or information I could share, especially regarding clinical trials. The woman had been in remission from the leukemia but when the cancer came back, it had spread to her liver.

As I read Cindy’s e-mail, I once again realized how extremely fortunate I have been. There is no justice or reason in the randomness of who dies or survives illness, whatever their age; and sometimes survivor’s guilt surfaces. We know we are all going to die, but we expect, and hope, it will be later rather than sooner. So when I read stories of young people passing away before their time, it makes me achingly aware that none of us is guaranteed tomorrow, that we should make the most of each day, be truly present in the company of our loved ones, and do what we enjoy and have passion for in life.

We must stop postponing dreams and goals, thinking we have all the time in the world: I’ll do it when I have more money, when I’m older, when my kids are grown, when I’ve learned more or gained more experience. How many excuses can we devise to remain stuck in our current existence? Familiarity can breed stagnation. Many times we remain stagnant because the familiar is a comfortable place in which to reside, even if we are unhappy, discontented, and the realization of—or even first steps toward—unfulfilled dreams remain dormant and far off in the distance.

Since my cancer diagnosis, I have tried to live my life more daringly and manifest my dreams by taking the appropriate actions. And I have accomplished some of these goals—the most exciting one was writing my book, Rebirth, which was written with the intention to help, encourage, and inspire patients going through cancer. The prospect of the book being completed and available to help anyone in need has been very fulfilling, and I can envision my message widely spread throughout the country. However, now that the book is ready to make its debut, I feel some trepidation. What if it’s not good enough? What if it is criticized? Well, I ask myself, “What if this does happen?” Whatever happens, I know I will be fine.

When I set out to author this book it was with the intention of helping others, and it will only be able to do that if it is out in the world. Furthermore, if Rebirth helps even one person, then I've accomplished my goal. What I must remember is that I was given creative gifts: the ability to act, to write, to speak, all injected with a good deal of compassion to boot. As someone who vowed to make a difference in the world and to be a braver person if I made it through my cancer battle, it would be a betrayal to not keep that vow. So it is with this intention in mind that I march onward to promote my book and achieve all the creative goals I’ve set regardless of the outcome.

As a cancer survivor, it is my responsibility to make sure that I not only give back to the people who so generously helped me through that terrible ordeal, but also to give forward to other cancer patients and survivors, or anyone going through a difficult time. But perhaps more importantly, is the responsibility to hold myself accountable for the dreams and goals I set that could have disappeared along with my life had I died from the leukemia. And in a way, that may be the biggest responsibility of all—keeping the promises I made to myself. For how can I possibly encourage others to muster the audacity to take flight, spread their wings, and soar into the unknown if I lack the nerve to do it myself?

Goals and Dreams Become Reality

A book published; a journal writing workshop for cancer patients developed and being piloted; a Web site completed by January 31, 2009. These are goals I put into motion over the past five years, one year, and six months respectively, that have now come to fruition. This is not the first time in my life that I’ve written down goals and accomplished them. Sometimes goals are achieved quickly; other times, they’ve taken nearly a decade; and then there are those yet to be attained.

To spark others toward acting on their dreams and goals, one suggestion I give is to write them down (which is what I do). I believe the written word transports creative energy out into the universe, manifesting those words as concrete results. Writing is also a means of holding oneself accountable. If you write down goals and dreams, they seem more real, and you’re now committed to accomplishing them and sticking with them through the challenges, of which there are oftentimes many.

This does not mean if you truly lose interest in your previously specified pursuit, you should slog onward; there is no joy in drudgery. In fact, if you find yourself struggling over a long period of time, you are no longer receiving personal fulfillment, and you have to force yourself to do the work, at this point, it is best to release these dreams and goals. It’s now time to discover new ones.

However, if your struggle is fleeting, and you find yourself periodically vacillating between periods of frustration and inspiration, persevere long enough to see if any progress is being made. As long as you see incremental progress, regardless of how small, you will stay excited about pursuing your dreams and goals. These baby steps will eventually transform into something spectacular.

My first couple weeks of 2009 have been pretty amazing. I’m full of positive energy, and I am excited to see how the year continues to unfold. Happy New Year and cheers!

National Cancer Survivors Day with Women Conquering Cancer

June 1, 2008
I celebrated the four year anniversary of my bone marrow transplant on June 1, which was also National Cancer Survivors Day. I had no clue that June 1 was National Cancer Survivors Day when I had my bone marrow transplant on June 1, 2004. This year I spent June 1 representing the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society in Brooklyn, New York, at a cancer survivor event sponsored by Women Conquering Cancer.

Per the event brochure, Women Conquering Cancer was founded by Sister Khaleelah Shabazz, who is also a cancer survivor, in 2005 under the name “Sisters Coping with Cancer.” On January 17, 2007, they were granted not-for-profit status and changed their name to what it is today. Most of the group’s members are of African-Caribbean American descent and are Muslims, Christians, and people of other faiths. Khaleelah Shabazz was the chair of the event and the woman to whom I reported.

I arrived at Akbar Hall in Brooklyn around noon, and Khaleelah directed me to the table assigned to the LLS. I began arranging brochures and booklets that the LLS had sent in advance on the large, round, wooden table. I discovered upon my arrival that I was to be a speaker as well. The woman from the American Cancer Society had canceled, so a replacement was needed. I was thrilled, but because I’d been given no advanced notice, I had to organize the table quickly, then sit down and compile notes for my brief overview of the LLS, its services, and my work as a volunteer.

As I began writing, a six-year old girl named Saidah approached my table and discovered a stack of activity books for children (provided by the LLS) and asked if she could have one. I told her she absolutely could. She then asked if I had some crayons. I did not but I gave her a pencil, which seemed to suffice. After that she returned to my table frequently, and we ended up playing together a bit. She had found a red balloon and was having fun blowing it up, and then we’d take turns releasing the air onto each other. She found this very amusing, and I thought she was quite adorable.

Between moments of interacting with this darling but precocious child, I worked on my notes. Being my four year anniversary of bone marrow transplant, I decided to share that milestone after my greeting, and then relay information to the audience about the LLS, its history, mission, services, and programs. After my speech, I garnered positive responses from several members of the audience, and I believe they appreciated knowing that I too was a cancer survivor because it connected us. It is truly fulfilling to know you’ve touched people’s lives or helped them in some way, and I didn’t even share my story – only a tiny portion of it: the BMT anniversary.

Because the majority of attendees were Muslim, prayers and greetings were given in Arabic, yet they were mindful and inclusive of those of us from different religious and ethnic backgrounds. At the end of the day, Shaikh Abdu Rashid led the Hour Father after saying an Islamic prayer.

After the event, I spoke with Sharif, an ex-police officer, who shared with me his experience working at ground Zero after September 11. It must have absolutely horrific. What I saw on my television in Cincinnati was a highly sanitized version of events. Sharif saw the blood and gore up close, on the front lines. We talked about tragic events being life-changing moments, and he thanked me for being involved in their cancer survivor day celebration.

Somehow our conversation turned to the topic of peace and acceptance in our world, and I told him that I believe we all want the same things: that we and our families are happy, healthy, and safe, and that our world sustains us. I believe we need to focus on the similarities of our goals, as opposed to the differences. I’ve said repeatedly that it is people’s focus on their differences that divide us and prevent us from confronting tough issues, thus further engendering feelings of separateness. In order to be able to see each other as equals, with similar desires, this separateness must be eliminated, otherwise, the perception of “otherness” remains and finding common ground, or compromise, is nearly impossible.

I have a handful of black and Hispanic friends, but the majority of my close relationships are within my own race. At the NFL, I work with people from all ethnic, racial, and cultural backgrounds, which is one of the positives of being employed there. I try to take advantage of the diversity to learn more about others and their backgrounds.

Participating in the Women Conquering Cancer event forced me out of my comfort zone because I was one of two Caucasians in attendance. This was an opportunity to place myself in a situation where I was not surrounded by people with the same racial, ethnic, or religious affiliation, and it was eye-opening; yet, it was a bit uncomfortable, too, when a council member began speaking about politics and his support of Barack Obama and then disparaging Hillary Clinton.

As a Clinton supporter, I was a bit offended, and I felt this type of proselytizing was inappropriate at this event, which should have focused on cancer survivors, maintained a highly positive and inspirational tone, and disseminated information relative to cancer, cancer prevention, and cancer survival. I feel this event should only have been politicized to the extent that it was relevant to the cancer survivor’s experience and the raising of capital and the passage of legislation for research to find cures for cancer. But obviously, the councilman felt the conveyance of his message was important to this particular audience, so I sat there and restrained myself from reacting to rhetoric with which I disagreed. However, I was open-minded enough to listen and to even agree with some of what he said.

The community was very warm and welcoming toward me. I hope, and would be honored, to have the opportunity to speak at some of Women Conquering Cancer’s Health Forums, which begin in the fall. I think it is important to reach across cultures and religions in order to recognize and embrace each other’s humanity. We’re less likely to harm those with whom we identify, but rather, show compassion. It is when we do not identify with or understand others that people are objectified, viewed as second-class citizens, or worse, seen as less than human, and then atrocities can occur: bombings, genocide, torture, and all sorts of other crimes.

June 1 was a special day that lingers in my mind, even fifty-two days afterwards. My afternoon spent with Women Conquering Cancer made me realize how similar we are despite skin color or ideology. Kindness, acceptance, openness, and willingness to work together can help us achieve great things. Cancer makes no distinction between race, religion, or ethnicity; it is an equal opportunity disease, so the fight against cancer is definitely one cause in which we can agree to forge alliances in order to make progress. And perhaps in finding this common ground and working together in the health field, we will discover other common goals to improve and transform our world into a more prosperous, safe, and peaceful place for all its inhabitants.

And the total is...

The final total for my Mother's Day Tea Fundraiser for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society is $2,540.00!! Thanks to all who contributed; we surpassed my goal by 254%.

Three years now…

It has been three years since my bone marrow transplant, and even though it seems like a long time ago, I remember it as if it were yesterday. Etched in my memory are: the smell of the hospital room, Karen waltzing into the room right as the doctor was getting ready to infuse the marrow into me, the intense scratchy feeling in my throat caused by the preservatives in the blood, and Karen and Karen B sitting next to me, supporting me, willing my body to accept Barbara’s stem cells.

It was a scary time; it was a sad time; but mostly it was a time of hope. Those four weeks (after I’d already spent a week in the hospital) were the longest weeks of my life. And at least one week’s memories have been lost due to all the medications given to me the second week to alleviate my physical pain.

Three years later, I have just been cast in the lead female role in an independent film, Twists of Fate, which begins filming in July, I have shot two commercials, am actively auditioning, taking acting classes, working at the NFL as a long-term temp (since June 2005), have completed my first fundraiser for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (exceeding my goal by 251%!), ready to publish Rebirth: A Leukemia Journal, may have a piece published in a feminist anthology my friend Adele is working on, and my friends and family are well and healthy. But probably the most joy I’ve experienced over the past three years involve my kids—my nephews and nieces. Aidan is four, Andrew is almost three, Grace is two, and Alexa is one. Another nephew, Nate, will arrive in October.

When I am around the children I never stop laughing – well, okay sometimes when Aidan and Andrew are kicking the crap out of each other I’m not so jovial. But overall they bring so much joy to my life. I see Aidan, Andrew, and Alexa every two to three weeks – I just can’t stay away. It is sad that Grace lives so far away, so I only see her on rare occasions, and we don’t have the opportunity to really build a bond (like I have with Barbara’s children). That doesn’t mean I love her any less though.

Falling in love—or at least dating someone I am really attracted to—remains the most elusive dream for me to realize. I still can’t seem to connect with anyone. It is the same story: they’re attracted to me, I’m not to them; I’m attracted to them, they’re not to me. I am trying to keep visualizing what I want as opposed to what I don’t want in a relationship. I tried match.com for six months and was going to cancel after my six months, but then thought it was pretty silly not to take advantage of the guarantee (if you don’t find someone within six months, you get six months free). So I’m retaining my membership for six more months, and afterwards will probably not renew it. This is really not the ideal medium for me to meet quality men, and I’ve been skeptical from the start. I need to be out living my life and meeting people doing the things I love—dancing, volunteering, acting.

Life is good, but I must admit that I do worry about little aches and pains, especially those that linger for a while. For instance, I had pretty severe pain in my upper left thigh last winter for about five months, but it eventually went away. I’ve had some minor throat pain for about a month now (not a sore throat, but pain in my upper throat area under my chin). I have been saying affirmations and prayers and using positive thinking to help alleviate the pain, and if it is something more severe, to eradicate it from my system. I’m not ready to see a doctor about it just yet. However, if it continues to persist, I will need to make a doctor’s appointment.

Well, it is a summer Friday at the NFL, it is about 2:00 pm and I’m hoping to leave soon. I have a go-see for a print job for Chartered Accountants and then I’m meeting Joe. He has been in New York for a conference this past week and is staying with me this evening. He will be my first overnight guest since I moved into my apartment last June.

I have much to celebrate – it is another birthday. Biologically I’m forty-one, but blood-wise I’m three!

Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Mother's Day Tea Fundraiser

As of today, I have raised $2,515.00 for the LLS. This is my first fundraising effort for the Society. I feel blessed to have had so many people help me to signifianctly exceed my $1,000.00 goal. Tomorrow is my three year rebirthday. I will have much to write tomorrow. For now, I feel fortunate to be able to live my life and reach for my goals: I recently shot a commercial for Holy Spirit Health Systems and have been cast in a lead role (Lee) in the independent movie, Twists of Fate. We begin shooting in July.

Thanks to everyone who helped in my fundraising effort! God bless.

Dark Days…

Some days you wish you had just curled up beneath the bed covers and disappeared for the next twenty-four hours. I don’t have many bad days, but today was kind of unsettling. I don’t know if the lady in the elevator, who has completely clueless about the concept of personal space, set my annoyance in motion, or if being referred to as “Glat’s assistant” by a VP, who damn well knows my name (he’s known me for two years), sparked my ire. Both occurrences happened this morning. It seems almost inevitable that if the day begins badly, it continues on that trajectory. Do other unpleasant or frustrating events keep manifesting because of the negative attitude one keeps holding onto once these feelings arise?

Oftentimes I feel guilty for being testy, impatient, or angry. I had cancer, I’ve dealt with very serious life and death issues, and so I should be able to effortlessly rise above petty annoyances, impatience-inducing situations, and all the dreadful news stories. For instance, daily, I read the news, I listen to it, I watch it; I am freaking inundated with news and therefore, all the tragedy, unkindness, injustice, and corruption in the world overwhelm my compassionate and docile nature.

We live in a world where onlookers stand by and watch a seventeen-year-old girl being stoned to death by four men—they make no attempt to save her life, but they sure as hell can record the incident on their cell phones. We live in a world where people get some perverted pleasure watching dogs fight to the death, ripping viciously at each others’ flesh. We reside in a world where parents will put a baby in a microwave, and where holier-than-thou-do-gooders want rape and incest victims to carry an unwanted pregnancy to term, living with the reminder of their attacker’s brutality for nine months. These are all stories I’ve been reading about over the past week. I cannot comprehend this callous disregard for life, and yes, I’m referring to life already existing on this planet.

Helplessness and sadness blankets me, smothering all positive feelings I may possess when I read about or hear of these stories. So, after the above incidents happened and then reading these news articles, I decided to leave for my audition, thinking that the sunshine and a warm breeze would transform my mood.

I stepped out of 280 Park and headed toward the subway. A gentle breeze caressed my skin, my hair blew softly, and the warmth penetrated my white jacket. I love the brightness, clear skies, and warmth of a spring day. Yet once I arrived at the subway, the V train was pulling away. I waited for two E trains to pass before another V train arrived. It took me an hour to get to 21st Street from 53rd. Then once at the audition, there were twenty-five plus people ahead of me, and the auditors were conducting five-minute interviews. At this rate, I’d be there for two more hours. I just didn’t have the patience to wait that long for a $350 job. So, I scratched my name off the list and left. Of course, on the way back to the office, at the subway, I had to wait for two F trains before a V arrived. See? It was one of those days when even the little things—like catching a subway train—don’t go your way.

I really try to maintain a positive attitude, but the constant effort gets exhausting. I think we need to allow ourselves to experience our frustration, anger, or sadness. I believe that sometimes the positive-attitude mantra is crap, and all I long to do is wallow in my misery and anger because that anger empowers me. However, that being said, I don’t stay in this disgruntled state too long because, by nature, I am a positive, optimistic person who believes that our thoughts create our reality.

Yet it is unrealistic to be positive all the time, and anyone who claims to be is a liar. I don’t enjoy calling people liars, but sometimes these purveyors of positive thinking can make us feel lacking in conviction or inadequate when we have lapses in this positive frame of mind. Positive-thinking fatigue sets in and then what I really want to do is throw myself on the floor, fists pounding it, and scream.

Boy, it feels really good to write this. I am actually smiling right now. I think my day just turned around. A little bit of negativity can be good if it is used as a learning tool. By grappling with these feelings and trying to understand them, I have cleared my mind and released muscle tension. I can begin anew. It is 3:28 in the afternoon and I can start afresh—no need to wait until tomorrow. I breathe in and out, calm my thoughts, and let my fingers move leisurely over this keyboard on which I’m typing. I feel centered.

So my friends, embrace your anger, experience it, and then let it go so that you can once again work on the positive aspects of your life. And don’t judge yourself too harshly; I’m not. Just because I survived cancer and learned many lessons, doesn’t mean I’ve overcome all the imperfections that make me human; I still battle them and will continue to do so. The key is to know when to experience negative emotions and when to send them on their way. This knowledge keeps me on track to receive all the good in my life and, regardless of all the tragedy and injustice inherent in it, the world too.

Maintaining Equanimity During Romantic Vicissitudes

I find myself these days continually trying to remember the lessons I learned during my illness, but I am finding as I get further away from the experience, I am forgetting, or ignoring, many of them. How to remember? It’s a matter of reflecting on that time and thinking about being present in the moment, valuing my life, not taking for granted my family and friends, focusing on the gifts present in my life, as opposed to what is absent, and trying to remain calm and compassionate in aggravating circumstances.

One aggravating situation is my current romantic status, or rather, lack of a romantic status. Men have always baffled me, and even after committing to readjusting my attitude, I continue to be perplexed by the male species. As women, we analyze everything. My goal is to eliminate this analyzation from my female brain, especially when it pertains to men. For instance, I recently had one of the best dates in years. And those who know me know that I do not date often. I am quite selective, and after the RM debacle back in 1999, I have a pretty good sense of myself—dignity, what I won’t tolerate, how I expect to be treated, and being in touch with my emotions in relation to a guy with whom I may be involved (is he a crazy-maker or a dream-maker?).

This date I went on recently was with a gentleman I met at a callback audition. We were paired together and spent much of the time talking as we waited in the hallway. He gave me his card (twice) and then when I left, told me he’d like to hear from me. Cool, I thought. I walked back to the office, smiling the whole way.

I e-mailed him the next day to ask about the audition and to inquire if he had booked the job (he was one of the guys they consistently called back into the room). I typed my cell phone number under my name, and within five minutes he called me. We had a very engaging, light-hearted conversation and tried to figure out when we could get together. We eventually settled on the following Wednesday after work.

The date was incredible. We met at the W Hotel, where we had drinks. We spent four hours together. We interacted physically (he even kissed me a few times—on the lips), talked about so much, and when we left the hotel, we held hands on the trek to Grand Central Station. He accompanied me to the Shuttle, and there, gave me an amazing good-night kiss. I was one of those people that I pass and think, ‘puh-lease, get a room.’ But, it’s different when you’re the one being kissed, right? Talk about walking on air…this guy was a dream-maker!

He called the next morning, and unfortunately, I was away from my desk, getting ready to head out to an audition. I retrieved the message and e-mailed him quickly before I left to let him know I had received his message and would call him later in the day. I returned his call around 4:30 that afternoon, which was my first opportunity to do so and left a voicemail message. After that he went AWOL for the weekend.

I knew he was supposed to be spending some time with his daughter, but you’d think he could take five minutes to call and say hi. I was a bit confused. I know I wasn’t imagining the chemistry between us, nor was I imagining a connection. So what had happened? Who the
%#$^ knows!

I did hear from him Monday, we had an e-mail exchange (uh-oh he’s reverted to e-mail), which was rather fun and flirty, wrote about getting together on a non-school night, and when I said I had plans Saturday but Friday was open, I didn’t hear from him again until Friday, at which point he had the audacity to e-mail me (there’s the e-mailing again – can’t he pick up the phone?) to let me know he had a doctor’s appointment in West Chester that he’d forgotten about, so he wouldn’t be in the city later. Like he thought I’d still be available to see him even if he had been in the city? I was astounded by his inconsideration of waiting until Friday to contact me as well as by his lack of nerve for sending an e-mail message in lieu of a phone call, so I didn’t respond…until Monday.

I know, you’re probably thinking: for someone who is trying not to put too much thought into this, she is putting a great deal of thought into it. Well, you’re right. But I am processing this so that I can really scrutinize his actions—and share these with my girl and guy friends—so that women can recognize inappropriate actions in their so-called relationships, and men can see the type of behavior that they should avoid if they don’t want to be thought of as jerks.

Fast forward to Monday…we had another e-mail exchange but still no mention of getting together again. I was only working that day, and leaving for Indiana for a week on Tuesday. After his 3rd e-mail response, I didn’t respond. I left for Indiana and didn’t check e-mail again until a week later. When I did check e-mail, there was a message from him dated March 6 and at the end of it he writes: we should go out again and have some fun.

Okay, I think, I’ll give him a chance to redeem himself. I e-mailed him back and wrote: call me if you want to go out. To his credit, the next day he actually picked up the phone. We spoke, and again, it was a crazy week for him: a commercial shoot later that day, a daughter commitment Wednesday, and a print shoot another day. I attended a Manà concert with Beckie at Madison Square Garden on Thursday, and Friday, as of 2:37PM, I had not heard from him. I had already set plans on Wednesday with my friend Karen Culp for Friday night, deciding that I wasn’t going to hold my schedule open for a guy I barely knew, and who obviously didn’t give a damn about my time.

It’s infuriating. And there are even more tales of other men’s inconsistent, idiotic, and immature behavior that I could share, but I’ll spare the reader those details. I hate sounding like a shrew, and I want to maintain a positive attitude about men, but I consistently meet guys who are flakes, and what does that say about me? I thought this was the perfect guy for me. He seemed emotionally available, open, funny, intelligent, attractive, and family-oriented. He was a business person with a creative edge.

I recently read two books that have really lit a fire under me when it comes to how I want to be treated by men. Those two books are He’s Just not That Into You by Greg Berhandt and Why Men Love Bitches by Sherry Argov (In Ms. Argov's book bitches are not mean, nasty, nagging women, but rather women with confidence and dignity who will not accept bad behavior from men, and when a man does behave inappropriately she lets him know in a kind, subtle, yet effective way that he has crossed the line.)

To my credit, much of what is discussed in these books is pretty much how I am and how I think. Although, what has been helpful are the insights into men’s behavior that essentially pares it all down to the fact that if a guy is behaving badly (not calling, taking you for granted, not dating you, not sleeping with you, etc…) he’s just not that into you, so don’t waste your precious time on this dude, move on. This simplicity is really quite liberating. As much as I might like this man and wish it could have been different, the truth is if this is how he is treating me before we’ve even started dating, how will he treat me in the future? And of course, I won’t let him get away with this conduct for long. So, I am not going to contact him. If he does contact me from this point on, I’m basically going to let him know that his behavior is unacceptable to me. And I expect to be treated with respect, I don’t care how busy he is or how many daughter commitments he has (and I’m a very kid-friendly gal).

If he wants to have any kind of relationship with me, he’ll need to modify and improve his communication skills. However, it is apparent to me that he is just not that into me, and so, I’m releasing him; no contact. This is where the lessons from my cancer come to aid me—if I allow them to. When I think back on the entire experience, I found renewed respect for myself and value and appreciation for my mind and body. I beat cancer; I am an amazing woman and any man would be damn lucky to have me. But, he has to deserve me – that’s the key.

I’ve spent too much time thinking about this guy, and I hate that. I’m supposed to be the independent woman who doesn’t need a man. Well, I don’t need one, but I’d kind of like to have one. However, self-respect and being treated well is important to me. I deserve someone who can’t stop thinking about me, who wants to be with me, who wants to see me, and who will take the time to contact me—even if only for a minute to say hi and we’ll touch base in a day or two about making plans. As my brother-in-law Dan told me: When Barbara and I started dating, we went out on our first date and then saw each other for thirteen nights straight before she left for Frankfort for a year. He’s right. That’s what it should look like.

I intend to feel balanced while in the throes of the excitement of a new romance, but perhaps that is impossible. Still, I know it should not be an emotional rollercoaster of delight and despair, especially at the beginning, when it should be effortless and uncomplicated. I intend to live a balanced emotional life, but it takes consistent, diligent work.

Breathing is one good way for me to center myself, bring myself back to the present moment in order to appreciate and celebrate what I have. Right now I have a job at the National Football League, working with some very good, intelligent, and interesting people, and these people respect my work, I have a lovely apartment that is relatively affordable, my parents, sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces and nephews brighten my life like no others, I have some of the best friends in the world, I am healthy, I am working toward creative goals, and I am able to walk around this city, being pelted by the snow and sleet falling from the sky right now. Experiencing life, the moments, focusing on the positive, not the negative, is what I must continue to do. That’s what we all need to do to maintain equanimity in a world that sometimes, actually more often than we’d like, throws curve balls that knock us off balance.

There was one positive aspect of meeting this man which was that I discovered that I was still capable of being truly excited about a guy. It’s been so long that I’d nearly forgotten that feeling, which is why I really wanted and hoped it would work out. But alas, it didn’t. However, being the eternal optimist that I am, I remain hopeful that I will meet the right guy, but for now, I am going to enjoy my afternoon here at the NFL (yes, I’m writing this at my desk, but I haven’t any work to do at the moment) and then meet Karen Culp for a couple of drinks later. I truly enjoy a night out with a good friend. At least for now, I have my girlfriends, and they, I can depend on. I’m breathing…

Using Setbacks to Grow

The last time I wrote an entry was in January. At that time I promised to update this blog more often. Obviously, that didn’t happen. I’ve been so busy, life has been very full, many opportunities have presented themselves, and thus, the year has flown by.

I have been working with a talent manager since April, and recently, have been getting holds and call backs and booked my first principal, non-speaking role in a commercial. A casting director has also taken me under her wing, giving me feedback on auditions when I have them at her agency. I enrolled in a couple of her commercial technique classes, and after these classes is when I started receiving callbacks, holds, and the commercial booking. Both of these people have been a huge help to me this year, and I am eternally grateful—they took a chance on me when few others would.

I also finished my book Rebirth: A Leukemia Journal. A little over two months after meeting with Carolyn French at Fifi Oscard, I finally completed the book proposal that she had requested. I mailed it November 28th. My acting teacher had referred me to her, so it was nice to have this “in.” However, this past Saturday, December 9, I got on-line at home and saw a message from Carolyn’s assistant. I knew it was bad news, and it was. Here is the message:

Dear Deborah,I'm afraid we have some unfortunate news that means we will be unable to take on your book. Since we met with you, a client has submitted a revision of a book whose subject material conflicts with yours. Because we must honor our commitment to previously signed clients before taking on new ones, we must pass on REBIRTH.We're very sorry and wish you the best with finding an agent to represent this heart-wrenching piece of work.Best,Nancy BeardAssistant to Carolyn French

I am a bit perplexed by this because when I met with Carolyn she gave no indication that any client of hers was writing a book similar to mine. In fact, she made a point of telling me that she didn’t place these types of books and would have to do some research. I also received my returned book proposal on Saturday; it was returned to me unread, or so it appeared. It looked as though nothing in the folder had been touched. It was returned to me in less than two weeks time, so there is no way it could have been read, with the volume of proposals they receive. All of this is very disappointing.

Still, I want to use this setback as a means of growth. One positive from it is that I have learned how to write and have written a book proposal, and I think it’s a darn good one. Another positive is that I had considered self-publishing the book while Carolyn was looking for a publisher (if, in fact, she decided it was a work worth backing). Now I can go ahead and self-publish it, without anyone’s approval, and get it out there to help the people who need it, rather than waiting six months or longer to see if a mainstream publisher picks it up. I now have control over it again. So, even though the quick rejection was/is disappointing, I am trying to focus on what I learned from the experience and how it can be a positive force for moving the book forward. Obviously, Fifi Oscard is not the agency with whom I should be working.

In the meantime, Dr. Goldberg, my oncologist, is writing a foreword to the book and reviewing it for any medical inaccuracies. What a lovely man to do this for me! So, now I will decide which self-publishing company to use, cut the manuscript again—try to get it to 300 pages (it was previously cut from 489 to 400 pages), make any revisions Dr. Goldberg deems necessary, and then, hopefully, self-publish it in February.

I refuse to let setbacks get me down. Commercial auditions I had last week that looked promising, did not pan out for me. Ah, well, that is life. I will continue to work toward my goals, and trust that I am doing what I am doing because God has instilled a passion and talent in me for these goals, and I refuse to let that passion and talent go to waste. I have seen the fruits of my labor this year and I will continue to see it. My goals may not transpire on my desired schedule, but I have faith that they will happen.

In the meantime, I have another writing project in the works: contributing to a feminist anthology that my friend, Adele, is working on. My essay is titled: The Accidental Feminist. There will always be that taking three steps forward and two steps back, but I’ll be darned if I allow those two steps back to hinder me. I am thankful that I was wise enough to look for the gifts that my having had leukemia presented. The disease made me re-evaluate much of my life and how I approach obstacles. I’ve always been an optimist and I suppose I always will be. I did allow myself to cry for about fifteen minutes on Saturday after I received the returned book proposal (that appeared to be unread). Then a song crept into my mind and I found myself singing the words: “nothing's impossible I have found, for when my chin is on the ground, I pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again.” (Pick Yourself Up, lyrics by Natalie Cole)

It's been a long time since I last wrote. It is now January 2006, and I feel the need to post an update on my progress.

I am currently working a long-term temporary assignment at the NFL in Manhattan. I commute four hours a day. I've been doing this weekdays since June 27, 2005. I enjoy working at the NFL, the people are very nice, and the environment, though corporate, is a creative one. I work in the Corporate Development office, which has its hands in most of the other departments at the NFL, and so I get to meet many people.

I have been working on my book and it is progressing nicely. The manuscript is written and all the research is currently being incorporated into it. Once that is done, I will make one last read-through to make final revisions (I've made numerous revisions to date but find that the manuscript can always be improved upon).

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, for whom I've been doing volunteer work, has asked me to be the Honored Teammate for the Northern New Jersey chapter's spring Team in Training (TNT). Participants train to run or walk a marathon, cycle 100 miles, or complete a triathlon. Team in Training is the signature fundraising program for the LLS. My job is to keep the participants motivated as they compete in my honor. I am thrilled to have this opportunity.

Other ways I've been working with the LLS are as a First Connection Volunteer and as part of the Advocacy Network. I plan to extend my volunteer work, as time permits, once I've moved into my own place, closer to the city and shorten my commute time.

Yes, it's time to move on. I've remained at Barbara and Dan's home far too long, but it is expensive in this area of the country, so I'm trying to make sure my financial house is somewhat in order before venturing out on my own again. I do have to be out of their home by May because Barbara will be giving birth to a baby girl around that time.

And don't think that I have given up my dream of making a living as an actress because I haven't. It has only been put on hold while I get myself organized. Before jumping back into acting, I'd like to complete my book. However, I've definitely been making plans for my return to pursuing my dream. I did do one day of background work on the CBS series, LOVE MONKEY, in November. They've called me three additional times to do background work, and unfortunately, I had to turn them down.

Anyway, right now life is good. My last doctor's visit was January 6th and all my blood counts looked great. My next visit isn't until March 31st. It's hard to believe sometimes that it has been over two years since my diagnosis; time has passed quickly. However, it is all still very clear in my mind. I hope that once I have completed my book, I can let it go and move on to helping others. I'll never forget the experience, but I don't want it to define me—except as a survivor!

March 22 , 2005
April 1st will mark 10 months since my bone marrow transplant. The event seems so far away and yet it also seems like it happened yesterday. I remember it all so vividly.

I am currently working on my book and have started temping. I worked four days over the past week at the National Football League corporate offices located on Park Avenue in Manhattan. It's a wonderful group of people with whom I work. Working at the NFL must be a dream come true for the guys employed there and probably for some of the women, too (I don't want to be sexist ;-) I've even enjoyed the two-hour commute....

I'm feeling good although I still seem to tire easily and have some generalized pain throughout my body, but nothing specific or of lengthy duration to complain about. Medications are still taken on a daily basis, doctor appointments are once a month, and there is still some tingling in my toes (which is most likely permanent because the chemo can damage nerve endings and they rarely repair completely). Overall I am doing well and am confident that I will continue to improve.

June 1st is my first re-birthday and at that point another bone marrow aspiration will be performed and the cells analyzed. The first set of vaccinations will be administered, as well. The transplant most likely wiped out any immunizations I previously had, so I must be vaccinated again—baby shots. The remaining vaccinations will be administered at year two.

There are so many plans that I am making, and I will share more as they start coming to fruition, or at least appear to be. Getting back to life feels really good. I will try to keep this blog updated in a more timely fashion from now on.

My sister, Karen, is expecting her first child, a little girl, the beginning of April. I'm looking forward to being an aunt again. My friend, Lori, is getting married on my birthday and so I am planning a trip to Cincinnati for her big day, and then stay a week with Karen, Jeff, and the baby.

Aidan and Andrew are my little darlings, and they make me smile all the time, which has to be good for my immune system. I have treasured the time I've been able to spend with them—it will be very difficult when I move out because I will miss them terribly.

Here's to living and loving life!

It has been 10 months since my diagnosis, and as of my doctor's appointment last Thursday, my prognosis looks very promising. Dr. Goldberg told me that my bloodwork results were good and if he didn't know my history, he would never have suspected that I had had leukemia. He then told me to get on with my life. I walked out of the clinic with a huge smile on my face.

My immune system will continue to be susceptible to viruses and infections for up to two years, so I must remain vigilant about what and where I eat, handwashing, and in general, use common sense regarding my health. I will not get a flu vaccine (I haven't in past years either but that's because I didn't want to) because my new immune system cannot handle it at this point, so during the cold and flu season I must take extra precautions. Although my doctors cannot declare me cured until year five, I feel very positive about the future and am making plans.

I feel incredibly blessed because I feel so well and am able to focus on my future so soon after being diagnosed with cancer. I hear many stories of leukemia patients going through years of chemotherapy. I can't imagine. I suppose they are either not good candidates for transplant (not everyone is) or a donor cannot be found. Logistically, everything fell into place for me, and my doctors were aggressive in my treatment, which is what I wanted.

I'm spending MUCH time with my nephews—they're so adorable! Being around these little fellas has done me a world of good—they keep me active and silly. I will be taking somewhat of a break from them in the next couple of months as I venture to the Midwest—Ohio in November and Indiana in December. Then after the New Year it's time to get on with life!

The Power of Love (A Tribute)—October 2004

Note: much of the friend section of this entry is written in the "Defying Gravity" entry dated May 24, 2004

Turning to God
I’ve heard several people ask, “Where was God on 9/11?” They ask this question as a challenge to faith because they feel God abandoned us that fateful day. I feel compelled to respond. I believe that God was with every one of us that day, giving us strength—especially strength, courage, and comfort to those trapped in the Towers, the Pentagon, and the hi-jacked airplanes. One of my first thoughts, as those unfathomable events unfolded that day, was that probably most people in this country either knew someone or knew of someone who was linked to the World Trade Center tragedy. I was saddened to learn that a woman from my hometown, who graduated the year before me, died that day. She was only thirty-six, but from what I understood, she had been living life on her own terms. She enjoyed her work at Canter-Fitzgerald, was taking acting classes, and strengthening her relationship to God. I truly believe God was by her side as she struggled with her fear and accepted her impending mortality. Years later, the thought of the unbearable suffering and loss of that day still reduces me to tears.

On September 11, 2001, I felt fortunate to be living in Cincinnati away from the chaos and destruction of New York City, even though I was in the process of planning a move there the following year, much to my parents’ chagrin. On 9/11, the thought of dying while still in my thirties never entered my mind—it wasn’t even a possibility. However, that changed once I was diagnosed with leukemia at age thirty-seven. I have always been somewhat of a control freak, and I learned very quickly I couldn’t control cancer. I have been examining my control issues, and in the process, am trying to let go of control and learn to trust; to accomplish this I have turned to God more than ever before.

Throughout my life, especially in difficult times, I’ve sought God. I never blame or bargain with God (or if I used to do these things, I don’t any more), but instead, try to give thanks for the many blessings I’ve received in my life, and ask for help and guidance to navigate through difficult times. Letting go of fear and the need to control and trusting in God has been an exercise in faith. I had to have faith in the procedures of chemotherapy, radiation, and bone marrow transplant to eradicate the cancer in my body and to cure me. I agonized over agreeing to transplant and weighed all the possible complications—even death. Then I thought, ‘Yes, Barbara’s stem cells could reject my body or vice versa, and I’ll die, but if I don’t have the transplant, I’m likely to relapse or even die within the next five years.’ Having the transplant was my leap of faith that I was doing what I needed in order to ensure (or at least better the odds of) my long-term survival.

Turning to God is not always easy. In this world where I want to control everything, letting go and trusting has been a huge step. I knew from the start that I could not rely solely on my doctors and chemotherapy. I had to take action for my spiritual well-being to assist healing the parts of my body that were diseased. I prayed, meditated, and worked with affirmations and guided imagery to generate positive energy. I know these have aided in the healing of my cancer.

One Friday night after my second or third round of chemotherapy—I can’t recall which one—I was having an extremely difficult time dealing with my diagnosis. Everyone had gone to sleep and I was alone in my room. Earlier in the evening, I had noticed fog creeping into the neighborhood. I love fog at night, the way light disperses through the haze obscuring reality and conjuring a mystical, haunting atmosphere.

I needed to explore my feelings, and somehow gazing into the deep mist calmed me. I lit the candle on the meditation box, put on some beautiful Celtic music, extinguished the bedside lamp, opened the shades, and sat down cross-legged in front of the window, staring out into the night searching for I’m not sure what—answers, assurances, enlightenment?

This was my time to discourse with God, and I reached out for strength and guidance. I sat there for an hour, tears streaming down my face, talking to God about my future and how I knew my work here on Earth was incomplete. It’s not that I think I’m more special than anyone else, but I’ve always believed that God wanted me to accomplish wonderful things, and I still believe that. I was just beginning my “new life” living in the New York City area, and to have it all come to an abrupt end seemed like a cruel twist of fate. It couldn’t all be over at thirty-seven years of age! I poured my heart out that night and adamantly proclaimed that I was not ready to die. I suppose that is arrogance—having the audacity to tell God when you’re ready to leave this world. I’ve (for the most part) been one who speaks her mind, and I wanted God to hear me.

I eventually calmed down, blew out the candle, turned off the music, and climbed into bed. It felt good—a catharsis of sorts—and I fell asleep in peace.

Almost five months after transplant I feel positive about my progress. There is still a long way to go, but I know God is working with me to be cured, and that by making my sister’s stem cells almost a perfect match, I am on my way to a long, healthy, and productive life. I must believe that.

When I was first diagnosed, a minister read Helen Steiner Rice's poem A Bend in the Road to me; I was so moved by it (this poem is reprinted with permission in my book Rebirth: A Leukemia Journal). So, I read this poem when a lapse of faith occurs, and it inspires me once again to depend on and trust in God and let go of my need to control. Turning to God at this time has also helped me find the humility to depend on my family and permit them to care for me.

Depending on Family
I don’t know what I’d do without my family. My family is very important to me, and I’ve come to realize how much I want a family of my own some day. My parents, my sisters and their husbands are all so caring. They have tended to my health and emotional needs quite well these past ten months. Family is there for you no matter what—at least my family is and always has been.

The most immediate form of kindness I received was from Barbara and Dan, who let me move into their home. Once I was diagnosed, Barbara told me that I was to move in with them. Actually, it was more of a command, but then that is Barbara, a take-charge kind of woman. Daniel made no objections, dutifully accepting my intrusion. I can’t imagine having had to live on my own during this ordeal, especially when I was feeling sick, extremely fatigued, or scared. There were many times that regardless of the number of people surrounding me, I still felt incredibly alone. That loneliness would have been multiplied many times had I not been in the company of loved ones. Plus, my living in their home affords me much bonding time with my godchild, Aidan, and his baby brother, Andrew, both of whom I love more than words can express.

Dan likes to joke about my living in their home. For instance, he will tell people, “I was the only one in Deb’s family to really encourage her to move to New York and pursue her dream of acting. I even told her she could stay with us for a while. If I’d never encouraged Deb to do this she would still be in Cincinnati, and Karen and Jeff would be taking care of her!” We all laugh at this—it’s really Dan’s way of saying he loves me.

Upon hearing of my diagnosis, my parents, Karen and her husband, Jeff, flew to New Jersey. Karen and Jeff stayed two days past Christmas, while Dad remained for two weeks and Mom stayed for three weeks. This was definitely not our typical Christmas of food, wine, an over-abundance of gifts, and family merriment. Our family Christmas celebrations have always been major events, as we leisurely take turns opening gifts and savoring the moment. Previous Christmas festivities included going to 5:00PM mass on Christmas Eve, coming home to prepare and eat hors d’oeuvres, sipping wine, going to my grandparents’ home to visit with relatives, and then returning home to a living room overflowing with myriad treasures. We would pass out everyone’s gifts so that each person had a pile of presents surrounding where they were seated, and then proceed to go around in a circle taking turns opening one gift at a time. Some may see this as tedious (Dan would rather pull out his fingernails yet he tolerates it) but we have always enjoyed extending the gift opening as long as possible. About ten years ago Dad bought a camcorder, and ever since he has recorded every Christmas-gift unwrapping—countless hours of opening presents have been captured on film.

However, Christmas Eve 2003 there were no gifts, food, wine or family revelry, but rather, I was in the hospital, receiving chemotherapy and morphine with Mom and Dad at my bedside. Karen, Jeff, and Barbara arrived late in the day on December 25th. It was a somber Christmas but one in which we truly experienced the value of family. No longer did we take for granted that we would be together for many more years. None of us knew what lay ahead. Tragedy such as this had never infiltrated our family unit nor did we think it ever would, at least not at our ages. Up to this point, we had been unscathed by serious illness. My parents were beside themselves with worry, anger, grief, and fear. How could one of their daughters have cancer? My father kept repeating, “Kids are supposed to die after their parents.” He told me that he would gladly trade places with me.

I smiled sadly, touching his hand and replied, “Daddy, I wouldn’t want anyone else to go through this.”

I was in the hospital for six days before I started feeling ill from the leukemia. Prior to that, the doctors had been running various tests on me. On Christmas Eve, what I thought were merely aching muscles, turned out to be bone pain caused by the leukemia. This instilled great fear in me, and having weighed my treatment options, I decided to begin chemotherapy that evening. I was in so much pain later in the day that I couldn’t take phone calls, so my family took messages for me. The nurses finally started a morphine drip after my father, who was in a hyper state of anxiety, insisted they do something to alleviate my pain. He stood by my bed praying over me. He was helpless to do anything else, so prayer was his contribution and his consolation.

As always, Mother stayed strong and spent the night nursing me. Although I was receiving fluids intravenously, she woke me up regularly to drink water and rinse my mouth with the saline solution provided to prevent mouth sores (a side effect from chemo). She helped me to the bathroom when needed. I was mentally incoherent so it was good that she was there to guide and assist me.

On December 26th, Dan, Dad, Jeff, and Karen moved my belongings out of my West New York apartment and into Barbara and Dan’s basement. December 27th I was released from the hospital and moved into their home. That day I also discovered that Barbara was pregnant. She knew that she was pregnant when I was diagnosed and decided to hold off telling me. I felt awful—my cancer diagnosis definitely sucked the joy out of her pregnancy news. On December 28th, Aidan celebrated his first birthday. Unfortunately, I did not feel up to celebrating with everyone, so I spent the afternoon in my room resting.

Over the next several weeks, my parents chauffeured me to my follow-up clinic visits despite their fears of driving in New Jersey traffic. Dad refused to get behind the wheel of the car, so Mom, despising every moment of it, braved the drive.

My father wrote out many affirmations for me to utilize in my prayer and meditation sessions. He was sure that I would survive; my death was not acceptable to him. My mother prepared meals for me, bringing them on a tray to me in my room. She kept me supplied with beverages, mostly water or cran-raspberry juice diluted with water, and she even slept in my bed with me a couple of times when I was scared and feeling vulnerable. We’d talk for a while, sharing our fears and frustrations about my illness and our hopes for a cure and then drift off to sleep.

One morning I woke up to the the dawn's early light and looked over at her sleeping peacefully. She looked very beautiful to me. My parents have always been a source of strength and security. I depend on them for encouragement and help, and right now they’ve even assisted financially.

Barbara and Dan have been an even bigger help financially. They’ve paid some of my health insurance premiums, hospital bills, credit card balances, and not to mention they feed me and allow me to live with them rent-free. This is an enormous sacrifice on their part because I am not working at the moment and am only collecting a mere $1,082 a month of disability. It is difficult to be so dependent on others when I desire to be independent. It’s been a humbling experience. Barbara and Dan’s generosity and love overwhelms me at times. I have always been close to both of my sisters and I love their husbands, too. In fact, their husbands have discovered that when you marry one Ludwig, you marry the entire family!

Karen has been here several times to take care of me after chemotherapy and transplant. Mother was here for two weeks after transplant, as well. When not visiting, both of them would call on a regular basis. As I got stronger and healthier, their phone calls became less frequent, though I still enjoyed hearing from them.

My family continues to be a wonderful source of comfort, support, love, and encouragement. In addition to my family, my friends have unfailingly been there for me. I always knew my friends were special and amazing people, but I don’t think I appreciated the depth of their amazing and special qualities until now.

Calling on Friends
I’ve never been very good at asking for help. Fortunately for me, my friends called on me. From the moment they found out I was diagnosed with leukemia, I was receiving phone calls, e-mail messages, letters, cards, etc. I never realized how many people cared about me. It was very eye-opening and humbling. My friend, Robin, wrote to me and said, “Some people never know how much they are loved and cherished, but the gods have elected for you to know.”

The following is a tribute to some of my dearest friends. It is also a list of things people did for me to help with my care, to brighten my day, and to encourage me to keep fighting the fight. This is my way to say thank you, and unfortunately there will be people I omit, though not intentionally. There have been so many acts of kindness it is impossible to share them all. Some of the following is written in my book Rebirth. This is a superb list of ideas for anyone who knows someone going through cancer or illness—or any difficult ordeal, for that matter. I offer these ideas to the reader as suggestions you may find useful when wanting or needing to reach out to a friend or family member who is suffering through a crisis.

Lynn
I first met Lynn on a kindergarten field trip; we sat next to each other on the bus. I didn’t know her because she was in the afternoon class and I was in the morning one. I recall she had a cold sore on her little mouth and apparently I asked her what it was. I don’t recall asking her that but she says I did.

I didn’t see that little girl again until I entered Sister Cynthia Marie’s first-grade class in the fall. We became friends quickly, and that friendship has endured and strengthened over thirty-two years. Though she and I lead very different lives—she is a nurse and lives in the small, rural town of Rockport, Indiana with her husband, Dale, and their two adorable children, Kyle and Kara—we couldn’t be closer friends. Every time I visit my hometown, Lynn and I make the effort to see each other. We left for our respective colleges at age eighteen and have regularly written to each other throughout the years.

Recently, I received a $300.00 check from her. I started crying when I saw it because I kept thinking she should be using that money for her children. I called to thank her and she told me that she had wanted to do something for me when I initially moved to the New York area, in August 2002, because she knew how difficult it would be for me getting started. She felt that now was the perfect time to help me. She assured me that she had earned some extra money, and that she would rather the money go directly to me as opposed to some anonymous person through a charitable organization. The money was very helpful, but more than the money, it is her friendship that I treasure.

Karen B (EuroK is her alter-ego that she discovered during her European sabbatical the summer of 2001)
Karen B and I met at a party the summer of 2000, and it only took twenty minutes of talking to this woman to know that she would become a dear friend. We had an immediate connection.

Karen B has been the principal coordinator of much information regarding my treatments and progress. She regularly relays this information, via e-mail, to everyone in my address book. She visited for a week after one of my rounds of chemo and was at the hospital, in my room, during the bone marrow transplant. Then she returned the following week to spend the week with me at the hospital.

She not only made these trips to help take care of me and transport me to the clinic, but she also made a surprise trip to New York City my birthday weekend. She brought with her $1,250.00 she had collected to help with my medical expenses through the EuroK Flying Pig Marathon Challenge. She came up with this idea and named it such because it was the weekend of the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati. She has given of her time and energy above and beyond what I ever could, or would, have expected. Her friendship is very precious to me.

Cindy
Cindy is my cousin, but she is much more than a cousin. She and I were in the same grade throughout primary and secondary school, and we ran with the same group of people. So not only are we cousins, we’re great friends. When she and her family moved to Lebanon, Ohio, I was overjoyed (I was already living in Cincinnati; Lebanon is about 28 miles north of downtown Cincinnati). I made many trips up I-71 to visit them. I’d spend the entire day at their home, playing with Jake and Megan, eating, drinking, and laughing. Cindy and John are so much fun and I love them and their children.

After I was diagnosed, Cindy was one of the first people to find out. From that moment on, she called me every two to three days if I was in the hospital and every two to three weeks when I was home. I enjoyed hearing from her so much. She also sent make-up, hats, and loungewear. She always brightened my day with stories of the kids. She and I have always been close, but we’ve found a deeper closeness throughout this time.

Nelson & Beckie
Nelson and Beckie just fit together. They are a beautiful couple and their relationship gives me hope for my own romantic possibilities. Nelson started out as an acquaintance. I met him in 1996 through his ex-girlfriend when she was my assistant director in Talley’s Folly, in which I played the role of Sally Talley. I did not become friends with him until I started hanging out with Karen B because they both worked at Procter & Gamble and were good friends. Eventually, he not only became one of my dearest friends, but also a fabulous dance partner! This Latino man has quite the moves when it comes to salsa, meringue, cha-cha, and rumba.

In April 2002, he moved to Los Angeles and there met a lovely British dancer, Beckie. When he made the move to New York, she came with him. When they moved to the city in August 2003 I was thrilled. I had only been in the area one year, and though I had made some friends, it was so wonderful to have a good friend whom I trusted living nearby. The first time I met Beckie, I liked her immediately. She is a warm, sincere, funny, beautiful woman. She and Nelson have been so good to me—even before I was diagnosed with leukemia.

Every time I come into the city, I stay with them. They have told me, “Our place is your place, and we want you to come and go as you want.” I stayed with them for six days and five nights over my birthday weekend, and I got the impression that they weren't ready to kick me out—that’s how great they are. They also call often to see how I am doing.

Another way Nelson has helped me is by providing some of his frequent flyer miles to my family members. This enabled them to visit me without the cost of flying becoming a financial burden on them. When I was in the hospital for transplant, during one of his visits, Nelson picked up his cell phone and called Delta Airlines to reserve a round-trip ticket for my mother’s visit the following month. This was not the first time he offered frequent flyer miles to my family. Karen used some for her flight out to New Jersey at the end of January.

Beckie, who is a Pilates instructor, gave me a free Pilates coaching once when I visited, which I thought was quite nice. Generosity is a trait many of my friends possess.

Natalie
Natalie and I met the winter of 1994 when she came to see Ten Little Indians, a community theatre production that a couple good friends of hers were in with me. This was my debut performance in Cincinnati. However, we didn’t really become close friends until a couple of years later when we started hanging out together and realized how much we had in common. She is someone with whom I can have an interesting conversation about spirituality. Both she and I have dealt with serious losses the past couple of years and that’s strengthened our bond. She lost her father the summer of 2003 and I lost my health December of that same year. Unfortunately, I was not there for her the way she has been here for me. I called, e-mailed, and checked up on her and she did all those things for me, but she actually made the trip out to see me and help transport me to clinic visits. She showed up with two Cincinnati favorites—several flavors of Graeter’s ice cream and Skyline Chili—for which she scored major points with Dan.

Not only did she give of her time, but she also bought a three-month on-line subscription to Simply Audiobooks for me and sent bubble bath along with a $100.00 check. She is a true friend and I’m so grateful to have her in my life.

Lisa
I met Lisa in 1995 when I directed her in The Diary of Anne Frank. She portrayed Mrs. Frank with grace and strength. What a performance! As her director I was so proud. Needless to say, she and I became best of friends very quickly. She went on to direct me as the Witch in Into the Woods, I directed her again in The Nerd, and both of us were two of the five founding members of Ovation Theatre Company in Cincinnati. We’ve definitely been through a lot together when it comes to theater, but we’ve also been through much together personally. I had the honor of being a bridesmaid in her wedding on November 13, 1999. Lisa is still one of the people running Ovation, which will be going into its sixth season.

I spoke with her about a month ago on the phone and she told me that she was going to donate her hair to be made into a wig for cancer patients who lose their hair from chemotherapy and/or radiation treatments. Lisa has gorgeous, thick, curly, long hair. Anyone would be blessed to have a wig made form her locks. She also told me a little girl who attends her church is going to do the same thing for children who have cancer, and they’re planning to get their hair cut the same day. This is a beautiful gesture and a need that is achingly too real—even for children.

She, Tim, and Joshua made a trip out to New Jersey to see me about a month after I was released from my initial stay in the hospital. They drove from Cincinnati, which is at least a ten-hour trip. It was so good to see them.

Susan
Susan and I became friends when we both worked at Cigna in Cincinnati. She was in the healthcare division and I worked in the group department (life, accident and disability insurance). She moved into Ravenswood Apartments, where I lived with my sister, Karen, and we started hanging out, going for walks, and partying on the weekends. Just as our friendship was solidifying, she received a severance package from Cigna, eventually found employment in Miami, and relocated to Florida. I never had the opportunity to visit her in Miami, but a few years later, she moved to Pittsburgh, her current residence, and I have visited her there on several occasions.

A few years ago, she took her bike to Utah with Team-in-Training to raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. She did this again a year later in Arizona. (How ironic that several years later I would develop leukemia.) Unfortunately, she has not been able to participate again due to a severe knee injury, but that has not stopped her from donating time to recruit people for Team-in-Training. At the end of April, she met with potential volunteers.

She and boyfriend at the time, fiancé now, Doug, drove from Pittsburgh to visit me one weekend near the end of April. I felt well enough to spend that Saturday showing them the city. By the end of the day, though, I was exhausted. As always, it was wonderful to have a dear friend near.

Katie
Katie is another friend who visited me to help around the house and transport me to the hospital. This was all the more kind because she was three to four months pregnant and had left husband, Kevin, in Alexandria to fend for himself, while she stayed with me in New Jersey.

Katie and I met in 1994 when we both performed in the above mentioned show, Ten Little Indians. It was her first show in Cincinnati, too. Like me, she worked in the insurance industry during the day and her office building was located downtown a block away from mine. We became friends quickly, but in 1995, she and Kevin moved to the Washington DC area. I visited them in 1996 and we stayed in contact intermittently. Then we lost touch.

In 2001, I received a Christmas card from her that included her e-mail address, so I e-mailed her, and from that point we have remained in contact. I informed her of my impending move to New York City, and once I was settled there, she decided to spend some time going back and forth between New York and Alexandria to pursue acting in the New York market. It was during this time that she and I reconnected and cemented our friendship.

She told me she was pregnant not long before I was diagnosed with leukemia. She called me often, visited, sent little gift packages of shampoos, lotions, and foot scrubs—many items with which to pamper myself. Then July 18, 2004 she gave birth to Emma Marcelline. I can’t wait to meet Emma! She will come to discover she has very special parents.

Dan G
My friend, Scott, one of the founding members of Ovation, hooked me up with Dan over e-mail before I moved to the northeast. Dan and I e-mailed each other for months (he’s a very busy man) before we actually met. One Friday night I went to Chelsea and met him at Food Bar. In no time we were talking about everything. No topic was off limits and at times it got a little racy. It was fun! I couldn’t believe how quickly we opened up to each other. The next day I received an e-mail message from him declaring, “Oh, my God, you’re my new best friend!” I’ll never forget it. I told him I felt the same way.

Unfortunately, Dan G and I don’t get to spend much time together, but when we do, it’s like long-time friends, picking up where we left off. That type of relationship is very important to me, and I have many of them. It’s not the quantity of time you spend with someone that’s important, but rather the quality.

He gave me a wonderful gift on May 6th. He took me to see the musical Wicked. I absolutely loved it. The show is funny and touching and it offers a new perspective on The Wizard of Oz, specifically the back story of the witches. After the show, we moseyed on up to the souvenir counter where he bought me two CD’s—the soundtrack to Wicked and one with Idina Menzel (who played Elphaba and who won the 2004 Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical) singing songs she’s written/co-written. I couldn’t believe he bought all this for me. He told me, “You’re going to need something to listen to while you’re in the hospital.” He was referring to my upcoming bone marrow transplant.

While I was in Manhattan, late September/early October, Dan once again treated me to a Broadway musical. This time it was Avenue Q. Unfortunately, due to a conflict he couldn’t go with me, but told me to take someone else. Karen B was in town visiting so she accompanied me. The show was hysterical. I laughed so hard. Dan G has been very kind and generous to me this past year. What a sweetie!

Maria
I’ve known Maria since first grade. She, Lynn, and I were in the same class. Maria and I shared lockers all four years of high school and were college roommates all but one semester, so we have been close friends almost our entire lives. Maria lives in Chicago with husband, Aaron, and their three adorable children, Olivia, Eliza, and Nathan. I don’t get to see Maria often nor do we talk on the phone or e-mail that much, but when we are together, it’s as if no time has passed.

Maria was feeling a little guilty about not having kept in touch after I was diagnosed with leukemia. I told her not to feel badly, that we all have busy lives. She flew out to visit me (accompanied by Kimberly, our college roommate and friend) during my hospital stay for transplant. It was such an incredible surprise. I had no idea they were coming.

Maria also has sent cards, facial creams (after lamenting to her about my dry skin), and a few CD’s: Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat soundtrack, Bette Midler’s Experience the Divine, and Carrie Newcomer’s The Gathering of Spirits. All these gifts were so appreciated. I value her friendship, and know that we will continue to be cherished friends throughout our lives, despite our limited interaction.

Additional acts of kindness
There are so many kind gestures people have bestowed upon me and it is difficult to include them all here. However, there are some additional ideas I feel are worth mentioning because I found them to be clever, useful, and/or surprising.

Lynn and Maria knew that I could not attend our twenty-year class reunion, so they brought the reunion to me. Maria took her camcorder and shot general scenes of classmates mulling about and interacting, and then she recorded individual messages from several people. It was so wonderful to see these people and hear their voices. It was almost as if I were there.

Lynn had taken a shoe box and note cards with her, and set them up on a table so that classmates could write messages to me. She then mailed them along with $45.00 that had been collected to me. (I have no idea who the money was from.) These notes are tucked away with all my other cards and letters. These items are very precious to me, and my friends were so thoughtful to think of ways to include me in the reunion. I was extremely touched.

Another gift from the reunion was from Danny, a friend of my mother’s who is a photographer. He shot both of my sisters’ weddings. He took the group photo at the reunion and sent an 8" x 10" copy of it to me. It is placed in a photo album.

Marni took some photos of me not long after the reunion. She had visited in August and suggested that she take some pictures of me with my “new look” to send out to casting directors. At this point, my hair was beginning to grow back but it was extremely short. She used to take headshot and publicity shots for the Cincinnati Shakespeare Festival where she was a member (a founding member), so I thought why not? She took the train back out to Basking Ridge, September 13th. She shot four rolls of black and white film. She left the 15th for Atlanta to work with the Georgia Shakespeare Festival. Prior to that, she’d been doing promotional work at the U.S. Open, packing for her apartment move, performing in the NY Fringe Festival, and spending time with her boyfriend, so her fitting me into her already hectic schedule meant a lot. Marni also gave me many lovely scarves throughout the year and I’ve definitely put them to good use.

Lani, another performing artist friend, made two trips to visit me in Basking Ridge and spent much time with me in the hospital, especially during my bone marrow transplant. She made macaroni and cheese one afternoon and brought it with her to the hospital. This was awesome because I had had no appetite and this was the first substantial amount of food I’d eaten in weeks. Lani also recorded her debut CD with her band Stark titled, The Curse. I was reading the jacket cover some time after she’d given me a copy and noticed that she had dedicated it to me (and her beloved dog, Peaches, who she had put to sleep due to illness). I was so honored!

I felt honored again when Rick P, the theatre writer and critic at City Beat Magazine in Cincinnati, made two comp tickets available to me to attend the Cincinnati Entertainment Awards. This was perfect because I had planned to be in Cincinnati in November during the awards ceremony. He felt this would be a good way for me to see friends and colleagues during my visit. It was so kind of him to think of me.

One of the most useful and clever gifts I received came from Karryn, an ex-co-worker of mine at Cigna. In August, she sent a lovely floral decorated filing box and inside it were hundreds of cards for all occasions—birthday, anniversary, wedding, thank you, get well, first communion, baptism, etc. Also included was a roll of stamps. I will definitely not have to shop for cards anytime soon! I’ve already used seven cards and it is only October.

And of course, what is an illness without having many activities to occupy your mind. Jen visited me many times both in Basking Ridge and at the hospital. She provided me with many audio books and regular books. One of my favorites was The Alchemist by Paul Coelho, which I’ve wanted to read for several years. It’s about following your “personal legend,” which is your greatest dream. It was inspirational and I enjoy reading inspirational books be they fiction or non-fiction.

Another book supplier was Bobbi. She was quite generous. She also spent time visiting me at the hospital, which I can’t even emphasize how beneficial and uplifting this was for my spirit. The hospital can be a very lonely place and to have friends spend time with me was comforting. Bobbi also was one of the few people to come out to Basking Ridge. Basking Ridge is not far from the city but it is a lengthy train ride, so the effort made by everyone to visit me there was admirable.

There are a few more people that I must mention—Shelley, Russ, and Geralynn. Shelley and Russ spent a considerable amount of time driving me to and from my clinic appointments. The drive was almost an hour each way and then they would stay with me during my visit, which could go anywhere from two to eight hours, depending on what I needed. For instance, during one appointment, I had to get blood drawn, see the doctor, get one bag of platelets and two bags of blood. Because I did not have my catheter yet, these transfusions had to be given to me in my arm, and to prevent pain, the blood products had to be administered very slowly. I wasn’t done until 8:00PM one night. Russ was quite the sport that day.

Once Shelley began driving me on a regular basis, she and I became good friends. People even mistook her for Barbara because of her blond hair and her being pregnant.

And last, but definitely not least, Geralynn, a friend from college. Geralynn has been very good about staying in touch over the years, and when she found out I was sick, she called often and sent some lovely items such as lotion, a small photo book (including pictures from college and my and Barbara’s 1994 visit to her in Los Angeles), a cute red bag, some yummy, flavored chap sticks, and a book mark. She is planning to visit next summer. She lives in Iowa with her family.

I know there are people and gifts I’ve omitted here, but every deed, every gift is stored in my heart, and my memory is very good. I feel an enormous circle of love surrounding me, protecting me, providing strength, and willing me to get well. I am the luckiest woman in the world to have so many beautiful people in my life. I love every one of you.

In closing, let me reiterate that these kind gestures have meant so much to me and have inspired me to be a better, more generous person. It’s not only the gifts either. There have been hundreds of e-mails, cards, and prayers from all over, and many from people I don’t even know. It’s the “Get well, I’m thinking of you, you’re in my prayers,” messages that have sustained me. Knowing that a large number of people are pulling for me, praying for me, and wishing me well has been the greatest tonic for my spirit.

It’s a struggle to be happy when you have cancer, but knowing there is an abundant supply of love and support out there makes the situation more bearable. The power of love—God, family, friends—can see you through any adversity. Your relationships are the most important thing in your life. As singer Sara Groves vocalizes in the song "Just One More Thing" on her All Right Here CD (a gift from Karen B), “At the end of your life your relationships are all you’ve got.” She’s right, so cherish them.