2011 - The Year Cancer Got Its Butt Kicked

Let's have a look back on the Year That Was 2011.

January - The year began with a trip to the poorly-named Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center to meet the Wizard.  We returned to Atlanta for my first chemo session. And then I started learning how to manage my side effects, including some steroid-induced insomnia.

February - My next couple of rounds of chemo brought me closer to my new BFF, Imodium. In fact I wrote a poem singing her praises.  Marcie and I also had a little alone time in the Tennessee foothills, which was a welcome break from the new routine. 

March - Came in like a lion, and out like a mouse. Yeah, I know, it's supposed to be a lamb, but stay with me here. See I was lyin' on the PET Scan table for the first time, and getting great results earlier in the month and we were packing for our awesome family trip to Disney at the end.

April - We knew to expect princesses, pirates, and even seven vertically-challenged whistlers, but we had no idea we'd also meet an angel named Doris at Disney. We said a peaceful goodbye to a mother from A&J's class that month, and recalled my own mother's favorite time of year, the family gatherings at the Seder Table.

May - As the month began the cumulative effects of 6 rounds of Chemo were beginning to take a toll on me. But a mid-month PET Scan showed continued good results, so I got over it. Marcie and I celebrated our 18th anniversary to close out the month, just as the Week From Hell began.

June - We survived that first week, thrilled by Adam's performance in Guys and Dolls, and touched by the number of friends and family that joined us for his Bar Mitzvah. And for some reason, I decided that was the perfect time to start writing a book. 

July - It's hard to imagine a better father-son month than July '11. Adam and I ran the Peachtree Road Race together on the 4th, in his first ever 10k. Then we jetted off to NYC for a few days in the city that never sleeps - apparently because it's 104 degrees at midnight! 

August - I learned that my feet and hands have much in common with dairy cow teets. My book made it to Amazon that month too, and I started making plans for that little beach house we've always wanted and would soon be able to afford with the proceeds from book sales. I'm only about 300,000 books short of my goal now. 

September - I was treated to one Falcons Game Road Trip and won another one, doubling the number of NFL games I'd seen in person in the last 10 years. There were some interesting characters at chemo session #12. 

October - I met the Pulitzer Prize Winning Author in person and even told him mine was the bathroom companion book to his. I also held my own book signing later in the month and was humbled by the turnout of friends and supporters. Oh, and Dr Z. told me there was No Evidence of Disease. 

November - Running was making a big return in my life by now, and the blog posts about spending a great weekend with friends in Savannah and winning the survivor's category in my underwear later in the month certainly reflected that trend. I also challenged the Almighty, in memory of yet another mom whose life cancer cut short. 

December - Life is beginning to return to normal, which leaves me with less to write about. I am so grateful for this year, for the good health I now enjoy, for my family who put up with all the challenges of my illness and varying mental state, and for the friends, co-workers, and readers whose support carried my through some of those tough days. I look forward to celebrating a 2012 that I hope will be easier on all of us, and so full of good times that's there no room left for anything else. 

Live From the Chemo Room #16

J'ever notice how when you have a short appointment it's on a day when the Dr.'s office is really crowded and running late? I hate that.

That was my Andy Rooney tribute, but it does describe my morning so far.

I'm looking forward to giving a hard time to the chemo nurse from last time. I switched one of my meds from an infusion to a shot, and she managed to give me a two inch bruise on the back of my arm. I thought the bruising was a side effect of my other drug, but Dr. Z says it was bad technique. It will be light hearted, of course, but I will milk it a bit.

I met a new patient today who is starting on Oxaliplatin, the drug that caused all my lovely side effects. I was able to share some tips about warming your drinking water, etc. He is on his second round of pancreatic cancer treatment. His wife and son are here with him. Son's about my age. They all have the right attitude.

I hope all of you have a wonderful holiday season. Give your family extra hugs this year. I know I will.

Touching a Nerve

A while back I wrote a post about smelling cigarette smoke on somebody waiting for chemo. It made me wonder how I "should" feel about somebody who engages knowingly in risky behavior and then suffers from consequences that were very possible to likely.  I posted links to that blog post on LinkedIn and Twitter, generating much more traffic than most of my posts do. Boy, did I touch a nerve with that one!

For the record:
I do not think anyone deserves cancer, lung or otherwise.
I do know that many people who are not smokers and who never were smokers are diagnosed with lung cancer each and every day.
I do feel empathy and sympathy for anyone dealing with cancer - those with the disease, their family members, and others helping them cope with it.

Still, based on some of the reactions to that post, you would think I'd said "anyone with lung cancer deserves to suffer" and "don't spend any money on lung cancer research because only smokers get lung cancer."

My point today isn't to argue the merits of my post or of the responses I received to it. It is to acknowledge that in the middle of the fight, our perception is often and understandably skewed. Like the angry driver just looking for somebody to cut him off so he can lay on the horn, or worse, we read something on a website with clenched teeth and fingers ready to pounce in reply. I get that. You've been through hell. Or hell, maybe you're still in hell, and along comes somebody you don't know who thinks he can say something provocative just to generate traffic on his website or to somehow drive sales of his stupid little book. So you lay into him.

And realizing he's wandered into a bees nest, he slowly backs out, removing the external links to his post so that only those who find his blog more directly will ever run into that offensive post again.

To those offended by my words, I'm sorry. I hope the fight you are a part of is a successful one.

When G-d Gets it Wrong

I had two wonderful teachers in nursery school at Cliff Valley, Mrs. Hirsch and Mrs. Weiner. Sharon (Weiner) had two children - Kenny, who was my age, and Vicki a year younger. Kenny died several years ago - from a hearth condition as I recall.

Vicki died today, from cancer.


G-d got it wrong this time. For parents to bury not one, but two adult children, is heartbreaking.


A few days ago, knowing her fight was nearly over, she wrote the following. Over 200 people responded before she passed away and her husband mentioned that he had read most of those comments to her.

This post from Vicki and the comments that followed it, are among the most moving things I've ever read. You can see more at http://www.vickihamersmith.com/

From Vicki

Hello to All My Family and Friends,

While I simply can’t thank everyone by name, I did want to express my deepest and heartfelt gratitude for all the calls, e-mails, text messages, thoughts of prayer, and overwhelming support I have received over the last (2) years.  I cannot begin to tell you how much each and everyone has meant ot me.  It is necessary for me to rest and save my strength for my Family, whom I have devoted my entire life.  As a result, we have set this up to allow a central site in which comments can be posted.  I will try to read them all; however, please understand I simply cannot respond to them.  If I can, I will post more.  It is important that you all know that I have tried to live every waking moment in an exemplary manner, one in which will both inspire and motivate to do good. I truly feel that I have made a difference and left a lasting impression both in my professional life and to those I have touch in my private one, especially my immediate Family, Steven, Sofie, Cameron, and Kasey. I feel most proud of the job I have done with my children and have always tried to give them unconditional love and admiration.  I am certain they know that and hope the lessons I have taught them will serve them well.  They are my pride and joy and cannot adequately express the love I have for them.  To my husband, I love you with all my heart and thank you for being my “everything” for all these years. I also want to tell my Parents thank you for always being there for me and making me the person I am.  To my close friends, family, and people of faith in my life, thank you for helping me during these difficult times.  If my time here is short, I want everyone to know that I love them, will miss them dearly, and appreciate all they have done and will do for Me and my Family.  With Sincere Love and Gratitude, Vicki.

Live From the Chemo Room #15

As Huey Lewis once crooned, I Want a New Drug. And just like Huey, I am switching my bone-regrowth elixir to something called Xgeva, which according to one person on staff here “we must’ve gotten a good deal on because it’s our preferred drug.” I found that funny, then disturbing, then funny again.  Dr. Z tells me it’s better because it’s a shot, not an infusion. 

I also met Nellie today. She has small-cell lung cancer, the kind you can get without being a smoker. She came over to me because one of the other patients in the waiting room told her I was an author. She’s not doing too well today, but I’m not sure if that’s a temporary thing or a bigger deal. She’s been fighting for 2.5 years. The cancer is gone from her lung, but it keeps coming back elsewhere.  She asked if I go to church, and invited me to come to hers, a Church of Christ location in Buford, GA, which I imagine means lots of fire and brimstone.  I’m thinking about it…

Otherwise, things have been good lately. It was great to have a family Thanksgiving with my dad and Marcie's folks, and then to spend time with my cousins on Friday, just like old times, only everyone else seemed much older. Funny how that happens - to other people.

Living Solid!

I have friends at SunTrust. They're good people, not just good business partners. Case in point:

Jeff gets a blow dry
for no apparent reason

Kelli and Jeff are my main direct contacts. Another member of their team at ST named Samantha  recently started chemo treatment and lost her hair. (If you're reading this Samantha, I've got a few good lines about chemo and hair loss in my book and there's a copy on the way to you.) So Jeff and several other guys on the team shaved their heads. It's fair to say that some had less to shave than others, but what an incredible gesture! 

People often ask "how can we help?" Well, the folks over at SunTrust did more to brighten Samantha's day than any amount of driving, cooking, or puke-bucket holding ever could have done. 

Solid guys, very, very solid!

Surviving and Thriving

If you've read my book, you've heard of Dawn, who's going on nine years as a survivor of colorectal cancer. Dawn's my hero - she's the one who taught me the valuable lesson that Stage Doesn't Matter. Her cancer was Stage IV and had metastasized to her liver. I used to think that meant certain death. I was wrong.

Dawn not only survived, she has thrived. It wasn't easy, but today Dawn is healthy, happy, full of energy and a tireless supporter of the Colon Cancer Alliance's Undy 5000 run. She was the top fundraiser this year, and was the top female finisher among the survivors who ran this past Saturday. As she said after the race, given her stature, she has to run twice as many steps as most of the other runners, including that tall guy next to her, the one who was the fastest male survivor in the race. Nice legs on that guy, I must say.

Way to go Dawn, the members of Team Blue is the Next Pink, and all of those who helped us raise over $100,000 in the Atlanta Undy 5000 race this weekend!