Hey my people, I just heard what I think is the most optimistic and convincing program yet for discouraging...maybe even preventing!...cancer. This is not me being paid for my opinion; it's me being hugely excited. Much more in future, but today I'll just mention two names: Dr. Lise Alschuler and Karolyn A. Gazella. Their just-published book, Five To Thrive, is all about epigenetics---- which holds that you can actually change the way your body "reads" the genetic instructions it receives from your DNA. In other words, maybe our cancer-ish genes don't have to win. I would personally like to slap my genes silly for all the trouble they've caused me, and I'm thrilled to get the chance.
Again, the names are Dr. Lise Alschuler and Karolyn Gazella.If you'd care for a great big fact-filled shot of hope, get your google going right now. Warmest regards, Anne
Social Media for Cancer Voyagers
Hey my people, Having a great exchange with Lynn, a new friend on our Well Again page on Facebook. She wants to send pix of her crocuses but she's not sure how to post. Anybody relate???? While the digital world was taking quantum leaps forward, a lot of us were having cancer treatments that temporarily took up all our mental storage. So now here we are, and it feels like the world is just galloping ahead and how will we catch up?
What if it's a matter of openness and generosity? We already know that isolation is one of the most painful things about cancer. We already know that the online world is an awesome tool to bring us together. Doesn't it seem like we could figure out a way to help each other master the online basics, so we could reach out and connect?
Anybody care to post on my Well Again wall and tell Lynn in three steps how to post a picture of her crocuses?
Friends Help Friends Thrive
Hey my people, my friend Lisa Gates, a life coach with mad social media skills and a heart of 28-carat gold, took time today from running her own site, The Daily Thrive, to help me with Well Again. Check out Lisa's site and you'll see her generous spirit all over the place. It's this cool team of experts in various fields who are helping women learn more about balance, money, tech, organization, and…the toughest for most of us…negotiation. Lisa, thanks again!
The Magic of February 29
So today has been a gift of survivorship. We've enjoyed this rare leap-year phenomenon, February 29. Some of us had chemo today. Some of us got that first cold-water diagnosis. Some of us got—I love this expression—a clean bill of health! Some of us played with our kids; others, our dogs. A lot of us worried about various fixes we found ourselves in, which is another way of saying that today we were alive. Hope this was one of your good days, wherever you are.
Can I afford to come out about cancer?
Hey my people, Check out The Sickness Closet, a brilliant column in Salon today by my awesome fellow cancer vet Mary Elizabeth Williams. The subject is: do we let people know we're dealing with the C, or do we keep it secret?
I mean, keeping it all a secret just can't be good. I get this picture of my trillions of cells trying to fend off the cancer while also pouring out energy to explain my oddly long lunch hours and my blood-test band-aids, and, who knows, whether my wig is on straight. Talk about your strength-sappers!
On the other hand… Next to the shock power of the C word itself, the second-most-awful C word comes from your insurance company: CANCELLED. So the closet starts to look pretty good. Except that hiding encourages people to think cancer is worse than it is. If we're sick one day, we'll be better the next. We're not dead.
We're alive, thank you very much!
Most of us who come down with cancer go right on living. For every curve the illness throws at us, we discover new strength and new purpose. The folks who count us out… and those who want us to keep cancer a deep, dark secret… I'm guessing they're really scared of cancer themselves. Not that I blame them.
But here's the thing. If I'm hiding my cancer journey, how can I help with yours?
True story: "Well again means giving more than I take."
Cancer Vets Speak: A Well Again Series
Hello, my people! Here's a tremendous message about life beyond cancer treatment. Thanks for letting me share this. We want to hear your truth, so don't be afraid to join in. Everybody's cancer story is different. Somebody out there needs to hear yours. —Warmest regards, Anne
Gregory's Story
"Three weeks after a year of aggressive treatment for rectal adenocarcinoma, a PET scan showed a golf ball sized tumor. So now I have another year of treatment ahead. I worry about burning out the people who support me. I was strong and athletic, and I don't know what to fill that part of my life with."
What's my Well Again?
"Being well again for me will mean a life without how are you doing? and the kind, loving pats on my arms and back. Well means giving more than I take; when I can ride my bike as long and far as I want; when I can lift weights without someone asking, should you be doing this? Being well will mean running into friends at the supermarket and talking about avocados and children and dogs, not my health.
"Some experienced nurses tell me that cancer patients are the easiest to work with. If that"s true, why are we like that? Is it because we try so hard? Because we're so grateful? I think it's in the way we make peace with our fear, but I can't say for sure."
Disclaimer: Well Again does not give medical advice. For cancer advice, see a doctor.
True story: "Cancer is with me every day…"
Cancer Vets Speak: A Well Again Series
Hello, my people! You've been sending me amazing stories about life beyond cancer treatment. Thanks for letting me share them here. We want to hear your truth, so don't be afraid to join in. Everybody's cancer story is different. Somebody out here needs to hear yours. —Warmest regards, Anne
Liz's Story
"I'm a 35 year old breast cancer survivor, diagnosed in August 2009 at 32. Just at the time when seemingly every woman my age I knew was having babies, I was having chemo! It was really hard to stay cheerful at baby showers. I've really worked hard to find my new normal and to embrace the life I have, but cancer is with me every day and always will.
"My number one cancer pet peeve is (and was) war metaphors: "kick its ass," "you're going to beat this thing," "he's a cancer warrior," "she lost the battle'" etc. Like it's just a matter of trying hard enough or something. I know people mean well; I guess that's why it's more of a pet peeve than something that truly enrages me.
Disclaimer: Well Again does not give medical advice. For cancer advice, see a doctor.
So much more!
I say we deserve more!
Welcome to Well Again
I’m Anne Stockwell, founder of Well Again™, a new organization for cancer survivors and the people who love them. Well Again is not about fighting the fight or finding the cure. Thousands of wonderful people are meeting those challenges.
Well Again is about something more mysterious. It's about helping each other find the road back from cancer and into the rest of our lives.
Medical treatment is so set on mapping our progress, you’d think they'd have a map to get us home. But no. When you’re diagnosed, everything happens in a jumble. It’s almost hysterical—like a cartoon ambulance screeches around the corner, and cartoon orderlies jump out and take you off to Cancerville, where amazing people save your life. But then…it's over. The cartoon ambulance spits you out again—Bye bye!—and they’re off to save somebody else’s life, and you’re alone.
What now?
I've faced that question three times so far, and it's always been a gift. Crazy as it seems, cancer filled me with the capacity for joy. It showed me that my life was an adventure, and for 11 years, that's how I've lived it. (Check out my gallery for a few of the wonderful adventures that have come my way.)
Well Again is about helping every cancer survivor get home from Cancerville and rejoin the adventure of life. In my blog, look forward to Well Again updates, photos and stories from cancer survivors, links I love and your content, too! More on that next time.
Warm regards,
Anne