An Exclusive Club

Our president-elect went to the White House yesterday. It was an invitation to lunch at an exclusive club he's about to enter. Only current and former U.S. Presidents attending. Barrack Obama collected advice, good counsel, and fellowship, he said, from these men who have lived the unique life of a U.S. President.

That's good, because he's going to need all of it, stepping into a world as complicated as the one we live in these days.

Listening and learning from experience always pays off. This community does it every day. I look at this blog as kind of an exclusive club, too. Leroy created it so he could express his day-to-day life with cancer. He helped so many through his experiences with the doctors, the treatments, and the daily ups and downs of living with the disease.

You shared back. Sometimes there was fellowship, sometimes advice, sometimes good counsel. Whatever the daily posting was, it gave this cancer club the power and knowledge to face another day in a world just as complicated, in different ways, as the one our next president is facing.

These last few days, this community has shown its strength through experience. The suggestions to Sasha and others in times of need can't be matched.

In this club, you all rock! I'm proud to stand with you.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 01- 8-2009 | permalink

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Cancer World Resolutions

There's one more piece of holiday business to deal with now. I'm not talking about returning sweaters and shirts that don't fit, or the dismantling of the Christmas tree.
This is the season of resolutions.

Watch any morning television? There are parades of people who have lost hundreds of pounds. They resolved to lose the weight and the message is, you can too. Losing weight in the new year is a slam-dunk resolution.

The experts tell us it's better to wait a few weeks before we make these promises. I'm not sure what the benefit of that is.

So what kind of resolutions can we make if we're living in cancer world? Patient or caregiver, do we vow to take better care of ourselves and each other? Do we resolve to find a way to stay in touch with the world we left behind?

Then there's the bucket list. That's a special kind of terminal illness resolution pact. Leroy didn't really have a bucket list. He always said he'd had a good life with lots of adventures.

He just wanted his life to stay as normal as possible. If he had resolutions, they revolved around cheeseburgers and chocolate.

Sometimes resolutions don't have to be about weight loss and exercise.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 01- 7-2009 | permalink

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Getting Through It With Help

She's "worn to the bone." Her "head is spinning." She says she "doesn't want to lose John, but yet sometimes, I can't wait for it to be over." That's how Sasha agonized over her situation yesterday.

Did you feel your stomach tighten? Did that overwhelming emotion of dread creep back into your head? I felt it when I read Sasha's comment. Any of us who have walked in those shoes feel her helplessness.

Sometimes, Death knocks on the door and then steps back. But while it lingers, it causes such anguish in the heart. There were hours when I looked at Leroy and wondered, did I do enough? Did I push him too much? Should I keep trying
now, or is it better for him to slip away under a blanket of morphine, free from the pain?

All the fighting, the treatments, the surgeries, the scans. The cancer had worn down that mighty strength. And that's when the cracks in my armor started to show, too.

Sasha, you are exhausted and you're hurt. You put everything you had into this fight, too, and this nasty disease will still take John's life. How can that be?

For as long as I thought I could do it alone, there finally came a time when I realized I needed some help. Feeling your words, you are there, now. This community is always here to give you support from a distance. If we could spare you this pain, we would. But you need someone to help pull back those covers. John still needs you. It's a very hard time.

Hospice, family, friends. You can't do it alone.

But you can do it.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 01- 6-2009 | permalink

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A Reminder That Keeps Me Connected

I'm constantly looking for "connections" to Leroy. I haven't lost it. I'm not expecting to find notes on a foggy mirror or an empty gallon of milk in the refrigerator. Just some gentle reminders that keep him close.

After almost 25 years together, there were times when one of us would be thinking something and the other one would say it. We could finish each other's sentences. So now it's especially nice when something triggers a flashback.

I've always loved orchids. When we lived in Miami, we had many varieties scattered around the house. Leroy would bring them home as gifts and they flourished.

Foolishly, I thought I had the touch to keep them blooming and beautiful. It wasn't me at all. It was hot and humid in Miami. The perfect environment to grow orchids.

So when we moved north to Maryland, it became apparent, quickly, that my orchids would suffer, curl up, and end up in the mulch pile. But Leroy would bring me another one, encouraging me to try again and hope for better results.

Gradually, I found a formula that worked. This is orchid spiking time, when the plants stretch out their new stems and begin to wake-up. The first of many of those Leroy plants has buds, and this morning, a new flower is beginning to open.

His words of encouragement paid off. And I have a wonderful reminder that keeps me connected.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 01- 5-2009 | permalink

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'Calm' And 'Flexible'

There are so many ways to start fresh. We've said goodbye to 2008 and greeted the new year.

Among other things, I've decided to paint a few rooms. It's such a labor-intensive chore. Before the painter strokes the walls, I'm clearing the way by carefully removing all the pieces of our two lives that have gathered on shelves over the years.

Every picture has a story. Almost every item comes from somewhere that was a story on Nightline or, in my case, NBC News. A good producer always makes time for good shopping.

So there I was, remembering trips to the Middle East, past Olympics, even old hurricanes. And then it came time to unplug the neons. Two neon lights I had made for Leroy the year we remodeled this house. One said "calm" and the other said "flexible."

He kept reminding me to "stay calm and flexible" during the construction. Not so easy to do. We were promised we'd be moved in by Thanksgiving. That year we ate pumpkin pie sitting on a blanket on a cold cement slab with no windows or doors. Not my idea of being moved-in. You get the picture. Leroy unwrapped those neons that Christmas morning and I can still hear him laughing.

"Calm" and "flexible." Good advice then. Good advice now.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 01- 2-2009 | permalink

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Fight On, It's A New Day

Grab a glass. It's New Year's Eve. We need to toast all cancer warriors. All of us wear the armor.

To those of you who look to 2009 and see a continued struggle, resolve to keep fighting. Tomorrow is not only a new year, but it's a new day. A day when all you've put into living with cancer could pay off. A new drug, a new treatment ... it's got to happen. This could be the year. Fight on. Hold on. Please.

Life-givers, beware. You've had a long, hard year. I wish I could tell you there will be room for a nap in the new year. But not in cancer world. There will be new tears, a few new wrinkles, and definitely a few new gray hairs. But you've also learned a lot. Take this knowledge and use it. Stay involved in the fight. Be the voice of your loved ones. Watch over them and challenge those doctors.

And what about the rest of us who are still standing after seeing the worst of what cancer can do? We've lost huge pieces of our hearts. What does the new year hold for us? Maybe we carefully begin to remove some of that armor. See what's happening in the rest of the world -- outside cancer world. We lived there once. If I remember correctly, it had a lot to offer.

Happy New Year, everyone. Here's to a better year ahead.

There's no blog tomorrow because of the holiday. We'll be back on Friday.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 12-31-2008 | permalink

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Cancer Didn't Take Leroy's Spirit

Where were we this time last year? We had the routine down. Knew all about chemo, scans, radiation.

That nasty staph infection that almost killed Leroy overshadowed his cancer for a while. In fact, we were just getting back to the beast a year ago this week. Those Hopkins commutes resumed with some regularity. I swear I was starting to recognize some of the big rig trucks and their drivers on I-95. The new scans showed new spread, but also some signs of tumors shrinking.

There was still plenty of hope in our hearts and plans to be made. It was always "a life worth living." Leroy was looking forward to this year's holiday season, when he would be walking better, feeling stronger, and able to tackle the malls. He was thinking we would, once again, be sitting at a table at our favorite restaurant for New Year's Eve.

But the year would reveal itself with a different plan in mind.

Cancer may have taken Leroy from me, but I will not allow it to take away his spirit. On New Year's Eve, I will raise a glass to the Big Guy. At the canal, sitting on a tree stump among the oaks.

Table for one. I'll have the champagne, please.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 12-30-2008 | permalink

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Reviewing The Year Works Best

So how did everyone do this long holiday weekend?

For those of us who were experiencing a "first" without their loved one, it wasn't easy, was it?

We all got the advice. Start new traditions. Make new memories. Surround yourself with family and friends. Well, at least I tried some of that advice. And it worked when I was in the moment.

But I still felt that other half of me missing when the house emptied out and the rooms went silent again. And I still cried.

So I decided to take some of my own advice. Remember holidays of the past. The healthy years, when cancer didn't get in the way.

For me, that worked better. I saw a strong Leroy. In-charge and in-command of the season... Celebrating with friends. Laughing out loud and living life. Oh, did he live life, especially around holidays.

I guess we all have to do what works best for us. This is such an individual journey. I figure I'm half-way through now. New Year's eve is just around the corner.

Any and all suggestions are welcomed. But rewinding back over the years might work best for me again.

And I know, no matter what, I'm still going to cry.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 12-29-2008 | permalink

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Symbols Of Life And Death

Life around this house is so precious. We treated it with kid gloves these past few years, as you know only too well.

And so it was, when I drove into the driveway last night to find one of our beautiful oak trees leaning. The stump seized from the ground and close to a hundred feet of oak, hanging over the garage.

The only thing that stopped it was a sister oak that had caught it in the Y of two strong branches. There was nothing to do except hope. Hope that the healthy tree was strong enough to shoulder the sick tree until morning, when the experts would come to take it down.

Leroy and I chose this neighborhood because of its trees. Sturdy oaks, poplars, cherry trees surround this house. They have given us shade during the hot, humid summers. Beauty in the fall and even in the winter, when they stand like sticks against the harsh elements, they are symbols of life against all odds.

They are just like us. They get sick, too. On the outside, this tree looked fine, but
at its roots a disease was killing it from the inside. When the tree people sawed through its trunk, the sap, its life's blood, poured out. The face of the trunk exposed showed the spots of decay.

I'm sure tree doctors, don't call it tree cancer. There's probably a very fancy name for what was killing this oak. But that's what it looked like to me. And I know cancer when I see it.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 12-26-2008 | permalink

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A Different Christmas

This would be the morning when the words "last minute" really mean "last minute." Christmas Eve.

Running to the mall for one last gift. And then there's what I call "combat" shopping at the grocery store. Leroy would get tagged for that task. I'd be in the kitchen. I'd forget something as basic as whipping cream for the pies. He'd always say, "OK, this is it... the last trip to the store."

I couldn't blame him, it really was an awful errand. We were lucky enough to gather close friends around the dinner table... Christmas Eve and Christmas night. Gifts were opened on Christmas morning. Wonderful memories of the two of us sitting on the floor at the foot of the tree. A big fire in the fireplace and Christmas carols filled the house.

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." How many times have I sung along to that holiday standard, never really listening to the words? Until this year.

"Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow."

It's a different Christmas. The fates were not kind. There'll still be a lot of last minute things to do today. But it's just not as much fun without Leroy.

And one thing's for sure, if I've forgotten something this year, tough. I'm not going to the grocery store.

Wishing you all a wonderful holiday. Enjoy your family and friends. There won't be a blog tomorrow because of the holiday. We'll be back on Friday.

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 12-24-2008 | permalink

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