lunhs cancer

And humbled. And stunned. And grateful. And relieved. I spent a big chunk of February scrambling to find a way to fund the wonderfully intense clinical trial that I am so thankful to be in. I have received some of the kindest rejections of my life, from organizations that truly want to help patients, but for various reasons were not able to help me. We were getting closer to March, and I hadn�t booked any of my March flights yet. I was starting to worry. So when my dear friend Lily (the same one who gifted me the  ruby slippers ) brought up the idea of doing a gofundme, I initially balked. I was sure I could find a foundation to cover the expense. But the days marched on, and still nothing. Finally, I gave her my blessing to start it. And HOLY MOLY! If you are curious to see what I�m taking about, you can check it out here . I am so moved by the response. What more can you really want from life than to love and be loved? To put some good out into the world? To have a life well live...

Imagine a room filled with 150 people who have lung cancer, many of whom are stage 4. Do you envision wheelchairs and oxygen tanks? Frailty and sadness? Then, my friend, you clearly did not attend the 5 th Annual LUNGevity HOPE Summit in Washington DC this past weekend. Every year, the LUNGevity Foundation hosts a weekend-long conference for lung cancer survivors and caregivers (you are a "survivor" the day you are diagnosed with cancer). In its first year, 17 survivors attended. This year, that number was 150. The weekend began with a welcome reception Friday night, where I finally got to meet the people who have become my online support community over the past two years. Saturday and Sunday consisted of sessions on topics of interest to people in the lung cancer community � nutrition, surgery, clinical trials, advocacy, and more. Saturday night's dinner was at a lovely outdoor restaurant called the Old Angler's Inn , which provided delicious food and drink as well...

There is a constant clock ticking in my mind. Tick...tick...tick.... "Living on borrowed time...." I've passed my expiration date. Tick...tick...tick.... The thing that scares me most, that threatens to tear me away from my family lives inside my body. Tick...tick...tick.... One day my luck's gonna run out. Tick...tick...tick.... Ya know what sucks? Having your future torn away from you when you were just digging into your career. When things were looking so bright. Awards rolling in, people taking notice. When you have a house full of small children counting on you. (They're still counting on me.) So what do you do? You dust yourself off, take stock of what you still CAN do, where you still CAN play an important role, what dreams you STILL dare to dream. My cancer is well controlled right now. Right now I have time. Tick...tick...tick... Right now I have time to plan for my family's future. To get things in place to take care of them when I'm gone. (D...

An interview with Mark Maynard, in which I discuss beer, cancer, Yes And, life choices, improv, and facing challenges head on. Pointless Brewery & Theatre to explore the intersection of brewing and improv

My port had stopped working, so they needed to start an I.V. The first nurse had blown two veins and had called in a replacement who was on her way to blowing a third. In the grand scheme of things, a few needle pokes were nothing. I had been through worse before, and there would be much harder days ahead. But in that moment, it was too much. In that moment, the months of treatment, the endless hospitalization, the constant nausea, and the helplessness were completely overwhelming.  I burst out crying. I can't do this anymore. My sister, who had been sitting in the chair next to my hospital bed, stood up and walked over to me. She cracked a smile. "Remember that day when we were little kids and we were swimming at the lake, playing Jaws?" I stopped crying and looked at her, confused. She went on to recount in exquisite detail a day years earlier when we had been swimming and had gotten our legs stuck in the weeds and muck at the bottom of the lake and I had thought that a...

Last night renewed my admiration for caregivers. My husband and I were getting ready for bed when we heard a strange noise coming from our daughters' room. We ran downstairs and found one of the three-year-olds standing outside her room, mouth hanging open and making a horrible gagging, coughing sound. At first we thought she was throwing up, but then she kept trying to suck in air, and it almost sounded like she was choking. "Can you breathe?" She shook her head and tears rolled down her cheeks. My husband donned his superhero cape while I grabbed her coat and hat. He whisked her into the car. I scraped the ice off the windshield while he buckled her into the car seat. And they were off. I stood there and watched them drive away, feeling totally helpless. How do caregivers do this?!? Her sister had woken up, so that snapped me back to my senses. Okay. Focus. Get her sister back to sleep. Run through nightmare scenarios in my head. Check on the kids. Feel like throwing up...

Some of these ingredients may seem hard to find, especially if you are newly diagnosed. But with a little searching (and soul searching), you can create something wonderful to sustain yourself through the hard times. First, you will need three heaping cups of support . This support can come in a variety flavors, and many blend well together. The first cup includes your close circle : spouse, parents, family, friends, relatives, neighbors, coworkers, religious groups, community groups. These people are all around you, and are the first to jump in. Since too much support can spoil the recipe, it helps to use a website like Lotsa Helping Hands , or an organized friend to coordinate your support. The second cup is your cancer people . It begins with the medical staff, such as your doctors, nurses and social workers. I have found it enormously helpful to include the support of other people with cancer, because they know what I am going through both emotionally and physically and can serve ...