Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts

Monday, November 7, 2016

Beautiful Grief

It was an especially busy day in the office. I was helping my colleague set up for an in-office Back to School product sale for employees. Of course, communications ended up doing most of the work and our awesome video guys helped us transfer boxes and boxes of product from the loading dock. My colleague was running around making sure everything arrived when I looked down at my phone to see Facebook messages from my Colorado friends (from my life-changing climbing trip with First Descents). I immediately panicked inside because we knew it was scan day for “LPMuffin.” She was one of the amazing souls I met in Colorado and had just fought off her cancer before going on the trip…but we feared it was back. I looked down at my Facebook messages and well, she said it was back, and it was not good…and she likely had it the whole time we were climbing in Colorado. WTF?! It was in her body when she was scaling rocks like a boss?? I felt like I was going to vomit and cry and didn’t know what to do because I had to keep working this event. I sat for a moment and then worked through the fog. I knew this could happen…meeting all of these cancer survivors…it could come back for any one of us. I just didn’t think it would happen so fast.

I went back up to my floor and sat in my cube. I knew I couldn’t hold it together and I just needed someone to be there for me. In the past I would have held it in, but I’ve learned that is just such a bad idea and it’s ok to allow people to be there for you. The thought of crying at work though – ah! I went into my boss’ office and sat in her comfy chair. I was all but three words in when I lost it. She is amazing and immediately shut her door, grabbed me tissues, and positioned me in the chair where people couldn’t see me through the glass window of her office. She let me cry, and she listened. She said something that really made me think about how I have all these people in my life now that had been sick, were sick, and could be sick again.

**

Today. Today I celebrated the life of Larry C. at his funeral. I wrote about Larry C. about a year and a half ago when Dana Farber awarded him volunteer of the year. To say Larry had a profound impact on my life would be an understatement. I got to see Larry just about monthly at our Patient and Family Advisory Council meetings. Although I didn’t spend a lot of time with him, it was so easy to see his soul, and who he was and what he had to give.

Larry was calm, humble, smart, compassionate, thoughtful…I could go on and on. Hearing what his loved ones had to say about him today was so special. What I saw in him each month was what he lived by. Larry loved the outdoors and would go on what most would call crazy camping trips in the dead of winter in the Adirondacks. His friend talked about how Larry never complained about the heat, the cold, the bugs…the challenge. He remembered Larry’s comment that, “Any day outdoors is better than a day in the office.” Everyone smiled and laughed.

Larry cared for his wife when she was ill with cancer for ten years and after she passed he spent his next ten years helping others at Dana Farber. He then, ever so quietly, started his own cancer battle in 2014.

Larry just had such an appreciation. Appreciation for his family, his ability to give back at Dana Farber and to honor his late wife, the outdoors…and just being alive.

Not only did I love Larry for who he was and how you were just drawn to him, but today I reflect on how many gifts he gave me and many others. He touched so many lives. He is the kind of man that makes you want to do better and remind yourself every second of every day that life is beautiful and we must spend our time finding the beauty in it and appreciating it. I can’t help but find the irony in his love for the outdoors and what the outdoors has done for me and so many other First Descents alumni. He was a true angel walking this earth and he is looking down with his infectious smile right now saying in is typical, humble way, I was just doing my job.

As I was walking out of the funeral with two friends/employees of Dana Farber, one of them turned to us and said that Larry wanted his donations directed to our Patient and Family Advisory Council. Well, wow. Of course he did.

**

After I processed that LP Muffin’s cancer was back, my friends and I went into full on support mode and began planning our trip up to Canada. LP Muffin lives her life with such beauty, grace, and adventure. She is a Yogi that travels the world and the way she handled everything was remarkable. She throws fear out the damn window. Today, she is doing extremely well due to a chemo drug with minimal side affects. Her future is unknown, but that hasn’t stopped her from living for one god damn minute.


My life is SO much fuller with LP Muffin and Larry in it. Was there pain when LP Muffin relapsed and when Larry was put to rest today? Yes. Pain, tears, grief…but also abundant gratitude and warmth. They have both changed my life. How lucky am I? How lucky am I at the age of 29 years old to continually be reminded that I need to be a better person, shouldn’t sweat the small stuff, value family and friends, and get out and live! When I am repelling off cliffs in Thailand next month I will have Larry in my heart – and when I get scared I’ll remember what the Rabbi said today at the funeral, “Life is not always about getting to the top, or the summit, we must focus on the journey.”

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

The Place We All Go…

When you are fighting a life-threatening or chronic disease you have to find a way to keep the faith…and that is what everyone around you is coaching you to do. “Stay positive,” or “Keep your chin up,” or “Things will get better,” or “You deserve to be happy.” (Sometimes I want to smack them across the face and say, chill with the positive crap! I need a god damn minute!) But when you see someone you know and love going through hell, and more hell, you think, why do I deserve to be ok?

When my Soul Cycle instructor pushed us more and more tonight and said fight for what you deserve, break through! I pedaled harder and harder, but I could only think of my mom’s friend who is fighting as hard as she possibly can and her cancer just keeps spreading.

Her name is Toni L. and she works with my mom. She is an English teacher at a Junior High and my mom is the school nurse. My mom and her share an extreme bond because of her rare breast cancer and my rare sarcoma. Toni always asks my mom about me and Frank (my tumor), even when she is pale as a ghost and thin as a twig from the chemo. There is no other way to describe Toni other than she is remarkable.

Toni has gone through multiple rounds of chemo and clinical trials; some of which kept the cancer at bay for a while, but she always knew the cancer would eventually outsmart the drugs. That horror became a reality a couple of months ago and the cancer has spread – even into her arm causing her chronic pain. She is now faced with the decision of another round of chemo or a clinical trial. Which will work? If she chooses chemo and it doesn’t work, she may not be eligible for the clinical trial anymore. If she chooses the clinical trial and it doesn’t work she will think she should have gone with the chemo. Impossible decisions.

So as I powered through the last song of my Soul Cycle class, and Sal (my favorite, adorable instructor) yelled at us to break through that wall and fight, I couldn’t help but think, but Toni is fighting the fuck out of life and she is still falling down over and over again.

So how do I keep the faith if wonderful people like Toni are hitting a wall over and over and over again? I really don’t have the answer, but know we all have to just…keep…going. And all I can do for Toni is HOPE and PRAY.


The place we all go…