Official Rest Day
Well, I decided to share a special part of my medical journey with everyone today as today is special. The best part about a blog is that you can either take the time to read it, or you can simply click off of it. It's up to you ....

Milestones Matter
Today wasn’t just another birthday for me, it was a milestone. FIFTY years today. And, I have to say that, as Travis Tritt sings “it’s a great day to be alive, I know the sun’s still shining when I close my eyes”. Five decades, a strong faith, six primary cancers, a terrific family, loyal friends, amazing physicians, a loyal dog, one truly wonderful husband and yes, a head full of gray hair seem to sum it all up.

This is the first time that I have thought about a birthday milestones in years. The last major milestone for me was turning 30. 1987 was a year “all about me”. May 7th, 1987, I was diagnosed with Hodgkins, a lymphatic disease with the news of thyroid cancer a few weeks later. Got the double whammy. When I evaluated my treatment options including treatment here in Dallas, I quickly decided to go to the Hodgkins mecca of the world, Stanford University Hospital in California.

I was single and living in Richardson, Texas at the time and my brother Gil flew with me to Palo Alto, California to help me get situated with my doctors, my living arrangements and the next step of my cancer journey. (I had just completed a battery of tests and a staging laparotomy which included a 10 inch incision on my abdomen, the relocation of my ovaries and the loss of my spleen.) I spent the first 9 weeks with a friend of Gil’s who was, at the time trying to establish a new business. So, I was mostly on my own in unfamiliar territory waging my very personal battle with cancer.

Since neither of my brothers, or my friends, or me more than anyone, wanted to give my cancer diagnosis news to my mom in Alexandria, VA, I wrote mom a letter. Gil, my wonderful brother, left me behind in Palo Alto and flew to Alexandria, VA to deliver my hand written letter. (You have to remember that back in those days, people died of cancer; very few ever went into “remission” including my own grandmother).

After my first round of 9 weeks of radiation, I got a merciful two week break (I flew back to Dallas for that hoping for some normalcy and familiarity) before starting my next 10 week round of radiation at Stanford. When I returned to Palo Alto, I stayed with Bob and Rita Conner, a wonderful, compassionate older couple not far from the hospital (this was arranged through a special program at Stanford). This enabled me to be closer to the hospital and also gave me a better home environment. At that time, there was virtually no temporary housing for patients who had traveled from far away. My choice was either to stay in a hotel where I had to go out to eat regardless of whether I was able to physically or to rent an apartment, rent furniture, equip the kitchen, etc. for my brief stay. I can tell you that I was not up to the task to fly out there and then do the latter.

Luckily, the local churches filled that gap. Many of the then multi-million dollar homeowners readily took in cancer patients like me to fill that void. Bob and Rita Conner were my angels at that time. I was so taken back that strangers would take me in their own home during my life crisis. Their kids were long gone and off raising children of their own. Bob loved for me to visit his music room where I listened to all kinds of music with him and Rita loved her garden which I enjoyed immensely. I remember many days when the radiation treatments literally zapped my energy and I’d come “home” to nap on the glider in the garden. I did have to drive my rental car to the hospital and back daily though. I also was responsible for my own cooking daily too; something that was a challenge given my grueling treatment regimine. Bob and Rita kept a journal in their special guest room and I treasured the times I’d read the stories of all of the other patients who had stayed with them over the years.

I had only been back maybe two weeks when I turned the dreaded 30. Here I was single, alone, driving myself back and forth to Stanford daily and staying with strangers when I hit the big 30; a huge milestone in anyone’s life. Bob & Rita somehow found out about my birthday, had a special dinner for me and also a few gifts. Here I was half way across the country, fighting for my life and here were these strangers caring about me. I decided then and there never to celebrate a specific birthday, but to treasure the gift of every new day. Birthdays were indeed just a way of keeping count.

The last half of my final treatment plan at Stanford was a very special time for me. Stanford had made a ground lease for special patient housing and Mr. William Hewlett of Hewlett-Packard gave $7 million dollars to construct H.O.M.E. (Housing Of Medical Emergencies). The Junior League of Palo Alto raised the funds to furnish the new facility including hiring an interior decorator. I have to say it was an elegant condo type facility that made my cancer journey so much easier. I was one of the first residents of HOME and was, naturally at the grand opening. I vividly recall Mr. Hewlett taking about 20 minutes to visit with me personally at the event. He had donated the money to building the facility in memory of his first wife who died of cancer; Flora Lamsen Hewlett. Mr. Hewlett was a gracious and very normal man. I only wish I had taken the time to write a thank you to him personally for the time he devoted to me that evening. I suppose I was too engrossed in my own battle back then to do that.

HOME was within walking distance of the hospital and the units were beautifully appointed and totally equipped. Best of all, admission to HOME was not based on ability to pay, it was based purely on medical necessity and boy did I ever need. Finally, I had total privacy, could cook when I wasn’t up to going out to eat and could walk to my treatments. That was huge to say the least.

So, even though today is just another day, it really is a milestone. Had you asked me back then if I’d ever see fifty, I would have danced around that question. Although I still take life one day at a time, I can see 60 on the horizon.

You may wonder how I spent today. Well, I went to Baylor to attend a very special celebration for Ovarian Cancer. And, no, I have not had ovarian cancer, but I have gotten to know Becky Teter, the editor of TORCH (Tales of Remarkable Courage & Hope) and survivor of ovarian cancer. She is so uplifting and positive…. Everyone should have a Becky Teter in their life.

Then, for dinner, Richard treated me to Kirby’s Steakhouse. It is where we had our first date almost 11 years ago and also where we frequently celebrate our wedding anniversaries. (I suppose I should mention that we’re also investors in the Kirby’s Steakhouses, so we not only enjoy it, but we support our own cause!)

Life is truly good ~ celebrate daily…

Lois