Awareness, A Cause, Moral Support

The Circus was on one this morning.

Like, more than usual on one.

Like walking around and calling each other "sibling" instead of using names.

I might have been on one too because when I did Casidee's hair for crazy hair day I swooped her bangs up and asked her if I could safety pin them.

I'm surprised any of us made it out of the house with our pants on.  Or with matching shoes.

Today I have a special guest blogger that would like to introduce you to a subject that is near and dear to her heart.  Every now and then I post things about cancer, whether it be that I have parents who have fought various types of cancer and won, or that I'm fighting the need to be tested for the breast cancer gene but the test is so insanely expensive and not covered by insurance (hello, preventative), or about various causes to raise money for childhood cancer, or about Tayler's desire to raise money for cancer.  That's a tear jerker, that one.  You can read it here.

I'd like to introduce you to Heather.  I don't know what it is about hearing stories of cancer, and realizing how many, many different types there are, but when Heather reached out to me, to introduce me to her story and her cause, I just knew I had to let her tell us all about it.

I wonder if someday I'm going to need help from others of my own, and so I feel such a need to help where I can.

I hope you'll take a minute to read Heather's story that she wrote for us here, and then go check out her blog HERE.  Also her husband's blog HERE has a different perspective that I loved reading.   Because when it comes down to it, we all need each other.  Even if it's just moral support.

I am 43 and a mother to a quirky little 7 year old, Lily. She is my only child, and my whole world. When Lily was just 3 1/2 months old, I was diagnosed with Mesothelioma; a type of cancer that kills 90-95% of those who have it. As I’m sure you can imagine, the first thing that came to mind when I was diagnosed was my baby girl and how I wasn’t going to be able to watch her grow up. After intense treatment and recovery, I'm still here almost 7 years later and cancer free!  My journey with cancer was a terrifying one and I'd like to turn my pain into purpose and become someone that other people can look to for guidance, inspiration, and hope in situations like my own. 

I'm trying to raise awareness of this horrible, little known cancer that is such a deadly killer (and sadly, 100% preventable).



  My Story: Mesothelioma at 36

The three words nobody wants to hear are you have cancer."

Yet, there it was, coming at me during what otherwise was the best time of my life.  I had just become a mother 3 1/2 months earlier.  A doctor gave me the diagnosis.  I had malignant pleural mesothelioma, which is an asbestos exposure-related form of cancer.  What has shocked people the most when I tell them about my diagnosis is that not only has asbestos not been banned, but that I got this disease from secondary exposure.

When I was a little girl my father worked construction.  Apparently, asbestos was in the drywall and other materials he worked with doing drywall taping, mudding and sanding.  He wasn't aware of it at the time, but millions of microscopic asbestos fibers were in the dust that covered his clothes and jacket that he wore home.  They even fell into the car he drove.

I was 36 years old when I was diagnosed.  It was rare at the time to find someone so young with malignant pleural mesothelioma because this disease was at first associated with older men who spent their careers either on military ships or as mechanics, electricians and plumbers, or in the heating trade.  But as time progressed doctors discovered that secondary exposure had sickened the wives and, like me, the children of those men.  They breathed in the innocent looking white dust particles that followed them home from work, caked to their clothes that were subsequently put in with the rest of the family's laundry.  Little children jumped into their daddy's arms when he came home from work.  Many children, like me, put on their father's jackets - without a clue what toxic substances were on those clothes.

Teachers and secretaries who worked in schools that had asbestos have also developed this form of cancer, as have the children who attended those schools.  And of course there are young adults who grew up playing in the vermiculite insulation that was peppered with asbestos in the attics of millions of homes across the country.  These young people, just starting their lives and their own families, are having to put everything else on hold to fight this horrible disease.

The great news is that a growing percentage of patients, young and old, are beating this disease as more advances in the treatment of mesothelioma are being made.  A cancer diagnosis at any age is still more than devastating, but I am hopeful.  Many of us who have mesothelioma have built a community of support for each other.  we cry with each other and we celebrate the successes.

More needs to be done to cure this disease, though, and that's why I continue to share my story.  My hope is that this brings more awareness to this form of cancer that is striking the young and old alike, and to offer hope to mesothelioma patients.

bake sale for fighting children's cancer

Sometimes I don't win mother of the year.

More than just sometimes.

Tayler woke up one Saturday morning and informed me that she was fighting cancer today.

Okay...

Tayler does this.  When she brought home her snow cone maker (here) she started printing out fliers to come to our house and buy a snow cone for $1 to save the animals.  She put pictures of various endangered species on it.

I nixed it.  I wasn't comfortable with our address being plastered all over everywhere for strangers to show up at our house and give us money for a cause I didn't know how to support.  Does that make me a bad mom?  At first I didn't think so.  I was doing my duty to keep my family safe from strangers.  And I'm not at all comfortable with the idea of selling people things.

So on this Saturday, when Tayler told me she was fighting cancer, I didn't take her too seriously. 

"Oh yeah?  How are you going to do that?"

"I'm gonig to help with a bake sale."

"Is this a group that's putting this on?  Is it a part of something?"

"Me and my friends were talking about it at school and we want to do it."

Suddenly my walls went up.  If it wasn't part of an organization...
"Is an adult helping you?"

"No..."

And then I got mean.  Except, in my protective mother's eyes, I wasn't being mean, I was making a point.

"Okay, say I let you help with this bake sale (I was still doubting that it was actually even going to happen if there was no adult or organization to make it "real"), what are you going to do with the money?  How exactly is this going to help fight cancer?"

"I don't know..."

"Tay, I can't let you go." It was supposed to be at a boy's house.  A boy I didn't know.  No one was helping them.  Where were they going to get baked items to sell?  Who was going to watch them as they tried to sell things to strangers?  It was a fiasco and I didn't want my daughter to be out in it.

Tayler ran upstairs to her room where I heard deep heartfelt sobs coming from her. 

What point was it, exactly, that I had been trying to make?

Because I don't think I made it.

West, who had been sitting in the next room looked at me as I walked down the hall, on my way to Tayler.

"She's just trying to do something good," he says.

Having the pride issues that I have I replied, "but it isn't real.  It's not a real function.  And even if they do manage to earn money... where's it going to go?  Who's going to take care of it?  I'm not going to support adding money to another persons wallet because they let their kid have a bake sale in their front yard and then didn't know what to do with it."

I went up stairs where I found sobbing Tayler sitting with her back against her dresser, knees up to her chest, head on knees.

"Tay..."

What do I say?  I was struggling with my walls and inner issues and with the fact that this little girl just wanted to help those who were sick.

Finally I said, "Tay, if you really want to help fight cancer then you and I can sit down at the computer and google until we find a real way to help.  We'll find something that you can be a part of."

She numbly nodded. 

I went downstairs, not feeling any better about myself, when there was a knock at the door.

A little group of boys was on the porch asking for Tayler.  It was time for the bake sale.  I looked at that group of boys and thought, if all of these kids are pulling together to do this, then how can I say that  it's not real?

Tayler went to the bake sale. 

And me, being the horrible mother I am for breaking her heart, along with West, bagged up a bunch of cookies that we had just purchased at Costco that morning from the bakery and dropped them off at the bake sale.   Where I found a small group of third graders, including Tayler and Sean, who were so excited by every car that pulled over.  Tayler was all smiles as I handed her the bag of cookies.

"Thanks Mom!"  And she began to arrange them on the table that a much better parent than myself had set up for them.

  West and I went grocery shopping and I made sure I got change when I paid.  On our way home we stopped by that bake sale again, and bought our cookies back.

I learned a lesson that day.

A lesson that taught me that just because I'm older, doesn't mean I'm wiser. 

A lesson that taught me that just because she's nine, doesn't mean that she doesn't have plans for this thing called life.

And those plans are big.  And good.

Shouldn't I, as her mom, be the one cheering her on, instead of sending her sobbing to her room?

When Tayler came home she was all smiles.

"Mom!  We made $42.50!"  And then she handed me a heavy grocery sack. 

"What's this?"

"It's the money, Mom.  You said you would google and help me to find a way to help."

Those words hung heavy in the air for me.  I had expected the "hosting" parents to do, or not do, something with the money.  And yet here Tayler was, handing it to me with high hopes.  Man that girl's heart is solid gold.

I can't even begin to tell you how foolish I feel for fighting her on this, and I was determined to make it up to her.  So I emailed my friend Jennie, who's daughter is in remission from cancer, and I asked her what I could do with this money, specifically for fighting childhood cancer, being as these kids were the ones who pulled all of this together.

Right now Jennie is earning money for her Cure Search Walk for Children's Cancer team.  She gave me THIS LINK to donate to her team where "the money (raised) will fund and support collaborative research to find a cure for all cancers affecting children."

Jennie also shared this video with me to show to Tayler.



Tayler is donating to Cure Search.

Can you?

blogging for fishes

I still have some events in life that I need to get thrown up on here, but I'm going to take a break from that today.

I'm feeling so emotional and I'm going to tell you why.

The Man and I have often mentioned how very grateful we are that out of 6 kids, they are all healthy.  Sure we have small issues, bed wetting, ear aches far past that of the normal infant and toddler range, missing permanent teeth (they were never formed in the gums.  We have now become the orthodontists favorite family)...

But really, we are all healthy.  I've been thinking about it a lot the past year or two actually.  It all started with this cute little girl, Izzy.  I sort of knew her parents in high school and thanks to the wonderful world that is facebook, am in cyber contact with her mom, Jennie.  What an amazing, stong woman she is.

I watched on facebook and on her blog about Izzy's cancer (here) as they made their way through that time. 

It broke my heart.

I donated to her charity's and even made cake coupons for auctions.  (I doubt they helped very much, but I tried).

Jennie is still an amazing advocate for children's cancer.  Recently on facebook she posted about a family who needed to find a bone marrow match for their young daughter's second bought with cancer.  Can you even imagine how it would feel to find that you're not a match for your child and can't help them? You can read about Millie's ongoing battle on their blog (here).

When Jennie spread the word for Millie's family about a bone marrow drive at Primary Children's hospital to search for a match for Millie, she said, "if this were your child, would you want people to show up?"  To which I answered yes.  Yes.  If it were my child I would be hoping and praying with every ounce of my being that people would show up.

So West and I did, and we're now in the bone marrow registry.  I really wanted to be a match for Millie, but I guess I wasn't.

It catches me in the gut how much I need to help these causes that are fighting for children who are fighting for their lives.  How wonderful would it be to find a way to relieve their pain?

I'm writing this post because today, as I was checking out my recipe blogs (oh thank heavens for recipe blogs.  My husband thinks I'm a good cook because of them)  I found two blogs posting on the exact same topic.

And if you haven't yet guessed, it's about two children from the same family, dealing with pain and fighting for their lives.  They have a rare gene dysfunction called Leaky SCID (Severe Combined Immune Deficiency).  Here is their story in their own words:



Let's help this family be able to afford the medical treatments for their girls.  Help me help them.  I'm asking you to go to The Sister's Cafe here and read the story.  Or Mel's Kitchen Cafe here. A cookbook compiled of recipes from 40+ bloggers is being sold to raise money for the Fish family. 

Both The Sister's Cafe and Mel's Kitchen Cafe are giving it away, but let's all buy a copy.  The host of lemonpoppy cake did this project for this family and you can buy the book here from her site. You can buy the actual printed book, or buy it as an e-book.  And spread the word.  Because I don't feel like I do enough for these kids who need help.  These families who need relief.

You can follow the Fish family's fight on their blog about it here.

That's a lot of linking, I know, but I don't know what else to do.  Except buy a book.  Which I did.  And spread the word.  How blessed are we to have healthy families? 

In the words of Jennie, how would we be feeling if we were doing this for our own child?