I just experienced what I hope will be my last chemotherapy treatment for a long, long time. (Forever would be even better.)  Some cancers creep up slowly; others pounce.  Mine swept in like a hungry tiger while I was looking the other way, bemused by commonplace things like thinning hair, loss of memory and just generally growing older. 

Chemo resolved all those complaints without so much as an apology.  It took ALL my hair, left me in a brain fog that made me drop everything I pick up, and it gave me the sudden desire to live to become a little old lady! Funny how that works.

But what has been most shocking was finding that a life threatening illness can be the catalyst for more blessings than you can ever imagine. One of the most serendipitous moments I’ve experienced was last weekend when my community celebrated its annual Relay for Life.  People of all ages came out to honor their loved ones who have died of cancer and to show support for those who are surviving and fighting the disease. 

During the opening “walk of survivors,” I stumbled around the track in awe that perfect strangers would come out on a rainy blustery Friday evening to cheer on a lot of people they may not even know.  I had participated before, but never with such a personal stake in the value of the event which annually raises millions of dollars to fight cancer.  My compliments and appreciation to my friends, Brian and Diane, and all the volunteers and workers from the American Cancer Society who spent months recruiting teams and planning a flawless event.

At dawn today, I sat out on my back porch and breathed in the combined fragrance of maturing mint and rosemary while making a list of all the good things that have occurred as a direct result of illness.  I won’t go into all the minor details - like losing unwanted pounds without a diet, getting a great head of hair (which I hang on the bedpost over night), and  falling in love with those heretofore dreaded green vegetables. The latter is thanks to Margaret Ann Wood, a restaurateur and longtime friend, who introduced me to Goya seasonings which can make the lowly canned green bean taste like the nectar of the Gods. 

The Big C also gave me a bizarre sense of humor.  I still chuckle at the look on that truck driver’s face when I was pumping gas during high winds which blew my wig right off my head and carried it across the parking lot.  He stared in dismay, probably confused by the smiley face a friend had drawn with magic marker on the BACK of my head.  I also got a kick out of the long black “Cher” wig my son sent me as a joke.  One morning I went door to door pretending to be an encyclopedia salesperson and not one neighbor recognized me.  Come on people, who sells encyclopedias these days?  

The greatest gift has been the deeper relationships formed with my family and friends who I often took for granted; the absolutely religious experience of feeling good again after being under the weather;  learning not to judge others who may be suffering from their own set of stressors; and the realization that material things will never provide lasting fulfillment.  That lesson was way overdue, but I’m a slow learner and like they say, it takes what it takes.

Someone once said that the hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings, but when we do, they seem to multiply.  Oh, and here’s something else to look forward to.  I heard mosquitoes will take one bite out of a chemo patient and fly off to wash their mouths out with soap, spitting all the way.  Ah, Ha! 

Emily Jones is a retired journalist who edits a blog site for bouncing baby boomers who are entering retirement.  She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in November, 2012.  Check out her blog at deludeddiva.com.

Emily Jones is:  1. Hilarious.  2. Incisive.  3. Guru of her own website, deludeddiva.com, where she self-describes as a "retired journalist and master piddler who is slogging through the new world of culinary delights, gardening prowess and holding old age at bay at all costs."  As the Deluded Diva, Emily speaks to "bouncing baby boomers facing their second adulthood" and often facing the fight of their lives in the form of cancer.

Well Again is lucky enough to bring you a column from Emily Jones twice a month until she gets tired of us, which I hope will be never.

Emily's Well Again column debuts tomorrow.  Read, enjoy, share, and congratulate Emily on kicking cancer to the curb!

Hey my people,
Seamus and I duet on his sheep toy. He gets it in his jaws and shoves it against my knee till it squeaks. Then I answer--reach in on either side of his jaws, squeak the toy, draw back, and don't get chomped. Then he squeaks, then I squeak, and so on.
Might sound dull, but what with the teeth, it gets pretty lively.
Not till this week did I realize that Seamus was also using his sheep as a pillow. Does this count as multitasking?

Hey my people,

Thinking about sequestration today. Honestly, is that any kind of name for policy? The word is so meaningless that it continues to resist explanation even as it's grounding airplanes and leaving seniors meal-less and wheel-less—and of course shutting down cancer research.

I've been reading a site called PhysBizTech. (Who knew?) You might want to check out Deborah Cornell's piece on how the sequester stands to damage that most precious asset for a cancer patient: the hope that if we can just hold out, there'll be better treatments before too long.

Here's the link: http://bit.ly/11BfDgd.

Cornell writes, "The federal government is the largest funder of cancer research, and the sequester threatens to cut this funding by almost 23 percent in real purchasing power."

These 23 percent cuts fall just when we're about to solve the jigsaw puzzle.

Cornell explains: "Many grants today focus on basic cellular biology to understand what causes cancer, what allows cancer to spread from one body part to another, which components to target for treatment, genetic mutations that characterize certain cancers...and so on. These are targeted toward finding more effective ways of killing the cancer without killing the patient."

What hurts most is what Cornell writes next: "Unless the large number of people who are affected by cancer ― as patients, family caregivers, healthcare providers, employers and friends ― stand up and tell Congress to get serious about cancer research funding, affected families will be left with few options and little hope."

Austerity is supposed to harm everybody equally, but we know that's not true. In practice, there is nothing so easy as cutting funding for invisible sick people. So what do we do? Are we supposed to storm Washington with an army of people with pic lines and port-o-caths and bandannas? Yes, I think we are. In fact, I suggest we wear our hospital gowns open at the back. Just so we can twirl around from time to time and show Congress the same respect they've shown us.

Thanks to jannoon028 and freedigitalphotos.net for the IV image.

It's not easy to clear off a desk here at Chez Well Again.
And when you do, you're apt to find a big yellow dog snoozing on top.

Roger Ebert is my hero not just because he was so mighty in the face of cancer. I loved him because as a writer he ENGAGED with what came his way--love, art, death, and everything between. As a critic, Ebert was just what I hope to be, exacting but generous too. If he hated a film, he said so; but he also wished the filmmaker better luck next time. When it came to cancer, Ebert was the finest joycatcher I ever saw. Cancer took his voice; he re-created it. Cancer took his jaw. He kept his smile.

Hey Roger. Thanks for everything. Let's dance.

Hey my people, I dare you to check out this video and then tell me you feel hopeless in the face of cancer. Israeli scientists are already perfecting the tech breakthroughs to heal us. As the tourist slogan says: Israel. Who knew?

Bring on the dog shame police--- our dog has a sneaker addiction. From time to time this gives him kind of a Hannibal Lecter vibe as he buries his snout down the nearest Adidas.

Hey my people, check out what spring brought. Light, bougainvillea, Prius: Magic!

Hey my people,

Considering the toxicity of cancer treatment, it seems like common sense that cancer survivors might be vulnerable to heart disease afterward. New research from Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center confirms the obvious: Survivors are at higher risk of cardiovascular disease than the general adult population.

What's surprising in the study is how few respondents were cautioned while undergoing cancer treatment that cardiovascular problems might follow.

The Wake Forest study surveyed 1,582 participants who had survived breast, prostate, colorectal or gynecologic cancers four to 14 years after diagnosis. Participants were asked to describe their cardiovascular disease risk factors-- smoking, body mass index, physical inactivity, hypertension, diabetes--and to report on their discussions with their health care providers about diet, exercise, smoking, and lifestyle change assistance.

Among the survivors, heart-hostile health issues turned out to be sadly common: 62 percent were overweight or obese, 55 percent reported hypertension, 20.7 percent reported diabetes, 18.1 percent were inactive, and 5.1 percent were current smokers.

Nearly a third of respondents who carry one or more risk factors reported that they had not been counseled on how to get healthier after cancer treatment.

This may be true, but I wonder whether they may have been offered more counseling than they heard. For me at least, hearing cancer mentioned in relation to myself still produces a roaring in my ears that drowns out anything factual. Especially if i'm being advised to do anything I don't want to do.

(Based on an April 17 report from RTT News)