We Are Not Helpless

What happens when the strongest person you know suddenly gets hurt? What if there’s nothing you can do…no bully to yell at, no Band-Aid to stick on?  What if you suddenly have to become your rock’s rock?

Many people will tell you that I am obsessed with my mom.  Not even just my best friends...I’m pretty sure that anyone who has spent more than three hours with me could tell you that I love my mom more than any living or nonliving thing on this world.  Our relationship has long transcended the mother-daughter border and carefully made its way into best friendship.  This story, however, goes back to a time when she was more my mom in the traditional sense. Mom with a capital M.  Invincible, strong, untouchable. Or so I thought.

It all started on a day which was disguised by the regularity of 7th grade life in suburbia.  I was fully immersed in a world of the cool girl lunch table, middle school crushes with long hair and skater shoes, the advance dance company, my nerdy-but-awesome magnet school, and my beloved summer swim team.  My mom, the strongest and most constant presence in my life, sat me down to tell me that she had been diagnosed with a particularly invasive case of a rare gynecological cancer.  Everything changed.  I was suddenly forced to realize that my mom was not only mom with a capital M, but was a human being who could be threatened by the same forces as anyone else.  My mom, the glue that held my family, my life, and my world together, suddenly needed us to do the same for her.  

The worst part of my mom’s cancer was the fear that came with it.  Only several hundred cases of her type of cancer have been recorded in the world, and we could not find a doctor within driving distance who had treated it before.  My mom’s treatment plan became a two-fold journey of trying to get her better as doctors tried to learn more about the disease along the way.  The only thing they seemed to be sure of was the high likeliness of spreading and recurrence.  It was finally decided that the best way to treat my mom’s case was to surgically remove it...something that sounds not-so-fun and is even less fun than it sounds.  My mom underwent invasive surgery and a difficult recovery process.  My dad, my little sister, and I did what we could to help her feel happy and comfortable as she made her way back to health.  

Though it was a while ago, I still very much remember the strong waves of helplessness that came over me each time we brought my mom to a test, biopsy, or check-up.  I am a person who likes to be in control, and this inability to control the hurt that was affecting my mom, the best human in the world, was completely infuriating.  The world wanted me to go on with life - with the lunch table, with the boys, and the dancing, and the school work, and the swimming - while the person I looked up to most was suffering with something I could not fix.

After a more recent bout with Melanoma, my mom is now officially cancer-free.  And yet, as I have grown-up and more of these untouchable, invincible rocks in my life have been affected by cancer, this feeling of helplessness remains.  What could I do about my neighbor (but more like family member) Mrs. Judy being diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer?  What could I say to my best friend as she laid teary-eyed in my bed explaining that her mom’s doctor had found a lump?

This helplessness is why I Relay.  Because you know what?  We aren’t helpless.  Relay For Life gives us a beautiful and effective way to bond with survivors, patients, and caregivers as we take steps each day toward finding a cure.  It gives us an opportunity to use the resources and networks we have to put money in the right hands and to make a real difference.  We, regular human beings - not doctors or researchers or experts, have the ability to be the catalysts for programs that research rare cancers like my mom’s and find a cure.  We have the ability to help people with cancer all over the world get support through programs such as the Hope Lodge which houses people undergoing treatment far from home, Road to Recovery which drives patients to treatments, Look Good...Feel Better which provides wigs for patients going through chemotherapy, and Reach to Recovery which helps patients seek support from survivors.  

   

What happens when the strongest person you know suddenly gets hurt?  You recognize the problem, and you fight back. In 2015, 1,658,370 new cases will be diagnosed in the US, and 589,430 people will die from cancer.

 

 It keeps happening, and I won’t stand for it. 

 I won’t sit down and let it happen.

 I refuse.

 I will fight back.   

With RelayLOVE,

Katelyn Saks

Mission & Outreach Committee

Mission Monday: Look Good...Feel Better

      One of the most devastating effects of cancer can be something outside of the physical tole the chemotherapy, radiation, and other treatments - people watch their body begin to change without their control. They may undergo hair loss or a mastectomy. Learning to adjust and become comfortable and confident with these new changes can be a challenge for many men and women. 

I remember working with a veterinarian the summer between my first and second year of colleges who was facing breast cancer for the second time. She made the decision to have a mastectomy because she knew it was the best way to combat the disease - but this did not make the decision any easier. She is one of the most confident and strong women I have met - and watching her struggle not only to make the decision but how to cope afterwards broke my heart. But she, like many other men and women, are incredibly strong and have an amazing support system through programs like Look Good...Feel Better. 

Look Good...Feel Better was established in 1989 by the Personal Care Products Council with the goal of teaching men and women how to use make-up, wigs, nail polish, and other beauty products to build up their confidence following any cancer treatments.  The organization trains hairstylists, wig experts, estheticians ("a person who is knowledgeable about the nature and appreciation of beauty, especially in art" for those of you like me who had know idea what that meant), make up artists, and other cosmetology professors and makes them readily available to cancer patients in salons. So basically a beauty salon? How cool is that?  

They say a picture is worth a 1,000 words so does that make a video worth 10,000? I'd say so.  To understand the full grasp and importance of this program check out this video about Brenda. She's 51 years old, so roughly the same age as most our parents, and facing bilateral breast cancer.  Such a simple thing like make-up and a wig can make such a difference. For you girls out there, think about how fun it was to dress up for prom (or prah-em as my high school called it)?! 

That's the important message behind this and all of the American Cancer Society's programs - these are real programs affecting real people. While Relay and ACS are national programs that are run by thousands of people, the goal is to benefit individuals - people's moms, dads, sisters, brothers, children. And to show them that they are heard, supported, and loved by an incredible number of people. 

With RelayLOVE,

Maria Wnorowski

We Are A Movement

I’ve never been one to do much with my hair, so when I showed up to school one day with a drastic haircut, people took notice. I’ve never been one to wear much jewelry either, so when I began showing up to school with a diamond-encrusted gold ring, people took notice. I made these changes because admittedly, I wanted attention, but not for myself.

I absolutely loved it when someone complimented me on my hair (or lack thereof) because I could tell them that mailing 12 inches of my mane was the biggest “Am-I-really-doing-this” moment of my life, but it was so worth it because someone was going to have a wig that made him or herself feel more confident.

I loved to hear from others about their enthusiasm for the idea and how they wanted to donate their own hair (hello bob haircut trend 2013). I also loved (and still love) when people comment on my ring so I can tell them about my aunt who fought pancreatic cancer for over two years, despite the fact that she was told she had two months at the time of diagnosis, and how much I admired her.

Even though I love bringing attention to the fight against cancer, I also hate it. Because of cancer I didn’t get to graduate with my childhood best friend by my side. My aunt can’t fulfill the promise she made to me the last time I saw her: that she would be at my wedding, years down the road. Because of cancer I and millions of other people worry, hurt, and cry over loved ones. But I don’t contemplate passively over how cancer has affected my life. I have too much hope for that.

I, along with so many others, relay because we share the same ridiculously large amount of hope. We channel that hope into the belief that we will finish the fight against cancer. We refuse to be apathetic in a society that has the tools and means to alleviate suffering and find a cure. We look forward to the days where future generations to come won’t ever have to shed tears because someone they know died of cancer. We are a movement.

This movement has so many positive influences, big and small. For me, Relay for Life has blessed me with a family that I wouldn’t trade for the world. For others, specifically cancer patients, Relay for Life funds cancer research, the creation of wigs, transportation for cancer patients, lodges for patients who live great distances, support groups and caregivers, and so much more.

Cancer sucks. Join me and millions of other relayers so we can create a cancer-free world.

With RelayLOVE,

Christina Kim

Team Engagement Committee