In our situation, Chris (my wife) has the majority of her treatment behind her and we are down to one infusion every month and daily doses of an oral chemotherapy drug to keep her brain metastasis in check.  Life is pretty much normal, except for occasional bouts of fatigue.

Why then do we have MORE stress than others if everything is going so well?  I can pretty much narrow it down to two categories: energy and social.  Let me explain.

Part of the holidays for everyone is all of the parties and other celebrations.  Several friends' parties, a party for her Woman's Club, another for my motorcycle club.  Then there are the family get-togethers... we just don't have the energy for all of them.

The first challenge we face with all of these invitations is finding the energy to go.  Both of us are pretty limited in terms of energy, and we just can't do everything we'd like to do.  Yet we feel we will be letting people down if we say no, and the last thing we want to do is disappoint the people that care enough to invite us to their parties.

Then, when we do go to an event, everyone wants to talk about cancer.  There is the inevitable cocked head and expression of deep concern, "How ARE you?"  At one meeting of her club she tried to head that one off by standing in front of the group and telling them that everything was going well and they shouldn't worry about her.  Afterwards, several of the women came up to her and said (with the same cocked head and expression of deep concern), "How are you, REALLY?"

They also want to tell us about their friends and relatives that have/had cancer, the latest cancer treatments, an article that they saw, etc.

There seems to be no getting around it; people want to talk about it.  We don't.  Chris is sick of being sick, sick of thinking about it, and sick of talking about it.  She just wants to be normal.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to be throwing people under the bus.  These are well-meaning people that care about us; it's just that they don't understand the pressure that their questions create.  It is very stressful to tell the same stories, explain the drugs and treatments, and listen to their stories and "advice" over and over again.

We really do have the power to protect ourselves, but we get hung up on other people's feelings.  Now is your time to take care of yourself, so do what you have to do.  As long as you do it politely, people will understand.

Every cancer clinic has their own unique personality.  I'm lucky that I get to see a lot of them as I travel around the country for speaking engagements.

I visited a clinic in Kingston, PA near the end of October, and the reception and waiting areas were decorated to the nines for Halloween.  It was complete with candy everywhere (I'm a sucker for mini-Reeses!), colorful leaves and arrangements, masks, goblins, and other assorted symbols of fall in general and Halloween in particular.  It was wonderful.  When I commented on it I was told that each month they decorate differently.

At 5:30 am we smelled smoke. A couple of hours later we got the call - evacuate! This is the last thing you want to hear when you live in the mountains of Southern California.

We loaded up both cars with important things, clothes, and supplies for three dogs, two cats, and a parrot, and then they were all loaded into the car as well.

Now, the moment of truth: would the horses get into the trailer?  After months of trying unsuccessfully to train them, would they sense the urgency and cooperate?  Every time we've had to put them in the trailer someone (either them or us) ended up bleeding: would this be different?  ...NAH!

After about 45 minutes of trying to load them into the trailer, Chris suggested that we trot them to the sheriff station about a mile away for some help. So, I tied them to the back of the trailer and drove off with them trotting behind.  Chris followed and we used the family radios to keep track of how they were doing.

A neighbor drove by slowly and yelled through his open window, "I've got an extra trailer and truck if you need it!"  (He thought we had two horses in the trailer plus the two trotting behind.)

I yelled back, "They won't get into this one!" 

We all pulled into a parking lot and managed to get them in (and yes, the neighbor ended up with a bloody finger)... and off we went to a boarding ranch in a rural community off the mountain.

Our mission is to reduce stress and restore hope for cancer patients and their families. 

We do this by sharing our unique perspective in order to bring a new sense of empowerment to patients and caregivers, and a new level of understanding to their entire support system of medical professionals, friends, family, and support organizations.

Oh... and by laughing, too! 

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