Category: CTCA

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#LiveLikeMichelle cancer caregiver CTCA grief hospice

Michelle DID Win

Michelle DID win. As I join so many others in grieving the loss of this vivacious, determined, spirited young woman, that is uppermost in my mind. #LiveLikeMichelle….

She started out her life with cancer by blogging about what it was like to face such as horrible diagnosis. Wife, mother of young children, daughter, sister, and friend to so many, Michelle had no intention of allowing cancer to suck the joy out of life. She was going to beat this thing, come hell or high water. You know what? She did.

Too often we hear that people battled cancer and the cancer finally got the upper hand, resulting in death. Too often it sounds like they failed because they were weaker than the disease. The words “brave” and “courageous” can be found in obituaries in every newspaper around the globe. But battling cancer isn’t what makes someone brave or courageous. Battling the demons that stop us from living with cancer is the real test of the soul. We wage war with an enemy that steals our humanity as it marches through the human body. Cancer is a weapon of mass destruction. It terrifies us all with its mighty power, especially when it’s an aggressive, untreatable kind of cancer cell that invades. But that’s not the foe we need to fight, first and foremost.

Cancer cells destroy — that’s true. In lucky times, the right mix of treatments and drugs sometimes halt cancer in its tracks. Then again, cancer can be sneaky. Those cells can hide in the body, only to resurface at the most inopportune times. We never know which way the cells will mutate, or where they might show up next, or whether there’s a treatment that will be effective. That black cloud of uncertainty hangs heavy over the lives of cancer survivors and the people who love them. All that darkness can take its toll on the soul, drowning us in a sea of sorrow for what could have been, what might have been, what never was.

It’s easy to hate cancer, to give in and give up when we first hear that horrible diagnosis, to surrender before we’ve even begun to understand the real enemy. When we allow our fear of cancer to decide how we live our lives, we give up our personal power, self-determination, and above all, our right to choose to live our lives out loud.

Michelle taught me much about personal courage and bravery. Right up to her last few days, she fought hard to remain the wonderful young woman we adored. That mattered to her, even in hospice care. Imagine feeling like you’ve let down the people who love you because you just don’t have the strength, the energy, the power to rise above the cancer any more. You want to go on giving, but you’re just too exhausted to do it.

Michelle DID win because she allowed us to join her on her journey through a war zone where cancer is a weapon of mass destruction. Every time she was knocked down, she stood up. Every time she lost her footing, she got to her knees and then to her feet, dusted herself off, and continued on. Cancer never took that brave, courageous spirit from her. As the power of those destructive cells wreaked their havoc on her body, her spirit grew. Love became more important. Sweet moments mattered more than sorrow, more than hate. There was no such thing as an ordinary day. She chose to make her time on this earth count for something.

Michelle could have hated her life, could have raged against the unfairness of it all. She chose to encourage all of us to grab the light. She picked her path up the mountain, and in doing so, became a wise teacher. Michelle DID win.

None of us who ever had the chance to meet this dynamic, determined, dedicated young woman will ever be the same because we choose to remember and honor her. She lives on through us, through the things we learned vicariously as she battled to save her psyche and her soul against all odds. No virtual reality, no video game ever produced a fighter quite like Michelle. She was the real deal. She was a valiant warrior in a too-real war that doesn’t have a reset button.

And she did save her psyche, staying focused on what mattered even as doubt pushed at the door. She did rescue her soul from that dark, endless night by growing in power as a human being. She did become extraordinary, this woman with the soul of a warrior — not because she fought a battle with cancer, but because she lived in spite of cancer. Who would she be when the dust settled? That mattered.

Too often we see death as failure. We forget that each of us is mortal, that with every passing day we move closer to the end of our own lives. Sometimes we’re so focused on that, we forget to live. We squander our hours in meaningless activities. We hold back our unspoken thoughts, hold in our deeply felt emotions, hold ourselves off from really engaging in life. Michelle made those moments count. She was “working the room” everywhere she went, networking with hearts and minds on her crusade to make life matter. Michelle DID win.

Cancer never took the love out of her. She worked hard to make sure her children would be safe after her beautiful spirit departed from her body. She wanted her family to go on believing in sunshine, blue skies, and good times. She wanted everyone to thrive in her absence, not fall apart. You could see it in the things she chose to do. She was building memories to keep the hearts above the high water mark, to keep the souls she loved swimming when the tears came. And they have come.

Yes, Michelle’s spirit departed, but she is everywhere around us. She’s there, in the random act of a kindness shown by a stranger, in a hearty laugh that reminds us we have this glorious moment in time, in an outstretched hand when the heart is heavy. We need to recognize that same wonderful spirit in others and appreciate it, because that’s what Michelle taught us to do.

Michelle DID win. Our lives are richer for those beautiful smiles, the touching words, the moments that she chose goodness over evil, kindness over cruelty, generosity over stinginess. The world was a better place because she lived. The light she brought to this earth grew brighter as her spirit faced an enemy that wielded cancer as a weapon of mass destruction. The real enemy in the cancer fight is apathy. There was nothing dispassionate about Michelle. She cared about everything and everyone.

As we now go on facing life without Michelle, we should not think we have lost that beautiful spirit. She sowed the seeds in each of us who yielded to her joie de vivre. Her own light faded when she left us, but she lit our souls with her fiery passion for love, for life. It is up to us to feed that flame, to carry on that legacy in the way we choose to live. We honor her by remembering that apathy, disinterest, and dispassion are the real enemy. Live in the moment. Embrace love and let it fill your soul with its warmth. Seek joy and don’t stop until you find it. Demand all this from yourself and don’t take no for an answer. Burn brightly, as Michelle did, even in the face of that horrible weapon of mass destruction, cancer. Don’t let your light go out. Long after you are gone, your spirit will live, as Michelle’s does, in all the people whose lives you touch.

Rest in peace, dear Michelle. And thank you for being you.

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#LiveLikeMichelle colon cancer CTCA CTCA Blogger Summit hospice Michelle Whitehead Hastings

Why You Should #LiveLikeMichelle

In the real world, people come and go with blinders on. We all too often ignore the good and the bad that we see every day. We go about our daily lives automatically and we let ourselves get bogged down by petty problems, disagreements, and obstacles. We’re really only half alive to what is in front of us and we never really reach out for that brass ring. And then cancer shows up and life as we know it is turned upside down. Nothing will ever be the same.

The first time I set eyes on Michelle Whitehead Hastings, I was sitting in a conference room at the Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Goodyear, Arizona, at a Blogger Summit. It was hard not to notice her. She was electric, from the wild streak of color in her hair to her bright clothing to her effervescent personality. When she walked into the room, she was hard to ignore because she exuded life. Everywhere she went, there was a crackle of electricity. That’s because she’s a real live wire.

In conversations we shared here and there during the weekend, one thing leapt out at me. Michelle was passionate about living life. Forget the cancer for a moment. Forget the grueling treatments and the side effects. Forget the debilitating effect it has on the survivor and the family. If there was one thing Michelle was determined to do it was to live despite cancer. That #&*+= cancer wasn’t going to spoil the party!

I went home with the memory of this vibrant, funny, warm woman etched on my mind and I never stopped caring. That’s because Michelle’s greatest strength is her ability to get everyone on the bus for a memorable ride through life.

Over the last few years, I’ve continued to follow her Facebook postings through the ups and downs she’s faced, through the trips to Las Vegas, the country music concerts, the renewal of her marriage vows with her adored husband, and the adventures with her kids. And through it all, I’ve known one thing. Michelle really does know how to live.

Even in hospice care, she knows how to live. She asked folks not to start mourning her yet, because she’s still busy working on her Bucket list. (Actually, studies have shown that people who enter hospice care tend to live longer than those who don’t, and they experience a higher quality of life — Michelle seems determined to prove that premise right.) And what a Bucket list it is!

What spurred me to write about Michelle and tell you that you should follow her lead? It was a photo she posted the other day. She and her brothers were off to the tattoo parlor to get matching tattoos that would remind them of their love of apple season. It was to be “a little” tattoo, but when I saw the apple blossoms sprouting along each of those arms…well, how can anyone forget to remember their good times with Michelle? I imagined that session with the tattoo artist as the Whitehead brothers gamely held out their arms — oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. And from what I understand from a subsequent posting, there’s also going to be a mother-daughter tattoo session. I can’t wait to find out what design they choose. I’m already looking forward to the photos.

It’s hard to say no to Michelle when she has a plan; all she has to do is flash that vibrant smile. But a tattoo is hardly a requirement for remembering her. That’s because she’s put her indelible mark on a lot of us in so many ways, whether you’ve known her for decades or, like me, you met her briefly. She’s made a point of staying connected to everyone. Michelle is constantly reaching out and giving back. I’ve admired the way she let people help her get things done. So many people shy away from this, despite their needs, but not Michelle. She welcomes the support, and in doing so, she gives the best support of all to the people who love her. Suddenly, helping Michelle becomes an opportunity to join the circle of life.

The photos have been wonderful. We’ve lived vicariously as Michelle has taken this tumultuous journey filled highs and lows. I’ve seen the formal portraits, the action shots, the candid pictures that capture the moments that matter to her as she updates her status. She might be reclining in a chair as she cheers on Syracuse (“Bleed Orange!”), or in the middle of a pumpkin patch on a farm visit with her kids, or arm in arm with the man she so loves as they say “I do” one more time. With each new image, my heart grows a little bigger and my eyes see more of what makes life worth living.

One of my favorite photos Michelle is at Goofy’s Kitchen, cuddling up to the Disney icon. Most adults might feel silly posing with a cartoon character. Not Michelle. You can tell she’s loving every minute of it as she leans in close to that canine snout and smiles broadly for the camera. When I saw that, I almost believed for just a second or two, that Goofy was real.

But it wasn’t just Michelle who experienced that unbridled Disney delight. A second photo showed the group of girlfriends huddled together as happiness enveloped them like a big, fat hug on their special visit.Years from now, that mother with the baby in her arms will pull that photo out of a drawer and remember her adventures with Michelle. She will look at her nearly grown child and feel that warm, happy glow again. That’s because she was touched by someone special, someone who taught her to never stop grabbing for the good side of life. She will #LiveLikeMichelle and she’ll pass that enthusiasm onto her lucky child.

That’s the magic of Michelle. She doesn’t leap tall buildings in a single bound or fly faster than a speeding bullet. In her world, people matter, the good moments have real power, and love makes it all bearable.

Wherever darkness finds you, turn on the light inside yourself by believing the good matters more than the bad. Those are the threads that weave the blanket of the soul that keep us warm when the challenges of life seem insurmountable. Point your spirit towards the sun, away from the storm, and seek shelter in those little nooks and crannies where humans are kind to each other and love is the tender of the realm. That’s how you #LiveLikeMichelle.

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advanced breast cancer breast cancer cancer caregiver cancer treatment Cancer Treatment Centers of America CTCA CTCA Blogger Summit Goodyear AZ service dogs Western Regional Medical Center

Cancer Treatment Centers of America Honors Service Dog Pee Dee

I admit it. I’m a people watcher. I like to get the feel of a place by observing the comings and goings of people. At the moment, I’m at the Cancer Treatment Centers of America Bloggers’ Summit at the Western Regional Medical Center in Goodyear, Arizona. During a break in the many presentations involving cancer technologies, I stepped out into the lobby, sat down, and just watched the passing parade. I wasn’t expecting pooches in service “uniforms”.

I had already found the two fish tanks flanking a big fireplace on my first visit. Fish gotta swim and they do here. The bright colors attract the eye and draw you in. I always like to see signs of life in a hospital, and that was a positive impression of the Western Regional Medical Center in my book.

 

But yesterday, on my second day here, I saw something I never thought I would see — a retirement party for a dog. Pee Dee, the chocolate lab, was hanging up his hat as a service dog at the hospital.

All the other dogs were there for the party, some frisky and tail-wagging, others gently awaiting your approach. It was a nice bunch of pups, and it was clear from the reactions of the people passing by that these dogs were well-loved, by patients, by family members, by staff.

I watched all the hands come out to greet the dogs. Some people stopped and bent down to say hi. Others gave an affectionate pat or a little scratch behind the ear in passing. The ladies who accompanied the service dogs were cheerful and kind, too. It gave the lobby of the hospital a friendly feel. This is no cold, sterile medical environment. And all that was before the party started.

It was held outside, in the courtyard, a space filled with barbecue grills and benches, just off the sports area, where a putting green awaits. (The current LPGA champs have nothing to fear — it took about 50 shots to make my only hole-in-one of the day….) There was cake, a small ceremony, and lots of chuckles and cheers for Pee Dee.

Why do I write about a retirement party for a service dog? That’s what you get at the Cancer Treatment Centers of America facility here in the Arizona desert. People who stop for ten minutes to thank a pup who has cheered patients through the cancer treatment process. It’s about connecting to life, to the little things we can and should celebrate together. Warm hands, warm hearts help cancer patients get through the challenges of cancer treatment, but they also get the staff through, too.

That’s why I like to just sit sometimes and observe, especially when I’m in a new place. I don’t want people to tell me what it’s like to be there. I want to see it for myself. I want to watch what patients and family members do, to see their reactions to a place. Are they comfortable or miserable? You can see cancer patients in the garden, sitting at tables in the shade, enjoying the day, or wheeled out in their wheelchairs by loved ones. This doesn’t feel like a hospital, even though I know it is. It’s a place where patients can take a break and get outside on a pleasant day — Arizona has a lot of those at this time of the year. It’s a place where even a dog like Pee Dee gets his due.

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cancer caregiver cancer management Cancer Treatment Centers of America caregiver education CTCA perception personality

What Roles Do Personality and Perception Play in Cancer Treatment?

Is cancer a case of mind over matter? Can we engage one to more positively affect the other? And if so, what roles do personality and perception play in cancer treatment?

Here I am in sunny Goodyear, Arizona, at a Bloggers’ Summit sponsored by Cancer Treatment Centers of America. The weather is fabulous, especially given all the chilly winds and white snow I left behind. Last night I sat out under the stars with the group of fellow bloggers, almost all of them cancer survivors. We laughed for hours, sharing stories. There wasn’t a Shrinking Violet or Vinny among them. Each has his or her own story about cancer, and in coming together, it was an engaging banquet of food for thought.

Which makes me wonder about the power of personality and perception in fighting cancer. We can’t really change personality. People are who and what they are. Each of us sees the world in unique ways, and once you understand where we’re coming from, you can adjust your message to be better heard. But it’s never one-size-fits-all. Men and women tend to process information differently,but within that construct, individuals are sometimes stronger in some areas than others. When I say the word “cancer”, your perception of the disease is based on your own personal experiences with people you know who have battled it, but also on what you know about the public information that’s out there. What pieces of the puzzle are you missing? What you don’t know can and will hurt you and your loved one, especially if you’re wrong in your perceptions.

As a cancer caregiver, you can’t change the personality of your loved one, nor should you, but will an understanding of him or her help you provide the right kind of support? It makes me wonder if there should be a different approach to cancer for a Type A personality than for a Type B personality. Maybe people who are go-getters will do better if they are armed with information they can use to motivate themselves — statistics, goals, and your basic business plan. That’s just how they roll in real life and we should respect that. Maybe people who are go-with-the-flow-ers will do better if they are allowed to function in the way that enables them to do what works for them — forget about the details and the Devil, and just live in the moment. That’s how they do things and there’s nothing wrong with that. To each his own.

Over and over again last night, I heard a similar theme. Cancer patients and survivors get treated differently than people without. Right there, you know that’s going to have an impact on life. We aren’t at the point where we ignore cancer once it’s happened. It’s like stink on a skunk, trailing behind the cancer patient. One whiff and folks disappear. The last thing anyone wants is to feel people pulling away emotionally, mentally, and sometimes even physically. That’s a lot of stress to live with when you’re already trying to get back to the new “normal”.

What does it take to rise above that and engage the mind in the healing process? If you think about the role the brain plays for the human body, it’s really a head game in many ways. The head operates the rest of the body systems, so tapping into that energy and directing it in positive ways should make a difference, shouldn’t it? If it’s the head making the decisions about what happens, how does the brain move through the decision-making process to the best advantage?

We sometimes seem to forget the brain is divided into two hemispheres, right and left. Concrete and creative. That’s where perception comes into play. Perception is information-based.  And when there’s a lack of information, the creative brain will fill in the blanks. That’s sometimes dangerous, because we can begin to believe things that just aren’t true. The body will act on the misperception. If you input more information and expand the knowledge of a subject, the brain will adapt to accommodate the change, but only when there is recognition things have changed. The mind has to send a signal — “Hey, guys! We’ve got new intelligence on this thing. Look it over and make adjustments.” The more you know that is evidenced-based, the more rational the decision-making. You can actually change a person’s emotions by changing his or her perception of the subject. All the more reason to make a positive effort. So, what does happen when you have strong personalities that can weather the storm and see beyond it? That’s when your mind works with your body to overcome the challenge that is cancer. You have to believe that what you’re facing is “doable”, and even more importantly, worth doing.

The people I sat with last night are the living proof the battle is worth it. Vibrant and alive are two words that describe them. But their cancer experiences surely played a role in awakening the personality to take on the fight. For several people, it seemed that cancer put a focus on their lives they didn’t have before. They no longer waste time on people who waste life. They take more chances because they want the chances they take to mean something. They live a far more intense experience because of cancer, not in spite of it. Maybe they would have done the same if their lives had been challenged by some other life-transforming moments, because it would have given the personality a chance to strut its stuff. In that sense, it’s the challenges, not the cancer, that benefited the individuals.

Maybe the more we understand how cancer works, the better we can teach cancer management. We can begin to understand that cancer didn’t just appear over night. It took it’s time setting up shop in the body, hiding out, lurking. When the concrete mind begins to pay attention to new symptoms, when the creative mind begins to believe it’s possible to change the outcome, won’t the mind be better able to direct the body to focus on what’s important at each moment in time, whether it’s taking the difficult cancer treatment that will make a difference or learning to relax and not let the fear fill your head?

A house divided can’t stand. The structure, the foundation, will eventually fall. A cancer patient at war with his creative and concrete minds will be struggling to understand what the immediate picture is and what the future picture can be. What you believe about cancer is every bit as important as the scans, blood tests, and other measures of the disease within the body. If your perception is based on a fantasy, that cancer can be wished away magically, the concrete mind isn’t likely to buy that claim. If it’s based on evidence that what is done can and will have a more positive outcome, the creative mind can begin to look for ways to work with the concrete mind to get the body what it really needs. Does the personality help to determine how that perception plays inside the head?

As cancer treatments have evolved, our understanding of the types of effective medications, radiology, and surgery have also expanded. We know cancer isn’t one disease — there are hundreds of types of cancer. The more we hone how well specific treatments work on specific cancers, the better the outcome. I believe the same is true for the cancer survivor’s mind. The more we understand individual differences in human beings and how their brains process information on cancer, the better we can help and support our loved ones to fully engage according to their ability to perceive the disease. Some people are always going to want to know every little detail, others are not. When we respect our loved ones’ comfort zones and apply our care to fit their real needs, we’re giving them the real support that will help them face this foe.