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My friend Julie Levine had everything I lacked: A charmed childhood, beautiful kids. I might have envied her had she not been the nicest person I ever met. And, therefore, a magnet for cancer. (On an Internet bulletin board I once frequented, we joked that compassion and a zest for living were risk factors.) Julie is eight years younger than me, so I assumed she would someday speak at my funeral. Especially once I received a diagnosis of stage III ovarian cancer in 2001. Julie came to my hospital room. She took me to chemo. She and her mother came to my house bearing brisket, fudgy peanut ...
On display during the State of the Union speech was the vacant chair that would have been occupied by Ariz. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords, who could not attend because she was in a hospital recovering from a bullet wound to the head. Recuperation could take as long as a year. The empty chair got to everyone, myself included. What got to me even more was the photograph of her husband, Mark Kelly, holding her hand in the hospital as the couple watched the speech on television. I could imagine what might be on the left side of that cropped photo. Nine years ago I lay in a hospital bed with a ...
The post you are reading is not the way this project was supposed to begin. My friend Julie and I had talked about a project with the working title: "Coupla Sick Chicks" (with apologies to the 1981 play, "A Coupla White Chicks Sitting Around Talking"). But we had no concrete plans. That's what the meeting last Wednesday in a Kansas coffee shop was all about. I'm a nine-year survivor of stage III ovarian cancer, and my longtime friend Julie Levine is also a cancer survivor. I only brought the camera to show Julie how it works. I brought a yellow legal pad. I was just going to take notes this ...
(Nov. 23) -- If you're looking for a way to spice up Thanksgiving dinner, a little herb can do the trick -- or a lot if you're medical marijuana activist Kim Twolan. She's a self-proclaimed cannabis cook who believes pot is just the ticket for cancer patients who have lost their appetite or are nauseous due to chemotherapy treatments. It's personal for the San Diego-based schwag chef. When Twolan was 19, she suffered ovarian cancer and turned to marijuana to help keep up her appetite. Now in her mid-40s, she recently survived a bout with breast cancer as well. Chris Lee, St. Louis ...
It seems like yesterday. It seems like a hundred years ago. After my friend Linda Elizondo died of cancer last week, her sister-in-law sent me an old photograph which, she thought, captured Lindy's joie de vivre. "A magical life cut short," Lindy's sister-in-law wrote, "but lived on her own fierce terms." I had taken the picture 35 years ago. I don't remember taking it. Not a very natural pose. (Is it any wonder I didn't last long in photojournalism?) What is Lindy doing? What's with the unopened bottle of wine leaning against her leg? The answers are lost to history. Except for the color ...
The late summer teal dusk of September is leaving us. You did know that September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month, and that teal is the ribbon color, didn't you? And of course you saw the woman with Teal Toes. Oh I guess not, since she's in Chicago, and you're in Cincinnati. But you must have seen the teal fountains around town. They're everywhere! Why, entire cities have colored their oceanfronts teal in honor of ovarian cancer survivors. Coastal cities aside, teal has a long way to go to catch up with pink. It's almost October, aka "pink nausea" in some circles. October is Breast ...
Nine years ago on the morning of September 11, 2001, I turned on the TV to check the weather. My default station, CNN, broadcast a huge gaping hole in the World Trade Center, with black smoke billowing out. I yelled, "Robert, come here! Something horrible has happened." If I recall correctly, we were watching live TV as the tower collapsed. My husband and I knew we were experiencing the biggest story of our lives. Robert is a journalist, and he headed off to work at The Kansas City Star. Around noon a nurse called me. "How about surgery tomorrow?" Four weeks earlier, a scan showed a mass ...
All day Friday, I was dragging around the house, and I put this in my Facebook status line: "Starting from zero, got nothin' to lose." That's from the 1988 hit song "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman. The first time I listened to this tale of poverty and longing, I cried. If ever there was an anthem for my sad, white-trash childhood, this was it. It would not be appropriate to use a public forum to detail my late father's crimes against humanity, so here's the Cliff Notes version: Today he probably would have gone to jail, but times being what they were, instead he got electroshock ...
As some may have heard, Chelsea Clinton is getting married on Saturday in a multimillion-dollar wedding. People have said the event is excessive, especially in these tough times. Others, the U.K. Guardian's, Paul Harris, observe, after the family scandals she endured, Chelsea deserves an extraordinary wedding, and still others react with a yawn. For a few, the yawn morphs into a sneer. In the comment section of the Guardian, Harris was upbraided for his sycophancy: "You write informed pieces about Detroit and then end up writing this dreadful crap about the Clinton daughter. Were you hoping ...
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