Hello Amy!

Hello Amy,

I saw your Aunt Laura this evening (she's my husband's nutrition counselor). She said you and your mother have been reading this blog. I hope you've found an entry or two that make you laugh, give you some insight, or maybe just reinforced for you that the way you're feeling or the things you're thinking about are usual and customary for someone who is fighting the fight.

Amy, I hope you'll call me if you ever want to talk. I don't have mystical insight, I don't know the answers to all of the questions. I just know what it's like to be where you are right now.

The most important thing I learned on my journey was that the hard part of my journey came to an end. There was a very real moment in time when I stopped sliding down and started climbing again. And on the days when you feel low and sad and as unhappy as you can imagine you could ever be, I hope that in some small place in your heart you know that you'll start climbing again.

The fatigue will easy. Your hair will grow back. The aches in your bones will disappear. Until that day comes there are some things you need to do.

Nap when you are tired. Ponder when your mind needs to be busy. Take yourself for a walk when you have the energy. Find someone to listen when you need to talk. Find someone who will sit with you and be silent when you need quiet company. Insist on being left alone when you need solitude. Cry if you need to. It's OK.

Refuse to spend time with people who give you nothing but negative energy. Tell them to take their war stories and go away. Tell them you don't have the time, energy, or interest. People like that aren't really your friends.

Most important is to laugh when you can. Take notes (start a blog!) so you can remember these days and these feelings. Believe me, you won't remember the little things when the calendar puts enough time between today and months down the road.

I started my blog because I didn't want to forget any of the feelings. I want to be able to go back and read the entries. They remind me about how far I've come and they make me understand how uniquely personal this thing really is.

Cancer doesn't define me, Amy. It's not what I am. It's part of my past, just a part, and it's not what you are. You are Amy first, wonderful and stronger than something that's just that... something. It's not what makes you Amy.

So, give me a call if you ever want to talk.

Always remember, you're beautiful.

Penny