Shoes of Patience -- Jack W.

It always has been the case in my life that when good fortune takes aim, it materializes in the form of a person. So it is with Jack W., who has been a mentor and co-worker to me for nearly eight years. His days revolve around the efficient and expert management of rugged stuff: machinery, grime, and sweat -- lots of sweat. It is in this industrial landscape of a "man's world" -- a harsh backdrop of enormous steel tanks and grease and pipes and valves -- where Jack has taught me to hold my own. While I only can guess at the true extent of patience he has expended in that eight-year-long process, I know the depth of my gratitude for it.

Jack is devoted to his family, his job, golf, and the Baltimore Ravens. He battles arthritis in his knees, his back, and a shoulder; yet, regardless of the very physical demands of his work, he perseveres through pain and discomfort with a perpetual sense of humor and a precise measure of no-nonsense professionalism. As co-workers, we've shared successes and disappointments; we've laughed with and at each other; we've lamented to and about each other; but, in good times and bad, Jack's patient support has not failed during my learning process.

To Jack W., my mentor and friend: tomorrow I will travel three miles in support of finding a cure for arthritis. If you don't mind, I'd like to borrow your shoes while I run. I know they will not fit my feet, because they already overflow with patience and perseverance. But, I will carry them with me. With every stride from beginning to end, they will remind me to focus on your example, and to hope for relief in our lifetimes -- relief that will allow you to climb the hill at work with pain-free knees, to gather up your grandchildren with a pain-free back, and to swing a golf club with a pain-free shoulder.

Here's to the next mile!

Oh, and Jack ... one more thing ... Go, STEELERS!

These Shoes Are Blue!

According to the Arthritis Foundation, the Center for Disease Control (CDC) estimates that 46.4 million Americans suffer from some form of doctor-diagnosed arthritis. In 2003-2005, that meant that 21.6% of American adults had doctor-diagnosed arthritis. With an aging population, the numbers are expected only to increase.

It's a relentless, miserable ache in the shoulder that keeps a grandfather from playing baseball with his grandson. It's a merciless pain in the fingers that keep your elderly neighbor from being able to open medication bottles, or even grasp a spoon tightly. It becomes disabling, and it's a devastating disease for families who have children that are diagnosed with arthritis, forever altering the manner in which those children experience life.

Slip on your favorite shoes and participate in a Jingle Bell Run or Walk in your area, or donate today to support finding improved treatments . . . yes, even a cure for arthritis. After all, you could be one of the next patients in that 21.6% of Americans who are diagnosed with the disease.

Just click on the symbol to donate!

I'll be looking for some worthy shoes to borrow for this run, so don't forget to leave a comment about someone you know who suffers from arthritis. I'll write a tribute, take his or her name with me across the finish line, and make a donation in that person's honor.

Here's to the next mile!

Weapons In the Fight Against Breast Cancer

While researching the material for many of these tributes, I've discovered a multitude of useful weapons in the fight against breast cancer, either for patients or for those who wish to donate to end the war. So, before moving forward to the next worthy cause, I wanted to list those resources in a single post.

Prevention, Early Detection, and Treatment

Prevention and early detection cannot be overemphasized. GET A MAMMOGRAM. The American Cancer Society (ACS) recommends that women age 40 and older should have a screening mammogram every year, and should continue to do so for as long as they are in good health. Click here to begin learning about the procedure and the important role mammograms play in the early detection of breast cancer.

If mammogram costs are a hindrance to you, call your local health department, or the American Cancer Society at 1-800-227-2345 for information about facilities in your area that perform the tests at low or no cost. The National Breast and Cervical Cancer Early Detection Program (NBCCEDP) also provides breast and cervical cancer early detection testing to women without health insurance for free or at very little cost. To learn more about this program, please contact the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) at 1-800-CDC INFO (1-800-232-4636) or visit their Web site at www.cdc.gov/cancer.

To find out how to perform a breast self-exam (BSE), go to Komen for the Cure. Or, try out WebMD or About.Com. The American Cancer Society also offers excellent guidance, as does BreastCancer.Org. One last site is worthy of mention because it also offers free shower card reminders. Go to HealthyWomen and download your free card, which was published in April of 2008 by the National Women's health Resource Center, Inc. Or, click on the image below for a larger version, print it out, stash it in a ziplock bag, and hang it in the shower.

But, hey, enough of that serious stuff. Check Your Boobies! No kidding -- that's the name of the organization, whose mission is to ". . . educate women about breast health in a frank, fun, and fear-free manner. [They] are dedicated to the prevention and early detection of Breast Cancer." And, if you're tired of Tupperware or Pampered Chef parties, make sure to take note of the resources and testimonials on this site for planning your very own "CYB Party."

Useful Services

For women who are undergoing treatment for breast cancer, climbing out of bed in the morning can be nearly impossible, let alone trying to clean house. But, Cleaning for a Reason can help with that chore. Go to the site and apply!

Donations

For donors, nearly any of the sites listed above are looking for research funding. But, here's an easy one!

Visit The Breast Cancer Site. On the first page, a button will appear that looks like the one to the left. Click on it. That's all there is to it! Each time the button is clicked, advertisements from site sponsors are displayed. All of the money from these advertisers goes to the site's charity partners, who fund programs to provide mammograms to women in need. How easy is that?

For all you sporty types, one of the most creative fund raising efforts I've seen is sponsored by Major League Baseball Stands Up to Cancer! Go to the site, make a $5 donation, and own a virtual piece of your favorite team's stadium. Donations fund research in the fight against cancer! (Thanks to my dear daughter-in-law, Erin, a die-hard Pirates fan, for sending this one and Cleaning for a Reason!)

If none of these donating strategies appeals to you, have some chocolate! Purchase a bag of Pepperidge Farm® Milano® cookies, and they'll donate 50¢ to Susan G. Komen for the Cure® (up to $50,000).

Breast cancer ... every 69 seconds a woman dies from it. Together, we can fight this devil by using the right weapons! Protect yourself through early detection, donate to research -- go the distance to find the cure!

Here's to the next mile!

Shoes Filled With Dollars -- Jill Haines

When I began to write this series of tributes to breast cancer patients and survivors, I was determined to avoid pleading with readers to make donations to anything. The purpose of my effort, after all, is to highlight the extraordinary characters of regular people who graciously and tenaciously battle the demons of disease and misfortune. Instead, I had planned to set an example by making donations of my own to each featured cause, and hoped that others would follow suit.

But, today, I have changed my mind. I write to do that very thing -- to ask for money for breast cancer research. What brought about this change of focus? Yesterday, in Virginia Beach, Virginia, I saw the faces of all those whose names are listed on this blog's "wall of honor." It was unmistakable -- their fear and determination, their agonies, hopes, and dreams, all mirrored in the faces of thousands of men and women, some survivors, some friends, and some family members of those who suffer from or have succumbed to breast cancer. During yesterday's Race for the Cure, a part of this country's eastern seaboard was awash in symbols of pink -- pink shoes, pink hats, pink gloves, pink banners -- all signals that the fight continues and a cure surely is on the horizon.

As I ran, I quietly recited the list that's been building here for many months: Emily Jean Thorn, Linda Ramsey Beam, Linda Jessee Mills, Libby Holter, Kaira W., Lynda Boyd, Vanny Mam Cain, Sue Michener, Betty Godby, Tricia Keegan, Jennifer S., and Jill Haines. And, it was that last name -- Jill Haines -- one of twelve companions to thousands of other names printed on people's backs, that changed my mind.

Some time ago, Jennifer S., who is herself a survivor of breast cancer, requested a tribute in memory of her dear friend, Jill Haines. Of Jill, Jennifer remarks, "Jill is an 11 year Stage IV survivor. As the years have gone by and the treatments have changed, she has shown amazing resilience in dealing with the side effects of the various chemos while living her life with incredible enthusiasm." Jennifer's tribute to Jill continues to reflect her deep admiration for her friend.

I am asking that you read her story and imagine that her story could be that of your mothers, daughters, sisters, or that of yourselves. Imagine her passion for this life and her vision of a world without breast cancer for all of you. I am asking that you take the time to read this, and pass it on to everyone in your mailbox and pass it on to your school or church group. I am asking that you take the time to confirm her belief in the power of one dollar. . . .

Recently, Jill and I had a conversation about the power of one dollar in regards to funding research. Jill is alive today because of the dollars that were donated for breast cancer research over the last 25 years. She is currently on a drug that was not available just a few years ago. However, she is running out of options, and her life, like so many others, depends on the continued funding of research for breast cancer. The drug that may save her life might be right around the corner.

As with most of us as we face our mortality, Jill is wanting to make an impact on this world before she leaves it. Its been a rough couple of months for her and she wants to do something that will leave a big footprint on this earth, with her name on it. Great minds think alike, because last year, when I was training for the Breast Cancer 3 Day, I constantly thought about the impact I could have, if I could just get one dollar from all the people driving and walking by.

It is no wonder that Jill was so compelled to promote funding for cancer research, even as she struggled through years of chemotherapy for her own illness. Jill lost many loved ones to cancer, and wrote about those experiences on the Komen website.

I have lost my surgeon to cancer and many friends. Also my parents. I turned to Komen 3 years ago because I lived the dream of hope and wanted to share. The first year is definitely the hardest, because of all the emotions that come into play and life style changes. Year number 2 is one of uncertainty. Every cancer survivor wants that year number 5. The magic number. Why do we count? Are we counting down the days, or counting the days we are alive. Before Cancer days didn't matter.

Sadly, Jill's days counted down, and on September 18, 2009, she was stolen from friends and family by this ferocious disease. But, her friend, Jennifer, continues to promote Jill's impassioned plea. What if everyone donated just one dollar to research for finding a cure for breast cancer? What if it was YOUR dollar that found the cure? What if it was YOUR dollar that saved someone's mother, sister, or daughter?

To Jill Haines, whose shoes I borrowed yesterday to run The Race for the Cure: they lifted me beyond a sore ankle and an aching knee. When discomfort challenged me, or self-doubt reared its ugly head, your shoes propelled me forward, and I considered the vastly greater discomfort of those twelve names that were listed on the back of my shirt. Even though it's likely we will have the distinction of being the very last runner to cross the finish line, still we made it, and I was so proud to take all of you with me.

But, one last race-related task needed attention. I needed to return Jill's shoes with appropriate gratitude. So, this morning, Jill's shoes are full of dollars in the form of a $100 donation to Komen in the fight against breast cancer.

Donate, donate, donate -- $1, $5, $10 -- it doesn't matter. Just click here. Cushion the way with dollars for all those who must travel a path fraught with breast cancer. The step you take by donating could be the one that finishes the race to find a cure!

To Emily Jean Thorn, Linda Ramsey Beam, Linda Jessee Mills, Libby Holter, Kaira W., Lynda Boyd, Vanny Mam Cain, Sue Michener, Tricia Keegan, Jennifer S., Betty Godby, and Jill Haines, thank you all so much for your inspiration and encouragement along the way. I will never forget you!

Here's to the next mile!

Giveaway Winner!

Congratulations to Diane, who contributed information for the story of Kaira W.'s fortitude, and the importance of breast self-examination.

Today, Diane, you are IN THE PINK as the winner of official Komen merchandise, a New Balance sackpack!

I'll be contacting you to obtain your shipping information.

Thanks for being such an important part of this effort!

Courage -- Courtesy of Tricia Keegan

I've been reluctant to assign shoes of courage to one particular person in this series of tributes, because each of the breast cancer patients or survivors named here marches foward in those shoes every moment of their lives.

But, all you have to do is take one look into her electric blue eyes, and you know Tricia Keegan is special from top to bottom. Tricia, from the east coast of Ireland, wears shoes that exemplify the definition of courage. She is a master at transforming fear into determination and doing what must be done, even when it is difficult.

Tricia was diagnosed at age 46 with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma (IDC), an aggressive form of breast cancer. Yet, she has endured surgery, radiation treatments, chemotherapy, and ongoing treatment. That courage and endurance has paid out well, and recently Tricia celebrated her fifth year as a breast cancer survivor!

Tricia's life is full with her supportive husband, two grown daughters and a house full of beloved cats; yet, she never fails to offer support to those who share her cancer experience. The message boards on the Komen website are full of Tricia's knowledgeable and compassionate responses to questions or concerns expressed by members of her breast cancer family. She notes, "I'm a strong advocate for educating people on their diagnosis, and do voluntary counselling at our local cancer wellness centre along with moderating a cancer support site." Then Tricia adds, "While I never would have asked for this disease, it's brought some amazing people into my life...." What Tricia doesn't seem to recognize, though, is how amazing she is.

For Tricia Keegan, who is quick to point out the attributes of others and slow to recognize her own: tomorrow, I'd like to borrow your shoes. I know they will not fit my feet, as they are packed with courage already. But, I will carry them with me as I run, and when fear of difficulty or distance creeps into my mind, I will think of your extraordinary example, and transform those doubts into determination.

For you, Tricia . . . here's to the next mile!

Mile Marker: The Big 3.1!

Watch out, here I come! It happened today . . . the BIG one! No, not the big one I'd been worried about since heart surgery three years ago. It was the big 3.1 mile run -- a 5K! With help from Sue Michener's winged shoes, I smiled at every footstep for three point one miles!

Now, lest this accomplishment conjures images of human legs moving speedily forward with smooth, long strides, let me assure you, that is not the case. I . . . slogjog. That is to say, I jog very slowly. But, today, I slogjogged the entire distance! I see a Komen Race for the Cure in my future!

And that's all I have to say about THAT!

Here's to the next mile!

The Luck of Betty Godby

If ever there was a lesson in the value of early detection, it belongs to Betty Godby, who walks about in some very lucky shoes. Betty, whose cancer was discovered during a mammogram, is a co-worker of mine, and for my part, a friend. Like so many of my co-workers, she balances the many demands and deadlines of her job with the responsibilities of a family, including two children. On every occasion that I have needed to ask Betty for assistance, she has responded with unfailing patience.

Many tributes appear here in honor of brave and selfless individuals, but when I heard that Betty had been diagnosed with breast cancer, I was, to put it plainly, heartsick. Her tribute is the first I've written about someone I know personally with the disease.

Can you imagine finding out you have breast cancer, and calling yourself "lucky"? That's how Betty sees it.

I am really and truly very lucky for the type of breast cancer I have. It is called DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma In Situ), which is a very common type of breast cancer and is very treatable and curable . . . not that that takes away from the devastation of having breast cancer, but I could be in a lot worse shape, and there are people out there that are in a worse case then me.

My cancer is a stage zero which is really good; the doctor told me if I was going to get breast cancer that this is the type that you would want. So I am very thankful for the condition that I am in....

Betty had a double lumpectomy on June 21st, 2010, to remove two 2mm tumors and seven lymphoid on the right side, and a third tumor on the left side. Later in the summer, she had a second surgery to remove additional suspicious-looking tissue. Yet, her optimism remains intact, and she has determined that "this is not going to beat me!!"

So, to Betty Godby, whose shoes are lined with good luck: tomorrow, I will borrow them for just a little while. With each stride of the run, I will be grateful for your good fortune, and hope that every stage of your breast cancer journey is paved with zeros!

Here's to the next mile!

The Legacy of Sue Michener

When I think of writing a tribute to Sue Michener, whose home was in Illinois, I get a little nervous. It isn't because she was an adoring mother and grandmother to her son and his daughter. It isn't because she had a career as a computer support technician (although, Lord knows, I could have used her advice since computers seem to blow up or catch fire when in my company.) Nor is it because she loved to knit or cross-stitch. It's just that . . . Sue wore the funniest shoes.

In addition to all of her other talents, Sue was born a comedienne. Tricia K., Sue's friend, who is herself a five-year survivor of breast cancer, recalls that Sue "kept us all entertained while undergoing chemo, radiation, etc."

Sue posted frequently on the Komen for the Cure message boards. There, it is customary for members to include details of their diagnosis and treatment status in their signatures. But, Sue's sense of humor persisted in her messages right down to the last letter, and she signed off with the line, "recent Mammo...No new findings...now if I could just find my BRAIN...I'd be in business."

Tricia remarks that Sue was not only a dear friend to her, but also a "positive force in my life" and in the lives of many others. In fact, the affection felt for Sue so permeates the Komen forums that the members have made their own tribute of sorts, by arranging a page of "Classic 'Sue Michener' Posts." One of her messages -- about pizza, of all things -- had me in stitches.

SO, the phone rings, and it’s my ‘pizza guy’ calling to tell me that THEY ARE OUT OF WHAT I ORDERED.

What?

HOW can a pizza place be OUT OF PIZZA? Have the planets become mis-aligned when I wasn’t looking? Did someone play the numbers engraved on the hatch in LOST for lottery numbers? OUT OF PIZZA?

I had to sit down.

Sue's "Shortage of Pizza" story is only one example of the way she sought to lift the spirits of her kindred breast cancer family, despite her own suffering. Make your way on over to Komen for the Cure, become a member, and click on this link to read about Sue's indomitable spirit in her own words.

Sadly, Sue passed away in August of 2008, at age fifty-two, only two years after her initial diagnosis. Though Sue's legacy continues to make us smile, the loss of her life and the ensuing absence of joy she brought into the lives of others has been devastating to all who knew her. She is yet another example of the hundreds of thousands of people from around the world who are diagnosed with breast cancer each year, all of whom demonstrate why finding a cure for this disease is so very critical.

So, to Sue Michener, whose legacy of comedy and kindness in the face of adversity remains vivid in the memories of those who love her: tomorrow, I'd like to borrow the shoes you left behind. I already know I cannot wear them, as they are affixed with the wings of angels. But, I will carry them with me as I run, confident that your comedic spirit will fly me to the finish line. There, we will chuckle about Kramer, pizza and mammograms.

For Sue . . . Here's to the next mile!

Mile Marker: Week 6 -- The iPod Glitch

Six weeks ago, if somebody had said, "By July 4, you'll be running two consecutive miles," I never would have believed it. But, it has happened! After borrowing some very inspirational shoes from Linda Boyd and Vanny Mam Cain, my feet have covered that magical hurdle many runners experience at about the two mile mark. And, there was another factor involved -- there was the iPod glitch.

I must admit, I am one of those old fogies who mumbles frequently about the way technology seems to complicate our lives. "Who needs an iPod?" I'd ask myself. "What's wrong with my little half-pound walkman? Defrag and download . . . Blueray and Blackberry. My brain already is a high-def, unsynchronized, technological frazzle." But, I kept hearing how runners love iPods, and decided to give one a try. Now, I don't want to run without it -- except that running without it turned out to be the very thing that propelled me past a critical psychological barrier.

The Week 6 schedule required four nine-minute jogging segments (a total of thirty-six running minutes), interspersed with two minute recovery walks. On the last day, near the end of the first nine-minute segment, the iPod died. Good grief. I didn't realize how dependent I'd become on that teeny little gadget. I might as well have run out of gas in the middle of the desert! For a second, I wasn't sure how to proceed, not only because I love the distraction of the music, but also because I constantly utilize the iPod's stopwatch feature. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep time accurately, so for about an instant, I considered returning home to recharge the thing and start all over. Then, I took about ten seconds to consider whether the recovery walks were really critical. In the end, I decided just to slow down when necessary, recite the names of the seven individuals on the "race for the cure wall of honor," and to keep plodding forward. It worked! I jogged an entire two and one-tenth miles, and I wasn't even really breathing hard. I was ecstatic!

Next, on to Week 7, which requires four eleven-minute running intervals with one-minute recovery walks. By the end of the week, my running distance will be well over two miles. Looks as if the training plan may need to undergo some major adjustments.

Now, if only there were fifty names on that wall of honor . . . .

Here's to the next mile!