Preventing a Recurrence of Cancer

Another guest blogger.  Enjoy

According to the National Cancer Institute, there are over 12 million cancer survivors in the US today.  And that number is expected to grow, as the population ages, treatments improve, and tests find the disease earlier.  

Cancer survivors face a myriad of health challenges, not to mention the daunting fear the cancer will return.  However, once a patient is deemed "in remission," they are typically disconnected from care -- as well as any attending support -- and told to come back in three to six months where diagnostic scans or blood tests will determine if the cancer has returned.

We suggest a far more pro-active, empowered approach: a remission maintenance plan that offers cancer survivors a personalized program to regain control of their health, restore vitality and protect against the cancer returning. At the Block Center, once a patient has completed their treatment, we personally tailor a comprehensive Remission Maintenance program for them that includes: therapeutic nutrition, exercise, mind-spirit care, and anti-tumor therapies.

Understandably, after hearing that they are "in remission," patients may want to retreat psychologically to a "cancer- free" zone and never think about the disease again.  But this is why they shouldn't:  Cancer is as much a microscopic and molecular disease as it is a visible one. Thus, a patient in remission may still harbor malignant cells (ones that were resistant to chemotherapy or radiation, and therefore survived the attack phase). These cells unfortunately have the ability to show up with a vengeance, even when one least suspects. Not placing far greater emphasis on containing and addressing these cells from the get-go is a significant omission of mainstream treatment. But while preemptive treatment strategies may only exist in integrative clinics, when it comes to the diagnostic side, a new technology has begun demonstrating the relevance of these virulent escape cells.

Enter CTCs (circulating tumor cells)! Over a decade ago, the Block Center was one of a few that were performing bone marrow biopsies to evaluate for malignant cells in both the marrow and in circulation. It took several years, but eventually this evolving diagnostic technology made it into conventional care. While easier to perform today and more reliable as well, we continue to use this in our clinic. This technology allows us and others the ability to measure in our patients the number of these detached cells circulating freely from the main cancer mass.  Though not yet approved for all cancer, research studies have shown that an increase of these cells is prognostic of a patient's survival.

For instance, a CTC count may be a better prognostic indicator for survival among prostate cancer patients than a PSA level -- the test used presently to determine and follow the course of prostate cancer growth.

By comparing the levels of CTC in 37 men with metastatic prostate cancer, researchers at Thomas Jefferson University found that for the men with 5 CTCs or more, the median overall survival was only 8.4 months. Whereas, if these men were found to have less than 5 CTCs, the median survival was 48 months! 

The relevance of CTCs is also relevant to other cancers. For instance, CTCs were measured in 151 women with metastatic breast cancer. The MD Anderson Cancer Center's researchers found that those patients with 5 or more CTCs had a median survival of only 13 months, whereas those with less 5 survived over 29 months!

Controlling, preventing or overcoming these detached and disseminating cells is possibly the biggest conundrum facing cancer scientists. While these cells are generally addressed during treatment, the first steps of recurrence prevention should start with strategies to counter the survival of these residual cells and inhibiting their potential proliferation. In fact, CTCs that have gone through the onslaught of treatment and have nonetheless survived have the potential to evolve into more aggressive clones encouraging a more virulent malignancy. So what to do?

Aggressive Monitoring

We recommend regular monitoring of patients' status with lab tests and imaging to detect early signs of disrupted biochemistry or a recurrence of disease, especially in the year or two after remission.

Being "diagnostically aggressive" may allow us to be less invasive therapeutically. In the first years after remission, therefore, we recommend:

• Clinical visits with your oncologist, at least every three to four months in the first and second year and every six months for the next several years
• Scans and blood tests of tumor markers every three months.
• Complete blood count and chemistry test every three months.
• Nutrition status, including weight changes, body composition, and albumin levels, every three months.
• Internal terrain monitoring, every three to six months for the terrain factors that are most problematic.

While monitoring, there is no reason to wait anxiously for the other shoe to drop.  So immediately implement a full integrative program.

• Make sound dietary changes toward adherence of a whole foods diet.  Reduction in dietary fat has already been shown to cut recurrences in different cancers. Controlling refined flour, sugar and junk food is a necessary step to avoid the recurrence risk of elevated blood glucose and spiking insulin levels.
• Introduce aerobics, strength and flexibility training into your daily schedule. Yoga, pilates, chi gong or any number of fitness approaches is an essential step towards recurrence prevention. Considerable research supports that risk, response, recurrence and outcomes are tied to physical care.
• Mitigate stress through progressive relaxation, meditation, or simply easing the load on an excessive work schedule. Elevated cortisol levels are associated with poorer outcomes in breast cancer patients. So do what it takes to transform less healthy patterns.
• Get rest and adequate sleep. The more active you are in the daytime, the better you'll sleep at night. Few of us get enough sleep and the adverse consequences to an otherwise health promoting, cancer inhibitory environment can be devastating.

© 2010 Keith I. Block, M.D., author of Life Over Cancer: The Block Center Program for Integrative Cancer Treatment
Author Bio
Keith I. Block, M.D. is Director of Integrative Medical Education at the University of Illinois College of Medicine; Medical Director of the Block Center for Integrative Cancer Treatment in Evanston, Illinois; and founder and Scientific Director of the nonprofit Institute for Integrative Cancer Research and Education. He is also editor in chief of the peer-reviewed professional journal Integrative Cancer Therapies and a member of the National Cancer Institute's Physician Data Query Complementary and Alternative Medicine (CAM) Editorial Board.

For more information, please visit www.lifeovercancer.com and www.blockmd.com. Become a fan of Life Over Cancer and the Block Center for Integrative Cancer Treatment on Facebook.

Done

I wish that is what they would stamp on my cancer chart. DONE. As if you could just stamp something and have it be so like "top secret"  like on NCIS or "case closed," like the CIA does. Sadly that is not the case. I don't think you can ever be done with cancer. Even in remission or not having it for many years, there is always that scanxiety, with every blood test, or scan, or even phone call.

September 18th will be my 3 year cancerversary.  Still can't believe it has been 3 years.

Certain things I remember like they were yesterday.  Other stuff is just a giant chemoblur.  I remember when I was told, obviously, when the surgeon told me my options, when the oncologist said ok we can start chemo next week, I thought, what, already holy shit, give me more than 7 days after I get my port in to process this craziness.

My friends told me that it would be over before I knew it.  I didn't believe them at the time.

This is going to take forever I thought HOW MANY MONTHS WILL I HAVE THIS GODDAMN PORT IN?  How long will I be going through chemo and herceptin, and I have to reschedule my life around an afternoon radiation appointment?  Really?

My friend was right.  Although it didn't seem like it it did go by fast.  Now I watch other people go through similar situations that I did, chemo, surgery radiation, and I see the anger and frustrations in their posts.  I know how they feel, I felt that way too. 

Its hard to explain to my friends that soon this will be a distant memory, that this wont last forever, but when you are in the moment, surrounded by cancer, time stands still.

I will continue to advocate, continue to speak about patient empowerment, continue to share my story, continue to blog.

Until there is a cure.

Only then will I be Done.

Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday-Friday 10am-noon on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now and also available on Itunes

Interview on KSPI-FM Stillwater Radio Oklahoma 7/19/10

Interviewed by Chris Greenert of Stillwater Radio on 7/19/10 talking about all things Cancer Warrior!!

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now and also available on Itunes

Empowerment Rally Wrap up..

WOW.  So I still can't believe that I was asked to be a part of a panel for the Cancer Treatment Centers of America on social media and how to be an empowered patient.  Even when I was there I was almost expecting a knock on the door from someone saying whoops, er, ah,we didn't mean to invite you, we made a mistake...

It was such an amazing experience to be a part of a panel, and humbling to be asked.  I spent the day with four other survivors, Joe Bacal, Lani Horn, Jody Schoeger and Matt Zachary.  This was the first time I had met these survivors in real life, otherwise we have just communicated via the virtual world, texting or by phone.  Matt Zachary I have known the longest.  I started blogging on his stupid cancer blog and owe him a lot because of that.  Meeting everyone and listening to their experiences was just so awesome.

We met the pr group to go over the ins and outs of the rally, toured the hospital, which didn't feel like a hospital, learned about how the hospital was founded, and went on what they called "Hope Rounds" before the rally.

Hope rounds were my favorite.  That is where we walked around the hospital and met other survivors going through treatment, for most CTCA is their last resort, most have already been told you have 6 months to live (so they are stage 3 & 4 survivors), get your affairs in order, or have been misdiagnosed.  Meeting these people and having them share their stories was incredible. Telling them about my story gave them a little more hope, at least that is what I think.  I do hope I made an impact on at least one of the people I shared my story with.


The rally lasted an hour, all 5 of us were asked various questions pertaining to our treatment, doctors, survivorship etc.  It could have lasted all day.  We each have so much to share, so much to teach, so much to learn. 


I posted pictures on facebook of the rally and tweeted  about it.  Several people called me a hero, and said they were proud of what I do.  That makes me a little uncomfortable.


I don't consider myself a hero.  I just do what needs to be done. 


Mel is the producer/co~host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live 10am-noon Monday-Friday on wmktthetalkstation.

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now and also available on itunes. 

Bike 4 Breast cancer event

This is why I do what I do

Mel is the host of The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com  Available on Demand and also available on Itunes.
 
Mel is  also the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday-Friday 10am-noon on wmktthetalkstation.com

Sun Safety, Sunscreens & Cancer

By Keith I. Block, M.D.,
Author of Life Over Cancer: The Block Center Program for Integrative Cancer Treatment

As we reach the peak season of the summer sun, wisdom suggests that we pay greater attention to protecting our skin. Yet, there are questions about the best way to do this. Should we avoid the sun? Is all sun exposure bad for us? Are all sunscreens created equal? Does clothing afford any protection?

On one hand, we've all been warned of the dangers that lurk behind those healthy-looking tans; most notably, an increased risk of skin cancer and premature wrinkles. On the other hand, there is also reasonable evidence that sun exposure does not induce melanoma, the deadliest form of skin cancer. In fact, there are several studies that demonstrate sun exposure can actually protect us from cancer! To be specific, the exposure to UVB sun radiation has been shown to reduce the risk of 19 major types of cancer through the production of vitamin D!

So what's a bikini to do?!

I think it's important we all try to get 20 minutes of unprotected sun-to-skin exposure every day. This is essential for meeting our most basic needs for Vitamin D. Once this is taken care of, I recommend both physical protection; i.e., hats, clothing and umbrellas, as well as chemical protection, sunscreens. However, it must be mentioned that many sunscreens on the market today have come under fire not only due to inaccurate labeling -- a product states it has an SPF (Sun Protection Factor) of 50 and it's actually a 4 -- but many have been found to contain a host of controversial chemicals that include potential carcinogens, cancer promoters, free radical generators, and hormone disruptors. In addition, the use of sunscreen is known to reduce the production of Vitamin D in the body.

Tip: Try and get 20 minutes of unprotected sun exposure daily. 

Recently, The Environmental Working Group (www.ewg.org), a non-profit organization with the mission of using the power of public information to protect public health and the environment, came out with a fairly disconcerting report about sunscreens. EWG researchers recommended only 39 of 500 (that's only 8 percent!) beach and sport sunscreens for this season. The reason? As the word got out that the higher the SPF the better, there was a surge among manufacturers misrepresenting that their products contained an SPF over 50. Additionally, there have been new disclosures addressing potentially hazardous ingredients. In particular, recent government data has linked the common sunscreen ingredient vitamin A to accelerated development of skin tumors and lesions.

According to EWG, the best sunscreen is a hat and a shirt. No worries about chemicals that will be absorbed through the skin, and no question about their effectiveness. But if you choose to wear a "teenie weenie yellow polka dotted bikini," or any clothing that provides only partial skin coverage, EWG suggests using sunscreens that provide broad-spectrum (UVA and UVB-sunburn) protection, as well as those that contain fewer hazardous chemicals.  For a list of their recommendations, go to: http://www.ewg.org/2010sunscreen/best-beach-sport-sunscreens/.

Tip: Make every effort to avoid burning your skin.  There is sufficient data to know that sun burns cause serious, long-term damage.

In an effort to make a wise decision regarding which sunscreen to purchase, many consumers look for The Skin Cancer Foundation's "seal of approval."  However, this shouldn't be the sole criteria you use to make a purchasing decision. According to the EWG, The Skin Cancer Foundation (SCF) lends its logo to hundreds of sun protection products that have not necessarily been thoroughly scrutinized.

My Advice:

Get 20 minutes of unprotected sun exposure daily. Even on cloudy days, you can still get up to 80% UV rays and boost your production of vitamin D.

Make every effort to avoid sunburns. Be particularly cautious during mid-day sun exposure or near water where reflections can increase exposure and risk of burns. This can lead to skin damage and injury. Extensive research demonstrates that sunburns -- and particularly repeated burns -- cause serious, long-term damage.

Cover up! The use of hats, shirts and umbrellas offer safe and effective protection from the sun.

Buyer beware.  Before purchasing a sunscreen, consult with a website such as www.ewg.org to ensure you are purchasing a product that is both safe and effective.
© 2010 Keith I. Block, M.D., author of Life Over Cancer: The Block Center Program for Integrative Cancer Treatment

Author Bio:

Keith I. Block, M.D. is Director of Integrative Medical Education at the University of Illinois College of Medicine; Medical Director of the Block Center for Integrative Cancer Treatment in Evanston, Illinois; and founder and Scientific Director of the nonprofit Institute for Integrative Cancer Research and Education. He is also editor in chief of the peer-reviewed professional journal Integrative Cancer Therapies and a member of the National Cancer Institute's Physician Data Query Complementary and Alternative Medicine (CAM) Editorial Board.

For more information, please visit www.lifeovercancer.com and www.blockmd.com. Become a fan of Life Over Cancer and the Block Center for Integrative Cancer Treatment on Facebook. 

The Race

I went to my first NASCAR race recently, one of the perks of where I work.  I got pit passes, got up close to the drivers pit crew, saw all the prep they do during the race and when the car comes into pit row (ok so if I get the names of things wrong sorry, I play hockey, watching NASCAR to me reminds me of when I lived by the 101 freeway in the San Fernando Valley)

I am always thinking of my next blog, or podcast, what inspiring survivor I can get on the podcast, what I should write next.  I was uploading my race photos to facebook and I thought this kind of reminds me of treatment.

The race was my cancer experience.  While I was in the race, time stands still, moves slow.  For others it is just another day, minutes are regular minutes hours are hours days are days. 

The noise of the race was deafening.  That reminds me of when the doc first tells you "It's cancer"  Suddenly words run together, people are talking but it doesn't make sense.  You can hear your own heartbeat in the sound of the race.

The docs, nurses medical staff are your pit crew. All of the pit crew around the car reminded me of surgery, you are almost out of it, there are people around that you don't know and they are all checking on you.

"Checking under the hood"  as I like to call it when they do a breast exam.  The adding of the oil, like a blood draw, well you get the analogies.  Although I do think a blood draw would be less upsetting to me if the needles made that whirr sound like the pneumatic drill does in the race.

Your caregiver is your pit boss.  Making sure everything goes smoothly.  Not that that is entirely possible.  No one can foresee nausea, insomnia or any of the other lovely side effects that go along with cancer, but if it wasn't for your pit boss, your race would be more difficult

Everyones race experience is different.  Some go through treatment with little side effects, no major crashes to speak of.  Others have their cars in pit row the whole time of the race.  I have to say I was somewhere in between. 

Once the treatment is over, some people think the race is over, but there could be more races, meaning, complications, more surgeries, recurrance, depression, entirely new cancers.  Different races, different tracks.

We are all just looking to cross the finish line.  Doesn't matter if we get the checkered flag.  Just matters that that we finish the race, that we beat cancer.

I am looking forward to the time when no one will have to race.

Mel is the co-host/producer of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday~Friday 10am-Noon on wmktthetalkstation.com.  Also available as a podcast.

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com

How Cancer Survivors Can Stay Positive

                                Another guest blogger.  Enjoy.

It’s a dreaded disease whose very name is enough to paralyze people with fear simply because survival rates are very low. So if you’re a cancer survivor, you know you’re among the select few who have beaten this horrific disease that literally eats away at your body. Death comes quickly to some who are afflicted with cancer; to others, it comes after a long and painful struggle to survive. But to those who actually become cancer-free after coping with the rigors of chemotherapy and other forms of treatment, the news comes as more of a relief than something to be elated about. This is more because cancer is notorious for returning with a vengeance, even years after you’ve been cleared of the disease.


I’ve seen both sides of the coin – I lost an uncle to colorectal cancer nine months after it was diagnosed, and I saw my grandmother beat breast cancer and live for another 20 years before she died of natural causes. So I know how fickle cancer can be – it steals life in one breath and also allows you to beat death if you’re lucky enough.

The key to surviving cancer is luck – you need to be lucky enough to detect and diagnose it in the early stages, you need luck with finding the right and most aggressive form of treatment, and most of all, you must get lucky in being able to rid your body of every last cancerous cell. Once you achieve all this, you can start to look to a positive future, one that is untainted by cancer.

The problem with cancer is that it can come back with a vengeance, so you need to do your best to stay positive in the years following your successful treatment of the disease, and the best way to do this is to:

• Focus on all that is positive with your life: You may or may not suffer a relapse, but it’s not wise to spend your life worrying about one. Focus on the fact that you’re healthy now and that you have been given the gift of life a second time. Look forward to living life fully and doing all that you want to do. And be grateful for all that you have rather than regretting the time you’ve lost to battling the disease.

• Join a support group: You may still be overwhelmed by the intensity of your experience, and if family members and friends do not seem to understand your emotional turbulence, find a support group of survivors like yourself who are more in tune with your condition. When you’re able to give vent to your feelings and listen to the stories of other survivors, you feel positive and uplifted.

• Follow up on your medical checks: You may be cancer-free, but it’s best to continue to monitor your condition and ensure that the disease does not return. The earlier you spot any signs of cancer, the sooner it is to get rid of it. Also, you feel more confident when you get yourself checked and find that you’re still free of the disease.


About the guest blogger:
This guest post is contributed by Kathy Wilson, who writes on the topic of      X-Ray Technician Schools .     She welcomes your comments at her email id:    kathywilson1983@gmail.com

Dear Cancer...

I started thinking about this on the eve of an oncology appointment.  If cancer was here, in this room, what I would say to it.

Dear  Cancer,

I go between being really pissed at you and being grateful.  Pissed?  You are wondering why I am pissed at you?  You stole almost two years from me,  where instead of having surgeries, chemo, radiation, nausea, constipation, insomnia, anger, having my pee turn red, having mouth sores, being bald, not being able to work as much as I used to when I should have been playing hockey, riding my bike, being outside enjoying the weather, not being so fucking tired I wanted to sleep, then not being able to sleep because of insomnia, making dinner then not being able to eat because I felt like shit.

You make it hard for me to think, because of chemobrain.  I used to know the answers to things, but some days I just struggle to put sentences together. 

I have scars, both emotional and physical because of you. You made it hard for me to look at myself for the longest time, that has passed, but I am still angry about it.

You are the reason my friend Nick Corea is no longer here.  You took him from us too soon.  I still remember that day when I found out he was gone.  It was like it was yesterday.  You robbed the world of a great man.  For that you will never be forgiven.


You wonder why I am grateful?  I am not grateful for you, lets make that clear.  I am grateful that I found you early, early enough to get treatment to stop you.  I am grateful that I found strength that I never knew I had, Grateful that I have an awesome support system of friends, family and co-workers.  The medical staff that I had was the best anyone could ask for.

Grateful I found a voice not only for myself, but because of you, I can speak for those who can't, who are too afraid, too sick, too weak or just too afraid.

Grateful for the network of people that I have found who hate you as much as I do.  Who want to eradicate you as much as I do.

Grateful I have found a purpose.  Ha, you think you did all this for me?  I realized strength and determination was in me all along, it just took something as vile as you to bring it to the surface.

Now you can leave.  You can leave all my friends alone.  You can leave people I never met alone.  You can go away.  Never come back.


If you do the last five things I ask I will be eternally grateful.

Mel is the producer/co~host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen Live Monday~Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now, and also available on itunes

Cure or Cancer Free?

I got into a heated debate, well lets say argument with a friend of mine about doctors using the word cure.  Once again, I have to say  this is my personal opinion, which will, I am sure piss some people off. I get stubborn that way.  I have my own beliefs.  I am not saying they are right, they are just mine.  Like I was telling my friend.  This is only my opinion, you don't have to like it, and if everyone had the same opinion as me the world would be a pretty boring place.

I hate it when doctors use the word cure when describing cancer.  Let's be honest.  There is no cure, not for one tiny little variant strain of any cancer. I wish to God there was.  I wish all oncologists would be put out of business, but that is not the case.

My friend asked me why it bothered me so much, Here is why: THERE IS NO CURE FOR CANCER.  For me, my definition, cure means there is 100% chance that your cancer will not return.  No doctor can say that, because, well once again, no cure. 

After I argued with my friend, I googled cure for cancer, just to see what I would come up with. Couldn't find anything listed.  Now I hoped against all hopes that I was wrong, that I would see something  on oncolink or something posted from the New England Journal of Medicine. 

Nothing.

I am cancer free, that is what the surgeon told me when he removed the cancerous tumor from my body.  If I was cured, then I would have assumed there would have been no need for the months of chemo, radiation and targeted gene therapy afterwards.

But I went through all that, and I still take tamoxifen, and I will until 2012.  I still get blood tests and scans, and have appointments, and I still worry a little every time,  because I am not cured, but because I am cancer free. 

I will advocate, I will blog, I will keep on doing my podcast.


Until there's a cure.

Mel is the producer of The Vic McCarty Show. Listen Live Monday~Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand and on itunes

Emotional Rollercoaster

Another Guest Blog.  Enjoy

So today has been a bit of an emotional roller coaster...for the first time in a long time! I decided last night that I was going to move my blog over to blogger.com. In the process I decided that I was going to read all of my previous posts, and kind of look at how I had changed from the beginning of treatment to the end.



So with that said I realized one thing...that I always acted like there was nothing really wrong, like nothing could get me down, and that cancer was not a big deal.


Chemotherapy kicked my ass, I want to get that out there right now. I acted like it was no big deal, and that is the actual attitude I had because if I let it get to me then I would have never made it through it all as well as I did. While reading my blog I took a step back and tried to pretend that I was just some other person reading my blog. It was a strange experience because there were some things that I read where I thought that I should be more open about what I was really feeling, and then there were others where I read it and thought to myself that I should have not said what I said. Though I guess I would not be who I am if I hadn't just typed what I was thinking like I did.


I have to say for any person that is going through chemo or radiation, or treatment for any illness or disease...write a blog, it has proven to be very therapeutic in my case. Now that I am reading through it I mean I am realizing that there are a lot of underlying tones and themes to some of the things I said that I never notice before. Which I won't go into, I will let you read them for yourself!


Anyway, back to how it made me feel today. It made me really feel like a survivor! The complications I had, the way I felt during treatment, and the people I met and the things that I went through with them all. I have never felt more like a survivor in my life. I mean going through all of the cancer treatments I also had my other previous issues like having heart disease, a pacemaker, and having cancer before. Cancer really took the front position though, I mean it was during all of this that I decided I wanted to start an organization to raise awareness about cancer, and during this was when I realized that I wanted to write a book on my life starting with my cancer and the retouching on all my other life experiences.



As much as I hate to say this, I hate to admit that cancer has changed me for the better. I would love to say that I changed myself for the better, but it was really a damn disease that changed me as a person. Though I guess that tough situations end up being the things that changed people for the better or worse, and luckily mine changed me for the better.


It also changed the way I wear my hair haha! Before I was all for growing my hair out, but now that I have gone through the process of losing my hair and my beard, I decided that I should keep shaving my head (though I haven't cut it in 2 or 3 weeks now). Soon I will start shaving my head again, but my beard shall stay. Always appreciate your hair whether you have a lot or a little, because once you lose it you will never be the same!


This is all for now my friends!


Until next time,



-The Tech
 
About the author:
Hey readers, my name is Andrew Gemmell, and I am a 24 year old heart disease, stroke, and two time cancer survivor! I have been in and out of the hospital my whole life for mostly cardiac surgeries and procedures like pacemaker implants! Though more recently I have been having my latest life battles with cancer. On March 26th 2008 I was diagnosed the first time with a Stage 1 Testicular Seminoma and simply had to have surgery to remove the mass. No other treatment was needed at the time, but on October 16th, 2009 I was diagnosed with cancer for the second time. This time the doctors found a Stage 3 Seminoma on my Para-Aortic Lymph Node in my abdomen. So the doctors put me through chemo and of course I barreled through it and came out healthy and with a much better attitude than I have ever had. Now that it is all over I am starting an organization and campaign called "Protect Your Pair" in which I want to raise awareness and offer support to cancer survivors and their families! Like I said, my attitude now is much better than ever before, and I am ready to fight with everyone that has been affected by cancer to try and make things better!
 
To contact Andrew: drew@protectyourpair.org

You get what you pay for Part One...

Author's note:  This is just my recent experience with therapy.  I am not putting down any form of therapy or if you or your doctor feel it is necessary.  I am just relaying my experiences with one  therapist.

Before cancer I thought I could handle anything.  I am a pretty strong willed individual.  I don't back down from a fight, and truth be told I can be argumentative too ( I know its pretty shocking to most who know me.)  Cancer, depression, chemo and the side effects those really got to me.  I like using the hockey analogy, its like when another player taunts you and gets in your head. All you can focus on in that taunt, that player, not the game, not where you are supposed to be on the ice, nothing.

So I thought to myself.  Ok, I know I am not supposed to feel this way.  I am done with treatment, I am back to work, but it is after all called the "new normal"  something that you are not prepared for, or well at least I wasn't. 

I decided to see a therapist one on one.  It worked for a while. I told her I am not an easy patient.  Some things are hard for me to talk about.  I told her sometimes you might have to literally pry it out of me like the jaws of life.

She wanted me to journal everyday.  Ok, so what if I have nothing to write about?  I blog here when the mood strikes, I am not a write on command type of person.  Ok I tried.  Got a notebook.  I don't like writing in a notebook, can I write on my computer, its easier for me.  She said something about the brain going to the hand and some subconcious something blah blah. 

Well I asked her, when I am done writing are you going to read it next time I am here?

 No its for you.

Dude, seriously I thought, I know how fucked up and depressed I feel, you sure you don't want to take a peek?  As if writing down my thoughts would miraculously make me feel better and have the sunshine and puppies moment.

She didn't want to see it.

Ok.

She didn't like the thought of prying my thoughts out of me, although that is what I needed. 

She told me she worked with teenagers with emotional problems when I had first met her, so I thought ok, that is helpful since I try to share my feelings but like I said, its hard sometimes and there is that jaws of life analogy again.

She told me that I could call her after hours at home if need be.  I said I don't really like to rely on that, people have their own lives, I don't like to pry.  She insisted.

So I called her on two seperate occasions.

Now being a therapist and knowing that the emotional shit doesn't always happen between the usual 9 to 5 office hours you think she would have taught her kids how to take a message.

Nope.

I got pissed at her about that and all I got was basically an oh well kind of response.

The second time I called she was having some kind of family dispute and had to call me back.  Now for both situations I wasn't at the end of my rope, but could you imagine if I was?  Uh, I am sorry, I am dealing with my child, sorry that you are having an emotional meltdown, hang on I will call you right back.

Once again I got pissed at her.  Once again it was an oh well kind of response.

At some point during my therapy sessions with her she thought it would be therapeautic if I finger painted.

You read that right.

Fucking Fingerpainting

Sure, a depressed almost 40 adult dealing with cancer and survivorship for the first time and you want me to break out the fingerpaints and that would help me cope???!!!! 

Uh.....Sure...

At one point I imagined smearing that paint on her face thinking, yeah, you are right, I feel better now!!!

Her job was probably going to get downsized so she told me that she would remain my therapist and we would figure out where we could continue our sessions.

That was not the case. She told me that, basically I wasn't following much of the direction that she had given me in therapy (Ok lets stop there.  You think that if all you have is a couple of things in your therapy bag of tricks that you might, oh I don't know, ask colleagues, go online.  There is a wealth of information out there.  I know I seek it out.) and that her position will no longer be funded so I should seek help elsewhere.

Obviously getting dumped by your therapist isn't easy, but she was free, a service of a local organization. 

So see, you get what you pay for.


Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday-Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com.  Available on demand now and also available on itunes.

Check how a town comes together for this Mom and survivor on Dateline.

Thanks to Rob of 360i for sending me the link

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

The Schedule

I take a lot of pills, not as many as I used to when I was going through treatment, but still, more than most. Most of them are vitamins, a full multi vitamin, b complex vitamin, vitamin b-6, vitamin d (keeps me from being tired not enough sun in Northern Michigan apparently for most) etc, some are prescribed, like the anti anxiety pill I take, got those from my doc when I was told my course of treatment. I remember thinking how the fuck am I going to get through all this shit? I called my doc and I remember it like it was yesterday, told her I thought I needed some anti anxiety, sounded like she was eating lunch, she was very calm, I think I felt like I was about to jump out of my skin. I recall telling her what I was going to have to do 4 rounds of adrymicin/cytoxan, 12 rounds of taxol, with herceptin, then herceptin for the rest of the year. Yeah, I can see why you would be anxious is what she said or something like it. I remember babbling something like yeah I don't take meds so you should give me the lowest dose possible. I can just imagine what my chart notes look like for that day.

I also take synthroid for hypothyroidism. That pill starts my day. Have to take it on an empty stomach. Then I wait a half hour to an hour to eat. Wonder why that is. Don't know. I should ask my doc next month, going to an appointment for a med check.

I take tamoxifen, a cancer fighting pill. I take that until 2013. Can't wait to be done with that one, once that is done I will be officially done with treatment. That will be a sweet day. Yeah you are thinking it is just a pill, not as bad as chemo or radiation, but still, it is treating my cancer. It is another reminder, and the hot flashes totally suck, but as far as side effects go, they are not too bad.

The other pill I take is an anti depressant. I have to take that with dinner. I took it once without food, ugh. Ever have food poisoning? That was what it was like, and I was house sitting. that was great. Being in an unfamilar environment totally nauseous. I should have started the anti depressant earlier than I did. I have been pretty positive throughout treatment and survivorship, but I realize that I cannot do it alone, that is why I asked my doc for the anti depressant. That was probably one of the hardest things I did. I wasn't feeling like myself and I knew I was in a bad place and I didn't want to keep going down that road.

Then after a while I tried to get off the anti depressants, with doctors approval of course.

That was a mistake.

Anti depressants are hard to get off of, bad withdrawal effects. Not good if you are in radio. I recall calling the docs office talked to the office manager Carla or Nurse Debbie. Yah I think I am going to stay on the meds. I feel like I am either going to start crying or punch someone in the face. She asked me if I wanted to talk to the doctor. I said no. Just put it in my chart. Why? I thought, so she could tell me that was a good idea? I can be a pain in the ass sometimes.


I follow my schedule regularly. Tonight I will take my vitamins and anti anxiety before bed, anti anxiety will help me sleep.

Tomorrow I wake up and take my synthroid, and start the schedule all over again.

Mel is the producer/co~host of The Vic McCarty Show. Listen live Monday-Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com podcast of the show is also available

Check out my show The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now and also available on itunes

Parenting and cancer

 Another guest blogger

I got a lot of advice when I was first diagnosed with cancer. One suggestion I heard often was to let things go and take care of myself. My job, my projects, my chores would wait.

But, I wondered, what about my children? They will not or cannot wait. This is their childhood. They need me now. How is that supposed to work?

Even before my treatment began, the conundrum of simultaneously letting go and parenting came up. A few days before I started chemotherapy, my children came down with the swine flu. At the advice of an oncological social worker, we had not yet told them about my diagnosis or upcoming treatment. We were waiting until the last possible moment so as not to make them anxious. Then my youngest contracted a fever and what the pediatrician confirmed to be unmistakable H1N1 symptoms. We could no longer wait to sit them down and have The Talk. We explained my diagnosis and why I was going to quarantine myself at somebody else’s house. This was not an easy conversation and we all shed many tears. A shadow hung over our discussion. Almost exactly two years earlier, my step-brother, their uncle, had died from cancer, so the disease was very real and scary to them. The worst part of this conversation was that I did not get to hug them after we broke the news. It was the beginning of me having to deny my strongest maternal instincts in the interest of my own wellbeing and survival.

One by one, the three children got the virus. I stayed at an acquaintance’s house for the next ten days. A kind family with a spare room had heard of our difficult situation and offered to take me in. We had only lived here for four months prior to my diagnosis, so we had not yet made close friends. A high school chum, whom I hadn’t seen in twenty years, was moved by our situation and with only a couple of days’ notice, she flew out to help.  She stayed with me and this wonderful family, accompanying me at my first chemo and my port placement surgery. Amazingly, this motley bunch of virtual strangers-turned-friends managed to support me with love and compassion as I started my cancer treatment. This wild journey, it seemed, would not just involve chaos and heartbreak; it would be cushioned by miraculous generosity and love.

When I returned home, my son, who was two years old, clung to me. His insecurity seemed amplified by my strange reemergence. In my ten-day absence, I had already been transformed. My usual peppy energy level had sunk notably and my appearance had altered. Although my doctor had told me it would take several weeks for my hair to fall out, my sensitivity to the drugs was high.  My hair began to fall out after one week. After a clump came out in my brush and made me cry, my husband came by the house where I was staying to shear my curly locks.

My son wanted to be with me and I with him. I felt guilty for my limitations. I had to figure out how to parent from my bed. We read together and we talked. We developed a repertoire of games I can play with my low energy while resting. He has become so accustomed to them after my four months of treatment that on the days when I have been up and about, he sometimes becomes indignant: “But I want to go snuggle in your bed!”

Even when I am weakened, nauseous, and fatigued, I cannot stop being my children’s mother. I cannot stop loving them, caring about them, fretting about them, working to support their emerging and precious selves. But, as I said, my instincts are often denied. I really have had to let so many things go. I can no longer look after my daydreamy eldest’s organization of her schoolwork. I have consulted with her teacher, and we are lowering our original goals on that issue for this year and are focusing on her learning. She may not get every assignment turned in but she is engaging in and understanding the curriculum. I have given up trying to reorganize my middle child’s bureau drawers. I can’t participate or volunteer at the kids’ school. Even if I had the energy, it is a virus swamp and no place for the immunocompromised. The things I normally manage, that are part of my normal rhythm as a mother, have to fall by the wayside. 

Although my parenting has been restricted, I can still check in with my children. Thankfully, they tell me what is on their mind.  It pains me that I can’t engage with their concerns and fully protect them from the horror of what is happening to me. They see me and know that I suffer. I fantasize about having a superpower that would allow me to freeze time for them so that I could go off and get better without them having to witness the pain of treatment. In this daydream, I would return as basically my same self and we could resume our family life without this nightmarish interruption.

Early on, we bought them a book about a mother with cancer, a story told at a level that even my youngest could understand. He asked us to read it repeatedly for the first couple of months of my treatment. Two months later, when the book had lost its hold on him, he turned to me with a serious look on his face and said, almost accusing, “In the book, Sammy’s mother gets better faster than you.” My heart broke for what felt like the millionth time. A ten-minute story is so much easier to sit through than a year and a half of treatment. I wish, like him, we could just turn the page and make the time pass.

My middle child, the one who has been told repeatedly in her seven years of life that she looks just like me, expressed the most distress about my hair loss. The changes in my appearance that threatened my own identity also seemed to threaten hers. She did not want me to show my bald head in front of her friends. She urged me to get a wig. When she learned about my surgery, she asked if I would look like a man without breasts. My eldest, who is almost ten, confided her fears about her own body: she was afraid to get breasts because they might get cancer too.

But even snuggling and talking have their limits. The treatment makes me hypersensitive at times, making noise or multiple simultaneous conversations difficult to tolerate. My children are learning to have more slow and measured conversations with me, but, of course, this is not natural. The cognitive impairment of chemotherapy makes me an unreliable listener.  “Mommy, don’t you remember?” is a phrase I have heard that more in the last four months than in my prior ten years of motherhood, as I, in defiance of my usual acute memory, once again forget a friend’s name, a birthday party, or a project that somebody wanted to do.

An undeniable anxiety pervades our household, bringing our reactivity up in a multitude of circumstances. Our capacity is down, so my husband and I work to push things back to make space for the kids’ needs and concerns. We worked out with the girls’ school that they do not receive homework one night a week while we attend a family support group. In general, we have abandoned some of our usual focus on their schoolwork. The vulnerability of our situation makes our emotions raw. When my son wandered off for ten minutes at the science museum, our imaginations could believe the worst-case scenario more vividly than we normally would. We know too well that the bad stuff in life is not just what happens to other people.

What, I often wonder, is my goal as I parent through this time? How am I to help the children make sense of this experience? The best I can come up with is that it is my obligation to listen and be as honest and hopeful as I can. I learned, in the twenty months my brother was fighting this disease, that there is always something to hope for no matter what course the cancer takes. With my brother, I started by hoping for a cure and ended with the wish, once it was inevitable, that his death be peaceful and that he leave this world feeling the power of the love he had created while he was in it.

So this is an opportunity to teach them, in a vivid way, the importance of love, generosity, and hope. I have marveled with them at the kindness of the people who took me in and cared for me when our family had its initial crisis. I try to help them see the weight that is lifted as people bring us meals or visit and help with chores. I hope that, with our guidance, they can see how these acts of lovingkindness are fundamental to a community and that they will be eager to give to others when the opportunity arises. I hope they see that my appearance can change, but the love that I have for them never does. My love for them endures even in these circumstances, even when I am being beaten down by chemo side effects and the drugs that are meant to alleviate them. I hope that they learn about the importance of us sticking together as a family, as they watch their dad push himself to the limits to keep everyone going. I hope they learn how to live life with joy, because only if you have been in a difficult place filled with grief do you learn the gift that is health and normalcy to the point where it can bring you true contentment and happiness.

Lani Horn is a wife, mother of three, and a professor. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in October 2009. You can read her blog at chemobabe.com.

Mel is the producer/co~host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday-Friday 10am eastern time on wmktthetalkstation.com.

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now and available on Itunes.

THE SCAR

I never really had a scar until I had my lumpectomy. Before that I only had one tiny scar on my knee.  Got that from our dog Tiger, a german shepard mix, who decided, when I was in junior high or high school, to chase something and he dragged me down the the ground.  Barely noticeable to me.

Now including I have 3 scars, one on my knee, one from my lumpectomy and a scar from the infusion port.

It took me a while to get used to seeing the big lumpectomy scar.  I am glad my breast was able to be saved, and I can never wear a shirt and show off my cleavage (well I guess I could but that scar would turn heads more than my cleavage ever would.)

When I first got home from surgery I remember looking at my scar, hating it, glad that the cancer was gone, but hating the fact that I had a constant reminder of surgery, of cancer, of the fact that life was going to be different from here on out.  It took me a long time to get used to that scar. 

I had everything happen to me pretty quickly, diagnosis to surgery to chemo was less than two months, Sept 18th-diagnosis, Oct 9-Surgery, November 12 chemo.  Somewhere between lumpectomy surgery and chemo I had surgery for to put the port in.  I was glad that I had that put in because chemo chews up your veins, but I hated seeing that fucking thing every day.  It looked like a little bottlecap underneath my skin. I couldn't anything that I really loved to do (hockey, skiing etc) because you could get seriously injured if you hit that thing.  Even when I was exercising I would move a certain way and that would hurt. I totally recommend getting a port, but I was so fucking grateful when it was removed.

My surgeon wanted to know if I wanted to keep it. Some people do as a reminder. No way. Thanks for the memories doc, but throw that god damn thing away. I have enough memories of all the shit I went through.

My lumpectomy scar is perfect for that.

Some of where the cancer was cut out is numb and will never get feeling back.  Some of the feeling has come back.  That is normal, my surgeon says.  Like I said, glad I got to keep my breast.  I remember thinking waayy back when I first met my surgeon he asked if I wanted a full mastectomy on my right breast.

Holy shit,I thought,  it was difficult enough to think about, that I have cancer, that I have to have surgery, wondering how the fuck am I going to pay for all this, now you are asking me if I want you to lop off a part of my body.  Hell no.  (Although I am pretty sure at the time I didn't say that but in the back of my mind that is what I was thinking)

I remember thinking after seeing that scar, that Doug would never think that I would ever be attractive again.  Obviously that is and never was the case, but in my mind, during chemo, that god damn napalm they give you, caused my hair loss and my weight loss (when I thought I looked like a space alien) the times when I couldn't eat, when I was so fucking fatigued from cancer and then I couldn't sleep, when I forgot about those things for a moment, there would always be that scar.

Having that scar took a long time for me to get used to. 

I know some people equate their scars to a badge of honor.

I don't. 

The scar is now just a part of me.


Mel is the producer/co~host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday~Friday 10am-noon eastern time on wmktthetalkstation.com 

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand and also available on itunes.

On the fence

Today I found out a friend of mine has cancer.  He has been keeping it a secret for some time.  I don't see him that much and all he said was that he was going in for some minor surgery. He didn't tell me, I heard it from a mutual friend.

It reminded me of when I was diagnosed.  I wanted to keep it a secret at first, it was so hard to believe that it could happen to me.  I had two jobs at the time so I told one boss, then the other, then most of my co~workers.  Telling the story over and over again was so hard at the beginning. I actually told one of my supervisors to tell the other employees at my job.  I couldn't keep telling the story over and over again.  It was right after diagnosis, before any treatments or surgeries, and it was like cutting open a fresh wound every time I would say I have cancer.

I know my friend wants his privacy.  I know its hard when its fresh and new.  You never think it could happen to you.  My friend is active, works out, and it is a total shock when you are diagnosed, when you hear those words.

I want to go to my  friend and give him a hug, tell him I am here for him. Give him support and tell him I am here for him and introduce him to the cancer community that I am a part of.


But he hasn't told me.

I will respect his wishes and wait until he tells me.

I am used to being on his side of the fence.  Being the fighter, ready for battle, taking on cancer, dealing with all the shit that comes with it.  Not being on the other side of the fence.

Being on either side of the fence sucks.

Mel is the producer/co~host of  The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday~Friday 10am~Noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast available on demand now on Empoweradio.com.  Also available on Itunes

Spare Me The Stronger Part -Even Though It’s True

 

Another Guest blog.  Enjoy

My  ( ex) hairdresser said the dreaded words. “ Well, you know. . this will only make you stronger! **wink,wink** “ My usual retort used to be “Really? I thought life was hard enough without a bout of cancer to toughen you up. “ But I didn’t have the energy that day. I just smiled and thought “Just cut my hair lady - this is the last time I’ll be in your chair for a solid year.”  That was almost 3 years ago now and still  I  wonder what my children really thought of my cancer.  We tried to keep life pretty normal, but  we weren’t hiding anything either. They knew about the surgeries and chemotherapy etc. Yet, it is truly hard to tell how it impacted them until something else sneaks up. Like when my daughter’s boyfriend had to go to the ER for a twisted ankle. I assured her that her beloved was to be a.o.k  and then it came out. “Yeah, like the time you went in for the lung biopsy and they collapsed your lung! Things happen to people Mom, things happen and they are not o.k.“

I’m going  out on a limb here and give you a fat cliche. “It made our family stronger.“  Actually let me rephrase. Cancer didn’t make us stronger - the way we chose to support each other made us stronger.  My kids and my husband got to see me in a different light. It gave me the chance to be vulnerable and them a chance to step up to the plate. I cried in front of them - I let my daughter stay in the hospital with me because she needed to. It was her way of dealing with the crisis. They had the chance to see me as a person and not just someone  nagging about homework and curfews. Did they grow up faster because of it? Yes. But is that a bad thing? Isn’t it better for our kids to learn that life happens - it’s how you choose to deal with it that makes the difference?

Teen #2 came home from school the other day and told me about a girl who was very troubled, using drugs  etc. and said “ I think she has a bad home life.“ That’s when Teen #1 stepped in to remind him “We had a bad home life for awhile too Brandon.  When mom was sick we could have starting messing up- but we didn’t.  It’s choice.  She has the choice.”

It was a choice to share my experience with my family. I could have kept it all to myself pretending to be strong and shelter them from life, but in doing so I would have robbed them from their experience. This is an excerpt my daughter wrote for her a scholarship essay:

 It’s an indescribable pain to watch your mother cry because she can’t breathe. It’s even worse when there isn’t a single thing to do to help her. Ultimately, I was just mad. Mad at the doctors, at the nurses, at the cruelty of the universe in general. But with all my anger came a renewal of the way I saw my mother. She was so strong and she had so much patience and clarity. That night, I saw her not only as my mother; I saw her as a wife, as a “Tough Girl,” and as a woman who, despite all of the terrible things she was enduring, was able to still have love in her heart for her daughter. My admiration for her grew in ways I wouldn’t even be able to describe. And after that night we spent in the hospital, she also became more than just my mom. 

I felt so sad reading this - knowing she was hurting so bad inside . And in the next breathe, I was so grateful I let her see ‘me'.  I realized my experience made her a better person and yes, we are ‘stronger’.   

Angella Hamilton

Founder of Inner Tough Girls
http://www.ourlifeaftercancer.org

 

Celebration list or a list of moments

I was recently talking to a friend of mine, and fellow warrior about how I hate the term Bucket List.  First of all I watched the movie during my treatment, got it as a screener from a group I belong to.  Sometimes they don't tell you what the movies are about.  Again I think holy shit another freakin movie about cancer, can't get away from it.

 The Bucket list.  I know its supposed to make you think of all great things to do before you die or kick the bucket.  Now I get what they were going for, in the basic sense, Jack Nicholson, Morgan Freeman, add a bit of cancer and hilarity ensues right?  Two guys from the opposite end of the spectrum coming together at the end of their life and creating a list of things they want to do before they die.

Why focus on the negative part?  Like I said before I was lamenting about this to a fellow warrior and she said don't call it a bucket list just a list of moments.

I like that

I will call it my celebration list.

I, like many survivors, have faced my own mortality, and at any age that is difficult and scary, so I don't want to focus on things to do before I die, I want to focus on things to do while I am still here, alive and kicking


My celebration list, which isn't really written down, it is, like my friend said, a list of moments.

I know no one here gets out alive, but we all want to be a little scrappy while we are here, so lets not focus on the die part, bucket, kick the bucket etc. (if director of The Bucket List Rob Reiner were here I would call him a meathead like his nemesis Archie Bunker did in the tv series All in the family)

Mel is the producer of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday~Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com.  Available on demand now and also available on itunes.

MELATHON

Another guest blogger.  Enjoy

Mel was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma breast cancer on 9/18/07. Because of her employment, she was and is still not eligible for full health care coverage. Mel was only able to get some very basic coverage at her own expense. The result, she owes the hospital and doctors over $20,000. She has only been able to make small payments against this large debt. Now, the wolves are at her door, calling, process serving letters etc, wanting it all now. The only way she will be able to do this now, is to declare bankruptcy!


We were working in the radio station this past Friday. She told me a process server came by this week with papers, she started to cry. She said, "My docs, they will not get a penny if I go bankrupt, my doctors have become my friends, they saved my life, how can I do that to them?"



Mel has turned her life over to helping people cope with cancer issues. Those of us friends and co-workers who know Mel, know that she is a tireless advocate for cancer awareness and never complains about her personal situation. She is always fun and upbeat and likes to bring joy into peoples lives, because she has her life back. As one of her friends, it is my hope, that all of us together can chip in to help her out now. It is impossible for her to raise this kind of money in a short time.



We were thinking about doing a local fundraiser for her in the Spring, but now there is no more time.


As one of her friends, I'm begging you to forgo those pizzas this month....or that elegant dinner for two you were planning, No gift is too big or to small. Please help our friend Mel Majoros, who has helped so many. Please be as generous as you can. $20,000 plus is a lot of money to one person, but not to the hundreds of us who care about Mel. We can do it!



Please send your gift to: Mel Majoros

Po Box 148

Petoskey, MI 49770



Please make sure that your check is made payable to: "Mel Majoros"



Do not include the words cancer appeal or fund in the payable line. However, you can put that in your memo section if you wish.



Also, if it is easier for you to Paypal your gift,

you can send it to: thecancerwarrior@gmail.com, or click on the paypal link at the top of this blog




Feel free to repost this on your personal Facebook page or blog with your own personal appeal.





Brian E. Brachel is the Chief Engineer for MacDonald Garber Broadcasting and the General Manager of Baraga Broadcasting, Catholic Radio for Northern Michigan.  You can contact him at
Brian.Brachel@106khq.com


Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen Live 10am-noon Monday-Friday eastern time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com.  Available on demand now and also available on itunes.