Had this is my inbox this am and thought I would share.
Courage is the price that life exacts
for granting peace.
Amelia Earhart
US aviator (1897-1937)
When I received my cancer diagnosis, what I wanted more than anything in the world was to meet, talk to and hopefully get a hug from long-term cancer survivors.
One of my happiest moments during that awful time was the evening I met a woman who was a 7-year cancer survivor. She hugged me and told me I would be fine, and I believed her. Now, of course I knew in my head that all cancers are different and that, in all likelihood, she had had totally different treatments for her cancer than I had for mine, but the facts didn't matter to me right then.
What mattered was that another human being who had been through pretty much the same thing I was going through - and, more importantly, someone who knew the raw terror I was experiencing - was still standing, proof that I could come out on the other side of this. She was hugging me and infusing me with her strength and her courage and her humanity. She made me believe what all of my doctors' reassurances and the nurses' encouraging words had not been able to because she spoke to my heart.
But there was something she didn't tell me, something that every cancer survivor learns at some point, something I'm going to share with you now, and that is this: cancer changes our lives in many ways, and it changes our lives forever.
Most of the ways are good. Nearly every cancer survivor we've ever met agrees that the "cancer experience" has given them a richer, deeper appreciation for life and pushed them to live their lives with greater joy than they ever knew
before cancer.
On the flip side, we cancer survivors will forever be getting those "extra special" checkups on a regular basis. We will be nervous, often scared, occasionally terrified. Some of us have to go through these examinations every few months for years, some more often and some less frequently.
Many long-term survivors find that, the longer they are "out" from diagnosis, the more they run into a particular problem. The problem is this: the people who weren't around them "back then" and who have only known them with hair and rosy cheeks and bright eyes just don't get it. We have even heard from some long-term survivors that people have said to them, "You look so healthy. You must not have had a very bad kind of cancer" (Excuse me? There are good kinds?). In other cases, new and/or casual acquaintances have actually implied that a long-term survivor never really
had cancer at all!
We've heard from several long- term survivors who've encountered problems with employers and co- workers who think the survivor is using his medical history as an excuse to take a few days off when he is due for check-ups and follow-up tests.
When a work-related situation arises, it is absolutely necessary to take action in order to avoid discriminatory treatment. Ask your oncologist to speak with your employer if it seems to be a simple misunderstanding. In more serious cases, it may be necessary to contact someone who can act as an advocate on your behalf. Many oncology practices and hospitals have such patient advocates on staff; if they don't, they can put you in touch with advocates in your community. In the most serious cases where real workplace discrimination is taking place, it becomes necessary to contact an attorney.
For the most part, however, the simple answer to these concerns is that it is up to us to educate the public. It is up to us as survivors to teach people who might otherwise never know it that there are more than 10 million cancer survivors in this country and we walk among them every day. Our hair has grown back and our cheeks glow and our eyes sparkle. We go to work and we go to school and we get married and we have babies and we live our lives just like everyone else. The differences between us and everyone else are generally unseen (medications, medical appliances, etc.), and every now and then we have to call upon every ounce of courage we can muster and go have some scary tests to make sure everything is okay.
If you find yourself in a situation where someone is implying that you couldn't have been very sick, if in fact you were ever sick at all, and that you might be a bit of a hypochondriac, remind yourself that you don't owe that person or anyone else any explanations. You don't owe anyone anything. You've paid your dues and then some. You're a survivor, a champion, a warrior, the very definition of courage and determination. And that is something no one can ever take away from you.
Bless the person who suggests anything different, and move on.
Dear God, Please help me move forward with my life, ever mindful that I am changed now, for the better and forever. Be with me as I lie on the examining table, undergo frightening and sometimes painful tests, and as I endure the seemingly endless wait for results. When others are less than kind about the differences between them and me, help me to remember that this is only between You and me. Give me the strength to bless them, turn away and face only You.
Amen
Roger and Kathy Cawthon
The Cancer Crusade
email:
cawthons@thecancercrusade.com
web:
http://www.thecancercrusade.com
that you'll be on soon.
I hope they get the results to her quickly, and that everything is fine! 
)
And your party sounds like it was delicious!!! It's so cool when an event comes off like that - good company, good food, good times. And don't think for a minute you don't deserve it!
But like I tell DH, if I ever get the senior discount anywhere (I'm now 46) I just may rethink this whole "natural" thing. 
Just so ya know, I'll think of you each and every time. 
Ah....the things we are grateful for. 
