Team Andrax Welcomes Smoochdog as mate #100

Smoochdog, aka Michelle, joined our fabulous international cancer fighting team last night.

She lives in Boston, at least that's where she works as a software project manager. Her blog, Calmly Neurotic is always a pleasure to read. Written with honesty and beautiful insight, please be sure to stop by and take a look.

Michelle is also a cancer survivor. She fought this terrible disease at the tender age of 3. Cancer (WhilmÂ’s Tumor) claimed her left kidney but 30 years later she is a living testament to survivorship.

Michelle, welcome aboard. We are so glad to have you join us in this fight!

Starfish

Do you believe in Starfish? If you have heard Loren Eiseley's starfish story (and don't want to read it again), skip to the second half of this post, if not enjoy. Eiseley's account sets the stage for the rest of the story, so please don't skip.

The Starfish Story

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."


Our beach, in the world of cancer, seems to be one of endless starfish, as far as the eye can see. Sometimes the battle seems too overwhelming, the suffering too much, the losses too high, the price too great. We witness, like our good friend Chow, a twelve-year old boy succumb to the disease and we feel helpless to do anything.

As I have often said, we can always give hope. And with hope, perhaps the strength, spirit and energy to fight and the will to overcome. I'm asking those reading this blog to help me with one particular starfish today. Her name is Karen. The help I ask for is simply your thoughts and prayers--no more, no less.

Last Thursday I was blog surfing, walking down the beach so to speak, when I came across this particular starfish named Karen. God only knows why out of literally hundreds of thousands of blogs, I just happened upon Karen's. Perhaps fate, don't really know, and right now, doesn't really matter. Fact is, I did.

Karen is a Real Estate agent in Florida who has very recently learned she has cancer. You can read the medical updates on her blog yourbestagent.

I don't know Karen. I was blog surfing, just clicking away at the "next blog" button when I stumbled upon her site. I almost clicked right past it, because her site is really about her Real Estate business, but the leading post called "medical update" caught my eye.

You can read the two updates on her site, but here is the executive summary. Friday she had surgery and yesterday (Monday) she learned that the surgery did not get it all. Hard choices will need to be made in the days ahead . In her own words:

Well surgery went well on friday and I am recovering at a rapid rate. I met with the doc tonight and not the best news. They took out two cancer sites and there is now a third in a different quadrant. Which means another biopsy and surgery or can the whole thing and get a double masectomy. I am feeling like I am floating on another planet. Just floored and shocked as I was a week ago. Not much I can do for a few weeks till I recover from this one. I have some decisions to make. Hang in there with me. Hopefully this will all be over in a few.

Thanks again for all your support.

To all my fabulous friends, I thank you for taking a few minutes today to offer a few thoughts and prayers to a kind hearted soul facing a terrifying unknown. If you so feel moved, please visit her blog and leave a comment of support. I know from her comments that the simple act of posting a comment means a great deal to her at this time.

I want to finish by repeating the last two paragraphs of the starfish story. Pick up that starfish today and say a prayer for Karen.

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."

To the Children (Part 2)

This is an often told and often circulated story. Still, every time I read it, it touches a place in my heart from whence I know not where.

We crunch molecules for these little souls and if I ever forget why, I just re-read the story below and all is clear again. For the love--enjoy.


A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups, and set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of a little boy.

"Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies."

"Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money."

The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer.

"I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?"

"Sure," said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistle.

"Here, Dolly!" he called. Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur.

The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse.

Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up....

"I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would."

With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers.

In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe.

Looking back up at the farmer, he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands."

With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down
and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy.

"How much?" asked the little boy. "No charge," answered the farmer, "There's no charge for love."

To the Children

Yesterday, I passed a young man, probably 10 years old, on my ride. As we made eye contact he gave me a smile and a thumbs up sign. A simple act, yet the energy and joy such an act gives is hard to describe.

I had a similar encounter this past spring, which lasted all of about 5 seconds but at the time, and still today, seems more like 30. I came to a stop as a school bus was unloading it's precious cargo. The sky was crystal clear blue and the temps were in the mid-70s. About as perfect a day to ride as there is. As the children crossed in front of me, a young girl, she must have been 7 or 8 years old, bookbag over shoulder, stopped right beside me.

My first jaded thought was I don't want to be seen "in conversation" with such a child or that she was going to have some "smart*$#" comment to make (happens more than you would think). Men in lyrca wearing a funny helmet and shaved legs tend to be a magnet for verbal abuse--lol.

Instead, with her long brown hair and big bright eyes--at that age where the eyes seem out of proportion to the rest of the body--she tilted her head up and with the biggest, most genuine smile, blurted out, "What a great day for a bike ride."

She paused for just a second, her eyes locked on mine, waiting for my reaction. I was caught so off guard with the wonderful simplicity and pure authenticity of her comment, I could only mumble something to the effect that it was.

Seemingly pleased to have her undeniable insight acknowledged, she skipped off home, and I could only think she was rushing to her bike on such a gorgeous day to share the wonder.

These experiences, in contrast, bring forth two other remembrances. A few years ago I read a passage, most certainly apocryphal, but nonetheless I've never been able to get the simple idea out of my head, on the assassination of Gandhi. The story goes that when he was shot, the last word he uttered was "love." The commentary: the only thing that can come out of you is what is inside of you--and all Gandhi had inside was love, thus even to his assassin, with his last breath, there was nothing but love.

The second remembrance is from many years ago. I was having lunch with my mentor and he made the comment that people are generally not happy when you succeed. The thought had honestly never occurred to me that those around me would not be genuinely happy for me whenever I accomplished something. I'm sad to say, his comment has proven right more often than not, and when I have good fortune I've learned to be careful with sharing it for fear of stirring the muck of resentment, envy or whatever else success tends to stir in others.

Both these stories remind me of the joy and innocence of childhood. The joy of a thumbs up or a simple exclamation of goodness without anything else attached to it. Just pure happiness and joy uttered from an unfiltered heart. God bless the children.

Team Andrax CFT Stats Updated 8/17

Trée: 814,631
My Mom: 94,367
Emily: 69,972
Brad: 67,601
Sherry: 65,969
Sally: 58,420
Amber: 56,655
Nate: 52,947
Bobby-TB: 53,060
John: 49,724
Rob: 37,221
Kevin K: 34,721
Mertzy: 34,606
Jeff: 29,412
Lee: 22,401
Mishelle: 17,608
Art: 8,954
Christa: 2,964
Catherine: 2,215
Autumn: 1,300
Marilyn: 397

Congrats to Bobby for breaking the 50k barrier!

I am so proud of all you brothers and sisters for the outstanding commitment to do something rather than nothing. Our cause is needed, our cause is just, and our cause is righteous. As our mate Nate, who is fighting this disease with his wife presently, likes to say, "Someone is counting on you." When he posted that quote next to the smiling picture of his two young children, you would have to have been made of stone not to be moved.

You guys are hope givers. Don't ever underestimate the power and value of giving hope to those who often feel abandoned and alone, who feel helpless and afraid. Crunch on my friends!

For Agnes (by request)

10 songs on my current playlist

1. Mercy Now (Mary Gauthier)
2. We're Going to be Friends (The White Stripes)
3. Worn Me Down (Rachael Yamagata)
4. A Pirate Looks at Forty (Jack Johnson)
5. Till I Gain Control Again (Emmylou Harris)
6. Portland, Oregon (Loretta Lynn/Jack White)
7. Hey Man (Eels)
8. Such Great Heights (The Postal Service)
   
9. Greenwaves (Secret Garden)
10. We Will Become Sihouettes (The Shins)
    

Departure

At last, all good things must come to an end. This is the last photo taken this morning before departure. This shot looks more like evening than morning, which is more a result of my rush to snap the shot and lack of proper metering. All in all, it conveys a sense of leaving, a certain sense of sadness at goodbye.