Two Years

Yesterday was the two-year anniversary of my mom’s death. Two years is a weird number. My loss is no longer an infant, weak and helpless; but it’s certainly not full-grown. It’s small enough that I can still hold it in my arms. It still needs my nurturing and attention. It probably always will. It's not ready to be left entirely on its own.

I remember when we first heard the words “lung cancer” and the idea that my mother might have the disease. It seemed impossible. Like someone had said she might have elephantitis. What? Who gets lung cancer? Certainly not my healthy mother.

More than anything, it was terrifying. I couldn’t imagine life without my mom. I mean, I literally couldn’t imagine it. I’d gone 33 years with her by my side – it was like trying to imagine life without legs and no possibility of crutches. All I felt was sheer terror.

It’s hard for me to speak for her – you can’t ever truly know what someone else is feeling when they’ve been diagnosed with cancer – but I think she also felt sheer terror - a different kind of terror.

Our terror clamped on like a steel rod and pushed us forward. Early on, though, her rod became unbolted; first with the stroke and then with the myriad of other complications that ravaged her body.

At times, I felt like I had to hold us both up, but that was just an illusion. Even though she was weak, and even when she couldn't speak, she was still Mom until the very end. I still had her until she took her very last breath.

The terror I felt during the initial diagnosis was fear of how I could cope without her - but also fear of whether I would forget her. So much of a person is how we perceive them. If we stop perceiving them, is that when they cease to exist?

When she took her last breath and she no longer had life, it was as if someone had turned off the electricity. Once she was no longer the vessel for so much energy, life and light, she was merely a vehicle, a body, a box.

But even though my mother was physically gone,she most definitely has not ceased to exist. Although I can't see her, touch her, smell her or hold her, she's been there for me every step of the way.

When I decided to move back to Boston and had to sell her house, it sold in a week. When I found the neighborhood I wanted to live in, her oldest friend's daughter knew someone selling a condo. When I looked for a job during the beginning of an economic downturn, I got one within weeks and it opened a lot of interesting doors - doors she would have loved.

The night before she died, I met someone who's been a source of strength and support; a patient, loving man who makes me laugh and even reminds me of her sometimes in certain ways.

I can't see her, touch her, feel her or smell her - and as anyone who's read this blog knows, I basically channel my grief into advocacy. But sometimes, out of nowhere, it hits me and I miss her so much. Sometimes, there's no one else who'd have the right words to say- no one else who'll love me unconditionally, no one else who's just like her.

But she's still there, right by my side. My grief hasn't grown up so much that it no longer needs her and she hasn't left me yet.

I still see her in so many different and unexpected ways, and yesterday was no exception.

I recently befriended a young woman through an online lung cancer support group. Her mother is only 46 years old and has advanced lung cancer. Like my mom, she has blood clots and has had some strokes.

Her daughter wrote to me and said that their oncologist had given up on her mother and that they felt hopeless. I suggested that she see my mother's doctor for a second opinion because she's one of the leading researchers into cutting edge therapies involving genetic testing of tumor mutations.

There was no guarantee that she could do something, but it was worth a shot. Better than being told your 46 year-old mother is a lost cause.

Yesterday, I got this email from the young woman:

"Dear Julia,

We went to see Dr. Sequist yesterday and we loved her! They are seeing if there is enough tissue from my mom's September biopsy to do the genetic testing, if not they will be calling her in for another biopsy next week and then we'll take it from there. If she doesn't have one of the mutations Dr. Sequist recommends Alimta as the next chemo to try.

Thank you so much!"

Her mother's first appointment with my mother's doctor was two years to the day after my mother's death.

Call me crazy, but I don't think that's a co-incidence. I'm sure that my mother is somehow part of this new journey, just as I feel her as a part of my journey and the advocacy I do. She's welcoming this new patient that I directed to her old doctor, hoping for better results for this daughter's mother two years later.

I miss you, mom. You will never, ever be forgotten. I am so glad that you are still here, that I still feel you and see you in so many miracles.

Love,
Julia

The Day We Stormed Capitol Hill

I can't believe it's taken so long for me to recap our incredible trip to DC, but that's life in the big (and busy) city!

For those of you who are thinking "What incredible trip to DC??", here's some background: I do advocacy work with the Lung Cancer Alliance, and what they do best is legislative advocacy. They work tirelessly to try and get more federal research dollars allocated towards lung cancer research. Currently, federal research funds are disproportionately directed at OTHER cancers and not lung cancer, the biggest cancer killer.

LCA invited me and my mom's sisters to travel to Washington DC in order to meet with our Congresspeople in person. Our aim was to try and convince them of the INCREDIBLE importance of co-signing onto the Lung Cancer Mortality Reduction Act, a bill that asks Congress to work together with other governmental agencies to come up with a plan - SOME kind of plan - to address lung cancer's dreadfully low survival rates - which have been stuck at less than 16% for over 40 years.

My aunts and I were part of the Massachusetts contingent,eight advocates strong who were all fired up to march up to Capitol Hill and talk turkey with our members of congress. Or something like that.

Day one, we attended a training session for those of us who'd never done this kind of face-to-face meeting before. It was led by the dynamic, compassionate and incredibly articulate Laurie Fenton, the President and CEO of Lung Cancer Alliance.

Laurie spoke to about 50 advocates assembled from states across the country, including California, Connecticut, Kentucky, North Carolina, Georgia and Washington. We heard from lung cancer survivors as young as 23 and as old as 73. We heard emotional stories from family members like me who came because they lost someone and feel like they have to do something.

That night, we got a special treat. We attended an ice skating show called Kaleidoscope at the Verizon Arena, a celebration of skating and cancer survivorship. The headliners included cancer survivors Scott Hamilton and Dorothy Hamil, as well as Olivia Newton-John.

It was thrilling for The Lung Cancer Alliance to be included among so many fantastic advocacy groups, all working to raise awareness of the different cancers. The show will be broadcast tomorrow - on Thanksgiving Day - at around 4pm on FOX- after the football game.

Day two was "showtime." We got dressed in our best Capitol Hill outfits, powered up with the free breakfast at the Embassy Suites, and met with our fellow advocates to come up with a game plan.

Since there were eight of us, we broke into two "teams" in order to make our way through the list of Representatives and Senators from Massachusetts. My team only had one actual appointment - that was with my Aunt Susan's Rep, Niki Tsongas. The rest we were just planning to ambush. Well, to call upon, unannounced.

We weren't sure what to expect. We'd been told that it was unlikely that we'd actually meet with any of the Congresspeople themselves - and we'd be lucky if their aides would even agree to see us without an appointment. Undeterred, we went ahead anyway. We thought, "We've come all the way here - it's worth a shot!"

Our first stop was actually to a Connecticut Rep because our friend Kevin Brummett was from Connecticut. Kevin lost his battle with lung cancer this spring and his widow Stephanie was with us. She wanted to pay Kevin's Congressman a visit. He wasn't in, but she left a personal note and we felt good about touching base there.

As we left the CT office, my Aunt Susan noticed offices for a South Carolina Congressman. She owns a condo down there, so we popped in to say hello. He wasn't in, but we left info and moved on.

Door number three was Representative McGovern, who covers areas including Worcester and Hopkinton. We had a connection to one of his constituents in Holliston and miraculously enough, McGovern was in his office and agreed to see us.

We had only gotten a few sentences into our "pitch" when he said "Count me in. I'll sign it." We were floored. Stephanie walked right up to his desk and thanked him,tearfully, sharing her story about how her 31-year old never-smoking husband lost his battle with lung cancer. He seemed genuinely moved - and sure enough, the next day, he signed on!

Next was Congressman Lynch, who represents South Boston, among other towns. He wasn't in, but his aide was, and she agreed to hear our stories. She shared with us that she'd lost her grandmother to lung cancer. This is what happens so often when you start talking about lung cancer. Lung cancer touches so many people, you're bound to meet someone who's been affected. This obviously wouldn't sway Rep. Lynch's decision, but it helps us talk to his aide when she has a personal connection. She gets it, even without us telling our stories. Of course we did anyway and shared with her all of the shocking statistics - and when we left the office, she promised to share our information with the Congressman and encourage him to consider co-signing legislation.

After that was MY Rep, Michael Capuano who represents most of Boston including my district in Charlestown. We knew he wouldn't be in because he's currently running for Ted Kennedy's seat in the US Senate and the election is just weeks away. We'd tried to get an appointment with him beforehand since two of us are constituents, but no luck. So, we showed up anyway. His very nice aide Jared chatted with us for a while, and then we got a chance to meet with his legislative aide who was very sympathetic and compassionate. I've since emailed the Congressman, so I hope we'll have his support!

Next it was time for a coffee break! We headed to the cafeteria in the basement which was actually kind of exciting. Congressmen and women have to eat, right? We weren't sure who we'd see, and we didn't really see anyone we knew, but it was nice to take a break and power up with some coffee and cookies.

Niki Tsongas was our next stop. We had an appointment with her health aide, and we'd heard that Niki herself might make an appearance. Her health aide was wonderful. Not only did she listen compassionately, she asked a lot of questions - great questions - which made us realize that she was seriously considering this bill.

She seemed shocked at the statistics and deeply moved by our plea. We were deep in discussion, when in walked Congresswoman Tsongas. She was very gracious and also listened intently to our stories, the statistics and the explanation of the bill.

She shared that she had actually lost her mother to lung cancer, which we hadn't known until then. Before we left, she said that the bill sounded like something she would sign, but that her team just had to review it first. Our fingers are crossed.

Feeling empowered, we went onto our next unscheduled stop - Congressman Olver, who represents the western part of the state. We met with his health aide and told her about Sara Monopoli, the sister of one of Congressman Olver's constituents. Sara lost her life at 34 to the disease - just 9 months after giving birth to her only child. His aide was incredibly compassionate and shared that she, too, had lost several members of her family to lung cancer. She said "I can't see why he wouldn't sign this bill"- and the next day, he had signed it!

On a roll, we headed down to Congressman Delahunt's office. He represents the Cape and the South Shore. I've heard he's a nice guy - and his aides were very sweet - but they were firm that without an appointment, we couldn't talk to anyone. This was the first and only time that we ran into this kind of stumbling block, so it didn't really faze us. We figured we'd talked to enough people in one day! We left our info and moved on.

We left Capitol Hill feeling elated. It was such an invigorating feeling to know that we'd spoken with people who can actually affect change. As Laurie Fenton had told us, this was "pick and shovel work" - asking Congresspeople to co-sign onto a bill, one member at a time, just for the hope that we can get it to the next step.

Pick and shovel work. Not totally glamorous. Nothing that happens overnight. But necessary work. Important work. Inspiring and invigorating work.

One legislator at a time, we'll get through to them until we've got everyone from Massachusetts - and with the work of LCA, hopefully we'll get most of the US Congress to sign on. Then, hopefully it will get it into hearings - and eventually passed as a bill so that we can finally start to see a difference in those devastating mortality rates.

Before our trip, only one Congressman from Massachusetts had signed on: Barney Frank.

After our trip, this is where we stand today: One senator from Massachusetts (Kirk) and five Congressmen (Neal, Olver, McGovern, Tierney and Frank) have all signed on.

We're still working on Capuano, Delahunt, Tsongas, Markey and Lynch. How amazing would it be if Massachusetts was the first state in the union to have all of its congresspeople sign on? It would certainly show that this state cares about lung cancer. Being one of the regions with the most exciting and innovative lung cancer research, it would make a lot of sense.

Congressmen and women, are you reading? Could you sign on?

Even if you're not a Congressperson - but you'd like to see them sign on - you can do some "pick and shovel" work yourself. Go to this site and you'll learn how to find out the email address of your Congressperson and how you can email your representative. If your rep is one of the people who co-signed, please email them to say thank you. If your rep hasn't yet signed - email him or her and tell him why it's so important to get their support. It's so crucial that our members of Congress hear from us. They listen to their constituents, so please send them a note!

And if you're not from Massachusetts, you can use that link to contact your member of Congress too.

Together, we can make a difference.

We Can't Forget The Ones We Lose

I went to an American Lung Association event last night called "An Evening in Paris" that really blew me away - in a good way. Because of the American Lung Association's history of ignoring lung cancer, I wasn't expecting to be so moved - but I was - particularly by one of the honorees.

The event was a fundraiser, but also an opportunity to honor scientists and doctors for their groundbreaking lung cancer research. As we all know, the only way that we are going to reduce the staggering mortality rates from lung cancer is from new research.

One of the doctors honored was a female cardio-thoracic surgeon from Brigham & Women's hospital - one of the few women in the world with that particular job; another was a researcher who's working on a way to determine whether or not suspicious nodules caught on CT scans are cancerous or not - which would help to further an early detection protocol.

Those researchers were inspiring, but the person who moved me the most was the doctor honored for her work with palliative care and lung cancer. Her name is Dr. Jennifer Temel, and she's one of the doctors on the front lines, dealing with real patients who die every day. I've met her several times before - the first time was two years ago when she was covering the weekend shift, filling in for my mom's doctor at MGH. She stopped in while she was "on call" and we learned that she's also my mom's neighbor's lung cancer doctor. This disease touches many, near and far.

Dr. Temel reminded us all that while we ARE making advances, the reality is that over 150,000 Americans will still die this year from lung cancer. We cannot forget the vast majority of patients for whom there is no cure and their families who are left behind to mourn.

Even at MGH, where Dr. Temel works and where they test every tumor for genetic mutations, the reality is that only a handful of people will be eligible for the latest personalized medicines based on those genetic tests. As much as she and her colleagues want new treatments to be available for everyone right now - the reality is that they aren't - and they won't be - for a while.

Palliative care is always a difficult topic to address, and it was brave of her to bring it up in a room that was all about research, hope and fundraising for a cure, but what she said is that we still need to work on helping people at the end stage of their disease. We need to help people when they die.

Sadly, the majority of lung cancer patients are diagnosed at a late stage, and for them, death is an inevitable part of their journey. As such, they should be able to leave this earth with as much dignity and as little suffering as possible.

My mom was one of those patients. Tumor testing wasn't available when my mother was at MGH and even if it had been, as a former smoker and with squamous cell NSCLC, there weren't (and still aren't) a lot of options open to patients like her. The only option for her at the time (and at one of the best hospitals in the world) was platinum-based chemotherapy - and in her case, even that wasn't an option because she got so sick so fast. My mom's case was unusually aggressive, but what wasn't (and still isn't) unusual about her case is that she was treated palliatively instead of curatively. In late stage lung cancer, all that can sometimes be done is palliative care because there simply aren't enough treatments for late stage lung cancer. Until those treatments are available, we have to treat every patient - including the ones who are going to die.

So I am so grateful to Dr. Temel and to all of the other thoracic oncologists who deal with real patients every day - real patients who die because those other options aren't available for everyone yet. I thank them for continuing to come to work every day no matter what and for continuing to do research when they're not doing their clinical work. I thank them for continuing to solider on, even when they must get discouraged in the face of so much death and tragedy.

If we all work together, someday there will be less palliative care and more curative care for lung cancer. We're not there yet - so we can't forget the ones who are left behind in the wake of all of the exciting research that we celebrate. We can't forget the ones who won't see a benefit from the research in their lifetime.

I am so glad that doctors like Dr. Temel are not forgetting those who are left behind. I am forever grateful.

Shine a Light on Lung Cancer - Boston '09

Just thought I’d share about our event in Boston last week. It was incredible!

Over 400 people packed into the Prudential Center in Boston to honor loved ones and learn about lung cancer.

Five of Boston's major cancer centers were represented, all at tables lined up next to each other including Dana Farber, Mass General Hospital, Beth Israel, Brigham & Women and Boston Medical Center.

Several lung cancer advocacy groups were at tables as well including the National Lung CancerPartnership, Lungevity, Uniting Against Lung Cancer and Upstaging Lung Cancer.

It was so phenomenal to see all of these hospitals and advocacy groups standing side by side, offering the community so much hope about lung cancer advocacy and research.

Our local ABC news anchor, Heather Unruh, whose mother is a lung cancer survivor, was an eloquent emcee, setting a tone of hope for the evening.

Our Senate President, Terese Murray, pledged to support lung cancer research and shared her personal connection with lung cancer – her best friend was diagnosed a year ago. She then read the state proclamation declaring November Lung Cancer Awareness Month.

People who were just walking by stopped to hear the speakers because they had been affected by lung cancer. One woman had lost her mother the day before the vigil, but she saw one of our signs and decided she had to come.

We had 6 speakers who shared their personal stories including Linnea Duff, a never-smoker diagnosed in her early 40’s at a late stage and who is currently 18 months into a clinical trial at MGH for her ALK-4 mutation and doing incredibly well;

Other speakers included Deidre Malloy, a 7 year, Stage IIIB NSCLC survivor, Rich Monopoli, who lost his wife Sara Thomas Monopoli less than two years ago when she was only 35 and had just given birth to their only child; Stephanie Fellingham Brumett, the wife of Kevin Brumett who was an incredible advocate and spoke out whenever he could until he succumbed to his disease last May at the age of 31.

And finally, Diane Legg, the Co-chair of Lung Cancer Alliance-Massachusetts shared her story of survival and hope as a 5-year lung cancer survivor and mother to 3 young boys.

We read out loud the names of 400 lung cancer survivors as well as those we lost to this disease, like my mother.

There were many tears shed - but also so much hope in the room as we heard from some of Boston's top doctors speak of the incredible research that's being done to help find personalized treatments for lung cancer.

It was a phenomenal way to start Lung Cancer Awareness Month in Massachusetts.

Congratulations to everyone who is doing something fabulous for lung cancer awareness month, from incredible fundraising to much-needed awareness-building and media exposure. We're not sitting back and letting lung cancer be ignored. We’re all making BIG noise about this disease.

Every little thing we do takes us closer to a cure. We ARE the lung cancer movement - and we're moving!

My appearance on MYFOXDC!

My appearance on WPIX-TV in NYC!

Last week, I was THRILLED to appear on WPIX-TV's morning show in NYC to talk about my "Ten Things You Should Never Pay Full Price For."
It was a whirlwind and a total blast - and I'll be doing it again next week in DC on the Fox Morning News show.
Check out my New York appearance here:

Nantucket Fundraiser for Lung Cancer

Meryl Bralower, a fabulous and dynamic woman that I know from Boston-area lung cancer advocacy work has put together a terrific fundraiser for Lung Cancer. It's a staged reading of the book "The Hot Flash Club", written by Nancy Thayer.

They had a staged reading of this book on the island back in June and it was apparently a sell-out!

If you like Nantucket and want to support a good cause, come join us! Plus, it's midweek so there are reasonable B&B rates. I found some pretty good deals at The Century House and The Sherbourne Inn, for a start.

Here are the event details:


Host: Meryl Bralower

Location:
The Chicken Box
16 Dave St
Nantucket, MA 02554 US

When:
Wednesday, August 26, 6:00PM to 8:00PM

Phone: 508 257 9600



From the Evite:
We are pleased to invite you to a staged reading of Nancy Thayer's book, "The Hot Flash Club" to benefit Uniting Against Lung Cancer New England

Make it a girls' night out and bring your friends to the reception at 6pm and the reading at 7.

You will be supporting a cause that increasingly affects women.

Single Tickets are $75 in advance or at the door.

If you are interested in being a Benefactor $1000, Sponsor $250 or Supporter $150, let me know and I will send you the forms and you can register in advance.

This show, presented by Seaside Shakespeare features Judy Seinfeld, Annie Breeding, and Lisa McCandless directed by Laura Gallagher Byrne. In June it played to a full house. So reserve early.

Come and join the fun.

www.unitingagainstlungcancer.org
Funding innovative research and raising awareness

Great New Video Made By My Friend Tracy

My friend Tracy Sestili of The Beverly Fund has a great new video that shows the real faces of lung cancer.

Take a look and if you like what you see, pass it on!

Are You At Risk for Lung Cancer?

If you're at risk, how do you find out, and if so, what can you do about it? The Lung Cancer Alliance just launched an awesome new section of their website that answers those questions as well as presenting all of the latest screening and early detection options for those at risk. Check it out!

This weekend, I became a Twit

I just got back from BlogHer, the 3-day conference where 1500 female bloggers (mostly "Mommy Bloggers) take over a hotel for something that kind of resembles a high school reunion/sorority party/Mary Kay convention/Baby Fair.

I knew I'd come back transformed in some way and I have. I've become a Twit. I am no longer a Twitter neophyte. Oh no. This weekend, I used the service to find a Blogher blogger on the outbound flight, make dinner plans with perfect strangers, stalk a group of savings bloggers, take notes at the conference, re-tweet better notes and get flight delay alerts from someone I'd met the night before. And that's just a few things I did on Twitter.


I promise to write more later about the conference, but in case anyone actually reads this teeny tiny little blog, I just wanted to say hi and let you know that a post is coming soon. It might even come later today, but since I have a job, I have to squeeze it in between deadlines so I can keep the aforementioned job.

Not that I'd lose it for blogging. I do work in the internets, after all, but a girl's gotta get some work done!

Back later!

Shocking and sad news

The other night I went to dinner in the North End section of Boston with my friend Pat. Pat owns The Salon at 10 Newbury and has become my friend since my mom died.

She's the wonderful woman who helped find and shape the beautiful wig that Mom wore during her illness and turned what could have been a sad and depressing day - being fitted for a wig while you still have hair in preparation for the inevitable, undeniable evidence that you really have cancer - into something lovely, compassionate, and even enjoyable.

Anyway, Pat and I were having after-dinner coffee at one of the North End's most famous cafes when I spotted something on a decorative pedastal that caught my eye. It was a picture of my childhood hairdresser Richard.

This was completely out of context for so many reasons, not the least of which is that his salon was in Beacon Hill, a totally different Boston neighborhood from where we were currently having coffee. (Beacon Hill is pictured above.)

As I got closer to the pedastal, I saw that there were other framed pictures of people, most of them with brass plaques engraved with the words "in memory of." All of the people in these frames had passed away,and my heart sank because I knew this meant that Richard must have passed away too.

I asked the waitress about the people in the frames and she said that Richard was "the cafe owner's brother. He took his own life."

This took my breath away. It still does. I've heard people say "he/she was the last person you'd ever expect to take his own life" but in this case, it's the truth. Richard was the last person I'd expect to take his own life.

My mother and I came to know Richard when I was 13, after she'd been dating this guy Rob, sort of posh Beacon Hill type. Their relationship ended, but a new one with Richard began. Even though Mom and I lived 25 miles north of Boston, we trekked into the city every time we needed a haircut and into the haven of tranquility that was Richard's salon.

We did this for about 15 years, through college and into my twenties. Richard persuaded me to stop getting perms and segued me into the style that I still have today. In fact, Richard was the first person to talk me into highlighting my hair. And he really had to talk me into it!

It was the early 90's, I was a college freshman and for some unknown reason I wanted to be "natural." Richard convinced me that he could still make me look "natural", but it would be a huge improvement on the naturally blah color I had (he didn't use those words.)

He actually said "Julia, it's going to change your life." And he was absolutely right. Until I went blonde, I was neutral to the opposite sex. Neutral, neutered, whatever. They didn't notice me.

After Richard gingerly placed a few honey-blonde highlights into my mousey-blonde hair, that very night I was "noticed" by a beautiful boy with blue eyes from Connecticut named Elijah. I was so thrilled by this experience, I went to the salon the next day to tell Richard. "You were right," I said. "It did change my life." The next weekend, I met my first boyfriend Evan.

Even though I lived in London and later Los Angeles, after college I'd always visit Richard when I came to town, partly because I loved seeing him and partly because he gave me the most ridiculous deal: $80 for a cut and color.

Richard worked with a partner, Al, and as it turns out, they'd worked together since 1974. Because of this longevity, I wasn't quite sure of Richard's age. It turns out he was younger than I thought, only 49 when he died. That means he was only in his mid-late 20's when we met.

My mom and I were always frazzled and harried when we arrived at the salon because as lovely as Beacon Hill is, parking can be a little bit difficult. Plus, we were always running late.

Richard and Al would greet us with open arms, tell us to have a seat and not worry, have a cup of coffee, or maybe a glass of wine or pastry if it was Christmas time.

There was always something calming about Richard. He put people at ease, made them feel comfortable, normal, relaxed, understood. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd found his cosy niche in life and hadn't a care in the world other than the day to day responsibilities of raising a family and owning a small business. At some point in the early 90's, Richard and Al had downsized their salon so that it was just the two of them, and that took the managerial stress away too.

Richard was married with two daughters, adorable dark curly-haired beauties who he always displayed in pictures on his mirror. Every time you'd go in, there would be a new picture of the girls. The girls skiing in New Hampshire, by the Christmas tree, at school, etc. When I started going to Richard, they were toddlers and over the years, I watched them grow on that hairdressing mirror. They were 18 and 20 when Richard died.

At some point in the 5-8 years before Mom got sick, she stopped going to Richard. I don't think it was personal. I think it had something to do with the parking and also just the idea that it was time for a change. Because of that, I didn't see Richard as much either, although I'd still stop in from time to time.

When Mom was sick, the hopsital was co-incidentally a 5 minute walk from the salon, so one day I decided to pop in to say hi. I was shocked to see a closed salon and a note from Al saying that they'd decided to retire after 35 years of business.

This was in October 07. He'd put the note up in August. I was surprised and sad that I'd just missed them, but didn't really think too much more of it. Mom was getting sicker and sicker by the day and soon, my thoughts were only of her.

Unbenownst to me, Richard had passed away on Juy 4, 2007, three months earlier.

Al had closed the shop and moved on, too sad to continue the business on his own.

I'm still in shock over this loss. I didn't have a lot of men in my life growing up, and in a way, Richard was one of the male influences that had an impact on me. I always thought of him as such a solid, stable, warm, kind and gentle guy. Masculine but sensitive, loving, kind and capable. I always thought, I'd like to marry a guy like Richard, someone stable and calm, a good dad, a good husband.

I guess we never know what's happening inside another person's heart, mind and soul. I wish he'd been able to heal whatever was hurting him, but that wasn't the path he had to follow.

I know this would have shocked and upset my mom a lot. I hope the two of them are up in Heaven having a cup of coffee and a laugh. Maybe he's keeping her hair looking gorgeous and hopefully she's learned to not be quite so late...

RIP, Richard. You turned me into a blonde goddess and I haven't looked back since. I'll never forget you or your little salon on Charles Street. You truly did change my life, and the lives of so many men and women of Boston who had the pleasure of knowing you.

Love,
Julia

I did it!

Sorry for the delay in blog posts. Work and the rest of my life suddenly got a little hectic and I couldn't blog as often as I wanted to... but I had to share a little moment with y'all since it's something I blogged about just a few weeks ago.

I finally ran a 5K in under 25 minutes! And... it was mostly due to the sage coaching advice of my friend Mike, also previously featured in this blog.

Just before the race started, he said he'd read my blog and knew I had this goal so he said "When you get to the first bridge, I know it's tempting to slow down but don't. This is where you have to pick up the pace. Don't start so fast and then pick up the pace between the bridges."

The point he was talking about is about a mile or so in, usually where I sort of relax from the fast start.

I'm usually catching my breath at this point, not speeding up, but I figured he's shaved minutes off of his time in 18 months. I'll take his advice.

It worked! I did it in 24:43, which was about a whole minute faster than two weeks earlier and 20 seconds faster than my previous best.

Woo hoo!

The race happens again tonight so we'll see if I can do it again. Last week was a reverse of the course, so I'm not sure. But I'll give it my best shot!

"How much are muskets going for these days?"

America loves lung cancer awareness!
Well, they do on the 4th of July, anyway.

On Saturday, I marched in the Chelmsford, MA July 4th parade with the National Lung Cancer Partnership - and what a different reception we got there than at the Health and Fitness Expo! They loved us!

They clapped and cheered as we walked by with our banners and leaflets, just as if we'd been a marching band or a group of Revolutionary War re-enactors. Unlike most other marchers, we didn't even throw free candy to the crowd and they still loved us!

I think the weather had something to do with it, but we were also the only cancer advocacy group marching, so people didn't seem to mind reading our leaflets and learning about our cause. Their hearts and minds were open, their faces were smiling, and it was a pleasure to march along in the name of lung cancer awareness.

It was a pretty awesome parade, and I recommend it to any paradophiles. There are several local re-enactment fife and drum bands, mostly from the Lexington and Concord areas, which are also known as the seat of the American Revolution.

On the bus to the start line, we were crammed in with assorted other parade participants and I heard all kinds of interesting chatter. My favorite line was from a former re-enactor who's now a Knights of Columbus member to a man dressed in full Colonial Minuteman garb: "So, how much are muskets going for these days?" he asked, wistfully.

All in all, it was a great experience and I commend Suzanne Dahlberg for coming up with the idea. It was free and easy grassroots advocacy in action. Can't think of a better way to celebrate my freedom than by working towards freedom from lung cancer.

Boston Health and Fitness Expo

This weekend, I worked the Lung Cancer Alliance booth at the Boston Health and Fitness Expo. It was inspiring, enlightening and exasperating, all at once.

It's a free event so there are a fair number of punters looking for swag. The crowd was... definitely an interesting cross section of America. That being said, there were actually quite a few people who were both interested in and touched by what we had to say and I think the whole endeavor was 100% worth it.

Some observations from the weekend:

It's the Lung Cancer Alliance, not the Smoking Cessation Alliance

Roughly one fifth of the people who walked up to our table said something like "I quit smoking last year" or "My dad still smokes. I wish he didn't."

For them, lung cancer equals smoking. The two are synonymous.

With those people, I tried to explain that that 60% of those diagnosed with lung cancer either never smoked or quit smoking decades ago, and that only 10% of smokers get lung cancer and that 20% of women who get lung cancer never touched a cigarette.

It got repetitive, but I didn't mind. They didn't know the facts about lung cancer, and I was able to enlighten them a little bit.

A Safe Haven

Some people would walk by the booth and inch closer, with an interested, even misty-eyed look on their faces. They had clearly been touched by lung cancer. For some, our booth became a solace, a safe and comfortable place where family members could talk about their loved ones who had passed on from or survived lung cancer.

Anyone who's ever been touched by lung cancer knows that it doesn't always elicit a warm and fuzzy response. You always run the risk of getting "the look" - the "she must have smoked so therefore she brought it upon herself" look.

90% of the time, they'll come right out and ask, "Did he/she smoke?" But when you're talking with another person about the very painful experience of losing your parent, spouse, sibling or friend, you really don't want to engage in a discussion about assigning blame. You just want sympathy, like anyone else who's lost a loved one. If you were talking about losing your dad to heart disease, you wouldn't want to immediately answer questions regarding how many steaks or doughnuts he ate, or how many cigarettes he smoked. It's the same for us. And at the Lung Cancer Alliance booth, we understood that. We've all been asked that question, so we know not to even go there, unless someone wants to. We were a safe haven.

The Very Informed

I was surprised and happy to see how informed so many people who stopped by to sign our Lung Cancer Mortality Reduction Act Petition were.

I'd start my schpeil about how lung cancer needs more money for research and several people grabbed for the pen to sign the petition right away and said things like "Damn right it does" or "You know it!" This was surprising and uplifting to see.

No Survivors

Interestingly, I didn't meet one new lung cancer survivor in the entire two day experience. Not one. The only people who came up to our booth who'd been touched by lung cancer were the friends and family members of lung cancer patients, most of whom had passed.

One Jerk

Finally, although there were a large amount of freaks and downright lunatics, no one really bothered me except for one man. He badgered me and badgered me about the statistics, questioning the smoking thing and ultimately he got personal, questioning whether I'd done an autopsy on my mother, along with other completely insensitive and inane questions. I had to ask him to leave because he upset me so much.

But in spite of that one bad apple, the event was totally worth it. We reached a lot of people who'd never heard the facts about the disease, and a good deal of others who've been affected by lung cancer but rarely feel as though they have an outlet or a place to turn to.

That felt good.

R.I.P., Farrah

Farrah Fawcett was an incredible woman. She transcended "Jiggle TV" and Charlie's Angels to become one of those iconic survivors ... and then she was hit with cancer.

She survived that until she couldn't survive it any longer - and she shared every grueling moment with us.

I loved her for that.

She used her celebrity to share her most intimate struggles and moments with us and in doing so, she became not Farrah Fawcett the sexy pin-up girl with the delectable smile and pert physique. She became Farrah from California, the cancer patient, the cancer survivor, and now, the cancer angel.

Thanks for sharing your beautiful spirit with us Farrah.

My friend Lori Hope wrote a beautiful blog post that everyone should read. Go and check it out.

Good Times!

Every Tuesday night in the summer, there's a super-fun 5K race series in Lowell called Good Times! Their logo, which also doubles as their "medals" in the form of coasters, is above.

I found out about the race series last year from my friend Mike, who I met at another 5K in Lowell, Lisa's Run for Lung Cancer.

Mike's intensely into running - so much so that even though I beat him in that first 5K when we met, in the year and a half since, he has surpassed me to a level that I will probably never reach.

I can't seem to break 25 minutes. Mike is now in the 22s, I believe. And he's older than me! Granted, he's taller than me. Much taller. And he's male. And has the typical runner's build. But still.

But one thing Mike does that I don't? He works at it. I mean he really works at it. I just show up and hope that osmosis is going to take my time down below 25 minutes. It sort of worked that way when I went from 27 minute times to 25 minute times. But I think my luck has run out. I need to do some good, hard work. And I'll do it. When I'm good and ready.

But the Good Times race series is so much fun because they have silly themes that people really get into.

Last week, at about the 1 mile mark, there were ten 12" X 12" boxes that were all empty - except one mystery box that held $100. If you were brave enough (and if there were any boxes left), you could grab a box and carry it the remaining 2.1 miles to take a chance on winning the loot.

Now, you might think it's a no brainer, that of course you'd take the money and run. But with so few boxes, only the fastest runners get there first - and those fast runners are pretty competitive people who don't want to ruin their times. For them, that choice is a struggle. That's why the race is actually called "The Temptation 5K."

By the time I got to the 1 mile mark, all of the boxes were gone, so I didn't have that struggle. But I know what my choice would have been: Screw the box! I can barely carry myself, let alone a bulky box!

The woman who won is actually a very cool woman who I've met many times and I couldn't have imagined the $100 going to a better person.

Next week is Classic T-shirt week, whatever that means to you, and they'll be giving out prizes for the best t-shirts.

After the races, everyone hangs out for cheap beer and $1 pizza and the gazillions of raffle prizes on offer.

I never really thought I was going to be the kind of person who did 5K races every Tuesday night. In my early twenties, with martini in hand, teetering on 4-inch stilettos, I would have blown smoke in your face and laughed.

But as we age, our priorities change. I really love this series, even though I'll never win. But the great thing is, they give prizes if you beat yourself, if you obtain a personal record (PR, in running terms.)

My PR for the 5K is 25:04. At some point this summer, I will do 24:59. I just might have to work at it a bit...

Age Defiance

When I was 20, I got a job working for an extremely glamorous writer in London. She was hugely successful, fabulous with a capital F and she NEVER told anyone her age.

Her D.O.B. was a carefully guarded secret, and being her assistant, I was one of the privileged few who knew the real date.

Now to make things clear, this woman did not look her age. She had incredible skin and had a sort of "indeterminate" age.

When we met, she was 36. I think she wanted people to presume she was around 28. She was a newspaper columnist, and I think it was more impressive to appear to be as perceptive and brilliant in her late twenties than it would have been to be in her mid thirties. Plus, men prefer younger women and she loved men.

To me, though, it always seemed kind of silly. Age is one of those things that, while you can try to hide it, it's easy to figure out - or at least to guestimate.

Once people start talking about their lives, anyone can do the math and say, oh, she must be about X age. To learn that someone lied about it just makes them look vain and sort of sad. Worse, to learn that someone won't talk about it, just makes you want to know it more.

I've always looked younger than I am. If I wanted to pretend I was 7 or 8 years younger, I easily could. But I think that would be a lot of work.

What if people from my past meet the people from my present? I'd be called out as a liar. Plus, I love the look I get when people realize I'm older than they thought I was. It gives me a charge. It makes me smile.

Also, I don't want to live in some weird bubble where I'm in constant denial of my own real age and the aging process. I've always been a fan of acting one's age (most of the time) and I like milestones, comings of age, the maturation process.

I am lucky to look young (for now) so I do put some effort into preserving my youthful looks, but I don't want to wake up one day thinking I've been 29 for 15 years with the harsh reality that I'm actually pushing 50.

Also, because I've known so many people with cancer and know so many others who've lost their lives to cancer, I truly think that we should all celebrate each birthday with as much gratitude as we can.

In about 3 weeks, I'm going to be 35. It sort of feels weird to see it in print, but it's the truth. God willing, I'll live to be 95. That's my goal. But if not, I want to cherish every moment, every year and enjoy myself as I age.

I remember being 15 and having a complete consciousness that "Julia of 35" was going to be different from "Julia of 15" and I wondered, "What would Julia of 35 think of Julia of 15?"

I think she was a pretty awesome 15 year-old. She was wise beyond her years, talented, smart, loving, insecure sometimes and arrogant at others, but she was coming into her own.

And I wonder what Julia of 60 will think of Julia at 35. I hope she likes her. I'm pretty sure she will.

Family Time

One definite perk of moving back home to the East Coast after 11 years in LA is that I get to feel connected with my past, my heritage, my family, etc.

This week was filled with events and coincidences that couldn't have happened if I still lived in LA.

On Thursday, my cousin needed to talk to me about some important issues in his life. He and I are one month apart. In fact, I'm the older one by about 5 weeks, although he's about 4 times my size and has been since birth. Anyway, when he needed the ear of someone who's known him a while, but isn't too wrapped up in his day-to-day life, I was there. I happened to be just a few towns over from where he was, so it was easy to get to him. We spent the night reminiscing and catching up... something we haven't done in years.

Yesterday, I went to a wedding with my mom's old friend from high school. The wedding was for the daughter of my mom's other school friend, so there were a few people from their home town of Beverly, MA.

First, I met a very nice man named Bobo. He's the widowed husband of my mom's old friend Marilyn Monroe (that's honestly her name - and she was born before Marilyn was famous, so it's just a coincidence.) In addition, there was a woman named Kathy who happened to be the widow of a man named Everett, who apparently was great friends with my dad. She said she'd been to my parents wedding in 1973. She could actually remember when the wedding was. And she asked me "Is your dad still so cute?" Hmm. Well, yes. Of course!

Later that night, I wound up at the Italian American Club in Beverly, MA, to see my mom's friend's son perform. That place is such a throwback! People were actually smoking indoors and I saw haircuts I haven't seen since 1979. I also saw my mom's first cousin Patrick, someone I haven't seen in about 10 years.

Pat was one of my mom's favorites, and he was a lot like her. Brilliant, somewhat misunderstood, a loner with a mind of diamonds.

Apparently he was top of his class in high school, but he went to Vietnam and like a lot of men in his situation, life wasn't as easy after that. If I had been a boy, would have been named Patrick and I'm sure he had something to do with that.

It was nice bumping into him and it reminded me that it feels good to be home.

Part of what I loved about living in LA was creating my own "home," my own family out of friends. I had "cousins" Mary and Marty, Tasha, Drew, Mike, Liz and Nancy. But they weren't my actual family, the one you don't choose. They were the family I chose. And being 3,000 miles away, I never randomly ran into distant (or not so distant) cousins.

Now that I'm hitting my mid-thirties, it's nice to be more "family-oriented" as they say. Hey, it might not last forever, but it's good to reconnect with everyone, remember my roots, so to speak.

But... I still miss cousin Marty and Mary and Tasha Drew, Nancy Liz and Mike and can't wait to see them mid-August! A different kind of family reunion...

Text Offenders

As some of my friends know, I have several pet peeves. One of them is bare feet at weddings. The other is bare feet on car dashboards.

The third has nothing to do with feet, and everything to do with respect. Pls don't cancel via txt. Kthxbai.

It's happened to me a few times and it always shrieks of cowardice and an utter lack of respect. It usually happens close to the time of the appointed meeting, the person knows they're in the wrong, and they either can't be bothered to call you or don't want to deal with hearing the sound of your actual disappointment - or possibly even upsetness - so they just fire off a text instead.

It's ultimate passive aggression... or passive complacency, at least.

This happened to me yesterday, and I will not disclose the name of the text offender, but after canceling me via text 5 hours before our appointed dinner date, she didn't call to make sure I got the text, even after I never responded during those 5 hours.

Ten minutes before our date, I called to say I was running 5 minutes late and would be right there. Her response? "Oh, didn't you get my text?"

Um, no. I didn't.

She wasn't coming to dinner and I'd rushed out of a meeting to make our dinner date. Not only that, this was the rescheduling of a previous dinner date that she'd canceled via text, and knowing she'd be coming to my condo, I also had spent the morning before work readying it for company.

To her defense (only a little bit) I just got a new Blackberry and it puts the texts and emails together (which is annoying and something I have to fix) but I was aware of this and knowing she's a texter, I checked my phone repeatedly before, during and after my meeting. Somehow I still missed the text. And she never called to verify I'd received it.

I will say that the said text offender is younger than me by over 10 years, so there's definitely a generational thing going on. Clearly no one ever taught her proper phone, text and appointment etiquette. I think that those kind of manners are left untaught today. Parents don't know enough about technology to instill texting values in the young, and they apparently don't teach this kind of thing in schools.

The sad thing is that she might not have meant to be offensive. In her world, maybe everyone's a text offender.

But in my world, it just annoying.

Summer Fridays

Sometimes, people ask me if I miss being a freelance journalist. Today, I can say with total confidence "NO!"

I work a 9-5 job at a great company, the kind of company that wants you to work hard while you're there and enjoy your life when you're not. Ie, it really is 9-5.

Compared to my former life as a freelance, where you NEVER had freedom and were always "on the clock" and beating a deadline, this is a kind of ecstasy that I've never quite experienced before. I love it.

When the clock strikes 5, some of my co-workers literally bolt out of the door. I still feel weird leaving as early as 5 and prefer to stay til 6 or so, but if I did want to leave then, no one would bat an eyelid.

Well, today, they announced we're getting even MORE free time.

They're instituting something called "Summer Fridays" where we can leave the office at 1pm on Fridays.

I feel as though I've died and gone to heaven. I mean, if I can't get my work done in that time, I can't leave the office, and that's totally possible... but I CAN leave if I want to. I could come in early and blast through everything and actually ENJOY myself of a random afternoon.

I could get errands done, start a weekend trip early, beat the summer traffic, get my hair done.

There's so much I could do.

Let the summer begin!

Scenes from The Bunker Hill Day Parade

In the 11 years that I lived in LA, I don't think I watched one parade. Oh wait. I did see one, but I had to go to Huntington Beach, so that doesn't count.

In New England, you could see a parade every weekend if you wanted to, they're that common. For me, though, they're still a treat that's as rare as fried clams so when I found out there was a parade marching right through my 'hood, I was all over it.

The Battle of Bunker Hill Parade commemorates the bloody and fateful battle that took place 250 years ago, literally steps from my condo.

It’s a nice parade, filled with tons of Revolutionary War re-enacters and pretty awesome fife drum bands as well as our own current navy band marching in full uniform.

One thing I had forgotten about in terms of parades is how much politicians love to march. Everyone from Mayor “Mumbles” Menino to our state rep Geno Flaherty took part, and one other character who didn't quite fit.

Yup. Chewie marched in the parade. Maybe they were trying to say that if the force had been with us, we would have won that battle. Not quite sure about that one.

Other various and sundry Charlestown characters marched or floated through, including some war widows and Gold Star Moms, which are mothers who have lost sons in a war. This woman wasn't part of either of those floats, but she must have done something good because she looks like she's been through a lot.




The day actually began with me running the Battle of Bunker Hill 8K race, which has a very challenging hill 2 miles in and ended with impromptu grilling of steaks with Chuck, my dad and Chuck's daughter Polly.

All in all, a great day of Americana, with road races, parades and bbqs - oh, and the Red Sox game was on in the background. Doesn't get more American than that!

Local BlogHer MeetUp

Saturday, I went to a BlogHer event in Hudson Mass to meet some local bloggers that we might possibly feature on the re-launch of my company's website... and it was definitely worth the drive.

I was met at the door by Janice Newell Bissex, one of the women behind a fantastic healthy eating/cooking and recipe site called "Meal Makeover Moms." She's got a very professional-looking site and even her own radio show. She'll stay on our radar for sure!

Next, I met the wife of a man who was representing the "BlogHim" demographic and has a blog called "Daddy Scratches" (www.daddyscratches.com). Yes, my mind went to the gutter immediately at the thought of his blog's name, but apparently it's a reference to his scratchy face when he doesn't shave - a kid thing.

While munching on fruit salad and mingling with fellow bloggers, I heard that there was someone named "The Coupon Goddess" in the other room. She was someone I definitely had to meet.

I made a beeline for the sun porch and planted myself at a table of bloggers, including The Coupon Goddess.

Melanie, as she's known IRL is a SAHM mother of 4, who puts Coupon Mom to shame in terms of the amount of mind-blowing deals she gets each week. Her blog is primarily a journal of how and what she saves.

A typical day out for her can include spending $31.35 and saving $341.19. Seriously. She ends up getting a lot of stuff for free, but it doesn't sit in her basement, gathering dust. She supports an entire troop of soldiers in Iraq and sends them boxes of goodies each week.

She's one of these women that you just have to stop and admire. Four kids, gorgeous and polished, and she also makes this phenomenal savings sound so easy.

Some quotes from her yesterday: "I haven't paid for a cleaning product in over 10 years." "I actually earned $400 by shopping at the grocery store last week."

She even answered difficult questions about how to save on Kosher food and how to save on organic vegetables and meats. Watch her space. I think she's got huge potential.

Her site again is: www.thecoupongoddess.blogspot.com

Two other women at the table who have great blogs include Susan, who writes a completely charming "travel blog" that's not always about far-flung destinations (www.transienttravels.com) and Megan, who has a fun shopping blog (www.agirlmustshop.com).

I hope to get to meet all of them again soon. And,who knows? Maybe we can even work together one of these days...

My 10 seconds of fame

Last night, in the middle of dinner at Bertucci's, my Blackberry started buzzing like crazy. There was an opportunity for me to comment on the 11 o'clock news about an exciting new piece of legislation - a ban on the use of the marketing terms "Light" or "Low-tar" in reference to cigarettes.

This is huge news for anyone with an interest in cancer - and spefically lung cancer since we're always tarred with the smoking brush (pardon the pun) so I didn't want to pass it up. But at the same time, it was a bit of a challenge. And I was at a pizza joint.

As lung cancer advocates, we work very hard to try and erase the smoking stigma that plagues lung cancer patients and their families. Yes, smoking is a risk factor for lung cancer, but smoking is also the leading cause of heart disease and is the leading risk factor for a number of other cancers including bladder, kidney, esophageal, pancreatic, cervical and even some leukemias. Only 20% of smokers die from lung cancer, and 10-15% of people who get lung cancer never smoked at all, so it's not a total cause and effect type of equation.

Unfortunately though, lung cancer still bears the brunt of the smoking stigma and that's the main battle we fight in trying to get people to have compassion for the disease and also to get more funding for research so that we can start to finally increase survival rates. Lung cancer survival rates haven't changed in 35 years! They've remained stuck at a paltry 15% - and it's mostly because people view lung cancer as a disease that people bring on themselves.

Anyway, I wanted to talk about the light and low-tar cigarettes without linking it 100% to lung cancer, which was a little bit complicated and I was more than a little bit nervous.

I ended up saying something like this:

"My mom died from lung cancer and although she quit smoking 18 years before her diagnosis, she did smoke - and like many smokers, she thought by smoking "light" cigarettes, she was making the healthy choice. The truth is, there is no healthy choice when it comes to cigarettes and smoking isn't just a huge risk factor for lung cancer, which my mother had, but also for cardio-vascular disease and a number of other cancers from bladder to pancreatic."

At least I HOPE I was that eloquent!

I think more likely my quote was peppered with "ums" and "ahhhs" and "you knows." It all happened so fast. One minute I was scarfing down pizza. The next I was standing outside Bertucci's with a camera in my face. Oh, and the reporter, Sean Kelly, is super-tall so he stood in the gutter while I stood on the curb so we'd appear somewhat similar in height. Just a little visual for you all.

In the end, the segment didn't air until about 12:30 am after the Lakers playoff game. I fell asleep on the couch waiting to see it. Chuck saw it though and said I "looked good" which is always nice to hear, but he also said that it was "so quick" and I was on for about 10 seconds.

In hindsight, that might be a good thing. I can look at this experience as a chance to practice my "TV" skills and if there's another opportunity for us to comment on something that relates to lung cancer in the future, I'll be that much more ready for my "close-up." Maybe next time I won't have to wipe the pizza crumbs off my face seconds before air time.

I don't want to be a bitter old hag, really.

Sometimes, as a lung cancer advocate, you can feel a little bitter. Or at least I can. Let me explain:

Last night I went to my monthly meeting at Mass General Hospital in Boston. I’m part of the Patient and Family Advisory Council (PFAC), which is yet another example of how phenomenal MGH is.

MGH actually seeks feedback from former patients and family members about new and current initiatives, new projects and how to spend their money.

The topic that came up last night was “Bucket #5” which is basically a pool of money that hasn’t yet been spent. They want us to help figure out how to spend it.

As part of the exercise, we were given a quick refresher course on all of the fantastic programs available to patients in the MGH Cancer Center from the healing garden to social work and psychiatric care, acupuncture and ride services, support groups, etc, etc.

Then they came to a program which made the bitter creature inside of me start to twitch: pilates classes for breast cancer survivors.

I asked if other types of cancer survivors could join the class, and our group leader said apologetically, no. For one thing, she said, it’s funded with breast cancer money, as a lot of the extra MGH programs are funded by donors. And for the other, breast cancer survivors need this kind of class because of the terribly invasive surgeries they have. They need to rebuild their cores (ie, abdomens) after breast cancer surgery.

I do not begrudge the breast cancer patients their pilates, but this kind of distinction and frankly, class divide, brings out my bitterness.

What about ovarian or uterine cancer survivors? What about stomach cancer patients? Don’t they need their cores strengthened too? And of course, what about lung cancer patients?

Recovering from lung surgery, where in many cases ribs have to be broken in order to access the lungs, is no easy feat.

It would be nice to have a lung cancer-exclusive pilates class too, but the money from the lung cancer community can’t be allocated to such niceties as pilates. The money that we raise has to go straight to research. We have to help people live first and worry about “feeling better” later. Feeling better is a luxury we just can’t afford.

The thing is, breast cancer didn’t always have its own pilates classes and billion dollar foundations. It took the work of a LOT of advocates to stand up and say we ARE going to talk about women’s breasts and we ARE going to advocate for screening.

So when the bitter old hag isn’t screaming in my ears, I look at the pink behemoth of the breast cancer advocacy movement and bow down at her in awe. What they have done is incredible. I just hope we can do it someday too.

And - the upside is that the underdog eventually wins. Cinderella found her prince, the Red Sox won the World Series and hopefully, with enough work, lung cancer will have the luxury of our own pilates classes (and a whole lot more).

Would you like some attitude with your coffee?

I live in Charlestown, a section of the city that used to be home to Boston's Irish-American gangtsas, hoods and bank robbers, but now is overrun with babies, dogs and investment bankers.

One of the things that's so charming about my 'hood is that the townies and the toonies (yuppie scum like me) co-exist pretty happily. They're happy we came in and updated the place. We're happy to have the "character" that keeps real estate prices low.

But where the two worlds divide is in the land of coffee, where you have two options for your morning caffeine rush: Dunkin Donuts and Zume's. Which one you choose separates the wheat from the chaff. Personally, I don't draw a line in the sand. I straddle the fence and decide where to go based on my mood.

Now, one might think that at Dunkins, while you could get "comfort food" in the form of their weak but lovable coffee, calorie-rich muffins, bagels and donuts, you might get a surly attitude from minimum-wage chain-store-working donut-sellers. And while prices would naturally be higher at the highbrow coffee shop Zume's across the street, you'd get some neighborhood charm and friendliness that would make it worth crossing the street.

Not so. In fact, the opposite is true. The workers at Zume's seem as though they are doing you the hugest favor by waiting on you at all. I've rarely seen any of them smile, and I often leave there feeling a little bit hassled and like I've just offended them by paying $7 for a coffee, banana, apple and yogurt.

At Dunkins, the servers are chipper immigrants, with smiles on their face and wry senses of humor, trying to get the morning rush crowd through as quickly as possible. I've rarely felt mistreated and usually walk out of there at max $3.50 lighter.

So, the choice should be clear. I should choose townie over toonie and stay true to my roots - as well as my tolerance for rudeness. But at D&D, for all of it's charm and nostalgia, they only serve muffins, donuts and bagels. No healthy options to be had. If only they had fruit. If only their coffee was a little bit stronger.

Instead, I suffer through surly service at Zume's, watching the carriage corral as the moms who don't work gather to gossip and chat with their perfect toddlers and $500 strollers, probably re-living a routine that's not too dissimilar from Charlestown mothers of yore - just with more expensive coffee.

The real solution to my bourgeois dilemma? Make my coffee at home and tote my own yogurt and fruit to work. But then, what would I have to complain about?

I Had My Jerry Springer Moment

Saturday night, Chuck and I went to see Jerry Springer The Opera and we emerged a little dirtier. It was one of the most irreverent musicals I've ever seen, and I'm not completely sheltered. I mean, I lived in LA for 11 years. I've seen a few things.

For the uninitiated, it's an opera about the Jerry Springer Show, and it's abso-f*cking-lutely hilarious. I don't normally curse, but after 2 hours of this Springer show, it's hard not to.

I'm not saying I didn't like it. I actually thought it was hilarious. But it did that thing that the actual Jerry Springer show does. It made me squirm in my seat, uncomfortable with the prurient nature of what I was watching, cringing at the words being said, the topics being covered. Let's just say there's a lot of toilet humor. And tons of profanity. There is no bleeping in this show - and the curses spoken (and sung) are the absolute worst in the English language.

One of the songs has a chorus that repeats over and over again "What the f*ck, what the f*cking f*cking f*ck?" Seriously. The C-word is used as the main refrain in one song, the word d__bag in another. Jesus is portrayed as a diaper-wearing, whiny victimy "slightly gay" tenor, and the whole thing is definitely blasphemous.

But we liked it. As we were walking out, we were chuckling to ourselves like we'd just done something naughty - as if we'd just had a frisky moment in the bathroom that only we knew about. We've been joking about it for days and our language has certainly gotten more vulgar as a result.

This show was a smash hit in London but for some reason, it never really took off in the States. I think that's partly because it hits a little too close to home for us.

It's easy for the Brits to laugh at our religious zeal and parody our most embarrassing #1 TV show, the one that shows the ugly (but scarily true) underbelly of America. When we're forced to look at it - have it literally "in our faces" - it's not so easy for all of us to take. "Jersey Boys" or "Mama Mia" this is not.

But if Jerry Springer The Opera comes to your city, I highly recommend that you see it. It's an experience, it's a happening, and it's a f*cking fun night out!

Kristine Matson Unsung Hero Award

About a month ago, I went to the Captsone Ceremony for Stand and Deliver, the mentoring program at Lawrence High School, where my mom volunteered. They had asked me to come and present an award in her memory, the Kristine Matson Unsung Hero Award, and I just got a picture of me and Aryln Hernandez, this year's recipient. Thought I'd share it with you all.

Ultimate Boot Camp!

Yesterday I started my first boot camp class of the season. Boot camp is actually Ultimate Boot Camp, a Boston-based company I found last year when I first moved back to the city.

I was looking for a way to meet people and get some regular exercise, and it fit the bill in both departments. I did boot camp last June through September and it looks like I'll be doing the same thing this year!

Last year, I started classes on the Boston Common in June because the Charlestown class was full. That was fun because I got to work out in Back Bay and Beacon Hill - gorgeous neighborhoods that I can't quite afford just yet. Then, for July,August and September, I worked out in my 'hood, Charlestown, just a 10 minute walk or 5 minute drive away (depending on how late I sleep in.)

We primarily work out in Paul Revere Park, a beautifully landscaped outdoor space just across from the famed Zakim Bridge. We often move over to the docks in the Navy Yard which affords stunning morning views of downtown Boston and sometimes we go up to the Bunker Hill Monument, another scenic vista.

Boot camp is Mon-Thurs mornings from 6-7. It can be a challenge to wake up at 5:30 every morning and it takes some adjustment initially, but I love the fact that I get to spend time outside almost every day even though I work a 9-5 job. I love that exercise is done by 7am (unless I want to go for a run after work) and I love meeting new people, often neighbors.

Last year, I met three girlfriends at boot camp, and if I can meet three more friends this summer, I'll be very happy indeed.

Oh, and the instructors, John and Emily, happen to be my next door neighbors, so I can't get away with too much of they'll be knocking on my door...

Kevin Brumett 11/29/77-5/28/09

Yesterday morning, my friend Kevin Brumett lost his battle with lung cancer at age 31.

I met Kevin last August, when we worked together on the Shine a Light on Lung Cancer Vigil Committee. When I met him, I couldn't believe that the picture of health and vitality and optimism before me was one year into an advanced lung cancer diagnosis.

He was truly the nicest guy you could meet, always putting others before himself and I can't begin to express my sadness at this senseless loss. Not that it should matter, but Kevin never smoked. He was athletic and healthy, fit and trim. He was your all-American guy and he got lung cancer at age 29.

His smile lit up every room he walked into. His presence was so strong, so powerful and so positive, I can still feel the warmth of his smile even now.

He is no longer fighting and is no longer with us in body, but his indomitable spirit will live on.

RIP, Kevin. We will miss you terribly. You will never, ever be forgotten.

Help Me Live: 20 Things Cancer Patients Want You To Know

I had the pleasure of meeting Lori Hope last May, when I attended the first Lung Cancer Advocacy Summit. A 7-year lung cancer survivor and author of the book "Help Me Live: 20 Things Cancer Patients Want you To Know," Lori is an absolute doll.

Lori is one of those amazing people who's both spiritual and down to earth, passionate but gentle, sweet but assertive, always questioning, never arrogant, with boundless energy and a wonderful open-mindedness. I've so enjoyed our phone and email chats over the past few months and she's been a complete inspiration to me over the past year in terms of what you can do through the power of the written word - even if you don't have a book contract or journalism assignment.

She does happen to have both of those - she was a former medical reporter, has a blog on Care Pages and wrote her fantastic book mentioned here in 2003 after surviving her lung cancer diagnosis.

This book is a must-read for anyone who's been touched by cancer and wants to know how to talk to your loved ones, what to say and what not to say. For friends and family members, it's such a great guide for what to do in unchartered territory. Most of us have not had a lot of experience with cancer, and when someone is diagnosed, it's like a kick in the stomach - mostly for the patient, but also for the loved ones, friends and family, even work colleagues.

The book is beautifully written and I recommend it to anyone who's been dealt that blow themselves - either as a patient or someone close to a patient. You'll be moved by the stories inside and you'll feel a little better prepared when it comes to talking to and helping the cancer patient in your life.

You can order it at Amazon and other online booksellers as well as at bookstores.