Renewed and Recharged (TMS)

             Today’s post was written by Stephanie Debnath, PMHNP.  She is a psychiatric nurse practitioner who works with TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation).  Full disclosure: she has treated me.  Today she shares her experience providing TMS treatment.  There is a link at the end of the post to the SoCal TMS website for more information.  There are also two links to my book, “Traveling the Healing Journey: Finding the Light in Mental Illness”, which includes an explanation of TMS and shares my experience.  

 

Renewed and Recharged

 

In my 18-year career in Psych Nursing I want to say I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen children with deep emotional disturbances, adults with intense psychological pain, and people of every age battling the extreme loss of quality of life. I’ve watched the recovery of addicts, disordered eating, and multi-faceted psychosis. I’ve seen a lot of lost wars. I’ve worked directly with the refugee, the rich, the poor, the unsheltered, and the celebrity. We all suffer from something. I’ve used my voice, my heart, my brain, and my hands. I’ve applied therapy, medication, electricity, and heavy bandages to try and heal my patients. I felt like I’ve seen it all.

 

The problem with thinking you’ve seen it all, is that you then assume a conclusion about people, the healthcare system, and the state of psychiatry. You assume you only can use what you have in front of you, or what others before you have used. You assume that the type of response you have gotten is exactly what you will always get. You have no desire to try something else, something new, or something different because, well—you’ve seen it all. 

 

In 2011, I started a new job at SoCal TMS Center to do TMS (Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation). I had no idea what I was getting into, but I knew I didn’t want to stay where I was. On my first day of training, I saw a woman, nearly catatonic. She was being walked into the treatment room by a caregiver and was stiff as a board. She had no life in her. It was difficult to get the treatment started, but we did. That repeated each day. Two weeks later, I saw her coming in again—this time, walking on her own. I asked her name because I didn’t recognize her. She was glamorously put together and had no caregiver. I was confused. How could this be? I saw this with ECT (Electroconvulsive Therapy), but this wasn’t as strong or severe a treatment. I then saw a man who had been in bed for 5 years come alive again. His wife even called me to ask for guidance, as she has never known this version of him in 20 years of marriage. I then saw a nurse who was hospitalized 22 times start doing her laundry, and baking a cake, and taking care of herself. She has not been hospitalized for the last 12 years. I then saw an elderly man who looked like my grandfather crying with relief, “I just wish this was around for me 40 years ago…”. I then saw a mother with postpartum depression able to care for her child again, and a woman with pregnancy psychosis almost abort her child for reasons she couldn’t fathom once she was better. I saw a doctor, and a teacher, and scientist, and an actor. I saw, I saw, I saw. Renewed, recharged. 

 

Day after day, week after week, year after year, I see. Twelve years later, I continue to see new things, new recoveries, new discoveries. It has left me renewed and recharged, too. When someone comes to me for help, I no longer view them through just the lens of my experiences—but through the lens of possibility. Instead of, “this treatment is not meant for that”, I can say, “perhaps, let’s see”. When someone is without hope and they think there is nothing left for them, I can lend them mine. I can honestly say we have not found a magic wand yet, but I am excited to know that I HAVE NOT seen it all.  

 

Stephanie Debnath, PMHNP

 

Get more information from SoCal TMS:

https://socaltms.com/

 

Learn about TMS in my book:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/traveling-the-healing-journey-gina-capobianco/1142298691?ean=9798218067380

 

https://www.amazon.com/Traveling-Healing-Journey-Finding-Illness/dp/B0BFW7MVG5/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1U96Z0EWXCQ8&keywords=gina+capobianco&qid=1698627517&sprefix=gina+capobia,aps,143&sr=8-1

A Moment of Gratitude

           Today I want to share more gratitude.  I hope you will allow me this time.  It is important to me as I battle cancer.  I can’t do it alone.  This is the one place where I can say what I have to say.  I don’t know who will read it, but I hope my gratitude comes across.

            As many of you know I am a special education teacher. I knew when I left my previous school in June that I was I leaving great teachers (also counselors, paraprofessionals, and campus aides) behind.  Little did I know just how amazing they are.  These teachers and staff have joined my battle with cancer.  Many have reached out to me through phone calls, texts, cards, and messages through my friend, Maria.  I treasure every message.  Facing mortality really changes perspective and reminds me of what is important in life.  These messages provide me with connection.  They give me hope. The teachers and staff at my former school have generously donated money to assist me financially while cancer prevents me from working.  I don’t know how to thank them enough.  I cried when I found out. They are more than colleagues. They are my teacher family. 

            In May I made a life changing decision.  I chose to leave the school I have called home for nine and a half years.  That meant leaving my teacher friends.  I had reasons for leaving that had nothing to do with the teachers.  In a perfect world I would still be working with these wonderful people.  Some of them know the reason I left. Even more understand without  knowing the details. 

            Before I could start work at a new school in an out of classroom position as a special education coordinator, I received the diagnosis of stage 4 metastatic breast cancer.  I had been looking forward to this position.  I haven’t been able to work since.  But my teacher friends, including teachers, counselors, paraprofessionals, and campus aides rose up and have had my back. 

            I cannot express enough how much their support means to me.  I am so grateful to have them in my corner.  They are the best of the best.  I wish they heard that more often.  Teaching is a tough profession. These teachers work their butts off.  They are the most dedicated group I have had the privilege to work with in my 26-year career.  They don’t get the credit they deserve for all their hard work.  I hope knowing that I appreciate them goes a little way in helping them know how truly great they are.  

The students at my former school are lucky to have such a dedicated staff.  As I mentioned in my last post, the students at this school are great, too. I don’t know if leaving was the right choice.  Things have changed too much now for me to ever know.  I do know that I had to make the move ironically for my health, mainly my depression.  The cancer changed things.  I don’t know if I will ever be able to step back into a classroom like these amazing people.  Cancer may take that away from me.  I may decide I can’t go back.  I struggle with this, but I know I was blessed to work with my colleagues for the last nine and a half years.  If any of you are reading this, know that I am grateful for your help and support.  Know that I believe in you.  I know you give your best for students.  You show up every day and do what is best for kids.  The world needs more people like you.  Thank you for joining me on this journey.  You give me strength to keep fighting.  Keep messaging me. Your words go a long way in helping me fight cancer.

            

Young People Make a Difference

           For the last few years my mental health has led me to be burnt out as a teacher.  I have taught special education for 26 years.  It is hard to believe that I have been in the teaching profession for that long.  I have felt the drain of so many years for a while.  A lot of it was due to my depression taking over.  Some of it stemmed from the changes in education.  The pressures of teaching, the intense and unrealistic focus on test scores, and the lack of support for teachers have made teaching unpleasant and a difficult profession.

            One thing has kept me going. The students.  Kids keep showing up.  They bring their anticipation into the classroom.  In 26 years, many students have entered my classroom.  Too many to count. I have enjoyed working with my students.  I have always tried to encourage them and I have focused on relationships as much as curriculum.  Still, at the end of this past school year I wasn’t sure I could continue.  I was the definition of burn out. I requested and was granted a transfer from the high school I had taught at for almost 10 years.  I accepted a position as special education coordinator thinking that I just needed a change.  Unfortunately, before I could start that position, I was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer.  My world and my career were flipped upside down. 

            As a special education teacher, I have always had smaller class sizes, which allowed me to get to know students more closely than most teachers.  I taught the students for multiple classes during their high school years.  This has turned out to be a blessing.  My friend, Maria, teaches many of my former students.  They are 11^th and 12^th graders now.  They noticed I was gone and asked about me.  Maria told them I had taken a new position at a different school. Since we have always been honest with our students, when appropriate, she also told them I was sick.  These amazing young people wanted to reach out.  They each wrote letters to me on a Google Slide document.  I cried as read their get well wishes.  I could hear some of the messages about positivity and determination I had tried to teach them in their messages. I responded with a slideshow message to them.  I was honest about my diagnosis.  They are mature enough to know the truth.  I didn’t feel I needed to hide my cancer.  These kids would have seen through any lies if I had tried to hide it.  Their response has given me courage to fight cancer.  I told them I was going to make it to their graduations.  I told them I need them to work hard in school because I need to look forward to attending their graduations.  They have responded by working hard in school.  

            Maria has shared with me that the kids ask about me all the time.  They recently sent me a card.  Their words brought tears to my eyes.  These amazing kids think about me even when they don’t see me.  Their concern for me has made me realize that teaching for 26 years has been worthwhile and a blessing.  The burnout had me second-guessing my career choice, but these kids made me realize that I have been where I belonged all along.  

            On Friday they all wore pink for me.  Again, I cried when I saw the picture of them all wearing pink for me.  These young people are special.  I wish I could post the picture here, but most of them are still minors and I don’t have permission to post their picture.  Believe me when I say they are special group.  I am going to frame the picture.  I’ve received a few pictures from them.  It makes my day each time.  When I am feeling down or questioning if I can keep fighting, I look at their pictures.  They give me the strength to keep going.  I love seeing them.  I hope they know that I believe in each of them and can’t wait to watch them graduate. They have given me hope.  That is a special gift.  

            I don’t know if I will ever return to a classroom as a teacher.  I don’t know what cancer has in store for me.  If these young people were my last group of students, I know I will forever cherish them.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to work again, but if not, I know I have been blessed with amazing students. Next June, I plan to be there to watch the 12^th graders graduate.  In June of 2025, I plan to be there to watch the 11^th graders graduate. These students are going to do great things in the world.  I treasure each of them.

            Thank you, Maria, for keeping me close to them.  Teacher friends are the best.  More on teacher friends in my next post. 

            

Cancer’s Foe

            I am not feeling well today.  It has been a difficult few days.  So, I will let this poem I wrote last week during chemo treatment speak for me.  It is about chemo and how it is at war for me.  Chemo is my best chance at living.  I trust that it is doing its intended job even as it makes me feel like crap.  

            Hopefully, I’ll feel better by Thursday and will write a longer post.

 

 

Cancer’s Foe

 

A needle pierces my skin,

Making way for the tubes that will

 Carry a healing poison into my body.

Killer cancer cells have made a home inside my body.

The healing poison dripping into me is cancer’s foe.

Attempting to kill the cancer before it can kill me.

 

Cancer’s foe weakens me,

Makes me sick.

Despite the toll it takes on me,

I am ready to fight.

Cancer’s foe leads the attack.

I do my part.

Allow my doctor to guide me.

She orders cancer’s foe to go on the offensive.

 

The battle is in full motion.

At times I am weakened.

I need help to keep up the fight.

I have battle scars,

The side effects of cancer’s foe.

 

Cancer thought I was an easy target,

Thought it could take away my life, 

But it did not count on cancer’s foe.

Cancer underestimated my will to live.  

It didn’t know my doctor had a weapon.  

 

Cancer’s foe leads my fight.

I may not win all the battles,

But I will win the war.

 

 

 

 

 

I Could Only Laugh

            Recently, I wrote about my frustration with the health care system.  I had an experience last week that exemplifies the problems in the health care system.  It was so ridiculous that I couldn’t help but laugh.  

            You may remember that I had to fight to get care from the oncologist who is currently providing my care.  The first doctor, Dr. M, just wasn’t the right doctor for me.  I felt like the level of care was lacking.  The last time I had any contact with that doctor, or anyone in his practice was on August 14^th.  Remember that date.  I switched to Dr. St who has been providing my care and chemo since then.  Well, the other day I was laying down talking on the phone to my friend, Pam, after my chemo treatment.  Another call blinked on my phone screen.  The caller ID said it was from the first oncologist’s office.  After a moment’s hesitation, I answered it.  The man on the line said he was calling because Dr. M’s office was having difficulty getting my insurance company to authorize a blood draw.  I had to pause before I could respond.  What was he talking about?  It was October 4^th.  Remember I hadn’t had contact with this doctor or his office since August 14^th.  I had canceled a chemo appointment and an appointment with the doctor.  So, I told the man that I was no longer being treated by Dr. M because I had decided to go with a different doctor.  I pointed out that I had told someone in his office that I had changed doctors a few weeks prior.  The guy seemed clueless.  He asked me which doctor I had switched to.  My first thought was that he didn’t need to know.  Then I decided that I would tell him so Dr. M would know there were better doctors out there.  

            This whole situation left me laughing.  Where the hell did they think I had been for the last seven weeks?  I have stage 4 cancer.  Did they think I would just miss appointments?  Did they even notice that I hadn’t been there?  This proves that I made the right decision when I switched to Dr. St.  If a doctor lets a patient with stage 4 go missing for seven weeks, is he really interested in healing the patient?  Was anyone in his office really paying attention? 

            I understand that doctors have a lot of patients, and they depend on their staff who don’t always tell them everything.  This is ridiculous, though.  I made the right decision to go with Dr. St. 

            Health care baffles me.  There are good doctors out there.  Some are prevented from providing care the way they want because of the system and insurance companies.  Another example happened on Tuesday.  My psychiatrist made a change to how I take a medication, which required two different doses of the medication.  When I went to the pharmacy, they would only give me one.  I was told that I had to wait until the next day for the other one because my insurance said that is when it was due to be processed.  Never mind that my psychiatrist had made the decision to make the changes based on my health needs.  Evidently, the insurance company knows better than a psychiatrist!  I am frustrated.  Adding to the frustration was the fact that it was 4:00 in the afternoon.  Does it really make a difference if I pick the prescription up then as opposed to 9:00 the next morning.  Just an inconvenience for me.  

            Check back on Monday for a new post.  I am not sure what I will write about.  Perhaps another poem.  I have two poems that I have written during chemo treatment.  There is also a guest post on TMS treatment coming soon.   I wrote a lot in my journal yesterday.  Maybe there is a post in what I wrote.  Some of it is about the mental side of facing cancer.  Don’t miss Monday’s post. 

 

 

Friends and Journal-Making

            A few weeks ago, my cousin, Sara, asked if I wanted to see some of my friends.  I haven’t been able to do much, partly because I don’t have the energy and partly to protect my immune system.  She offered her backyard as a safe space for me to gather with friends.  We decided to make it more than just a get-together.  I asked my friends to join me to decorate journals that we could donate.  Aunt Holly and I made 60 journals.  Making the journals was fun.  It was also relaxing.  We stitched the journals with pink ribbon.  I had about 40 more blank journals that I had purchased for a talk I was unable to do.  This gave us a good supply of journals to decorate.   

This past Saturday Sara hosted a brunch for me.  My friends came. It was great to see them.  Maria brought a card from some of my former students.  Their sweet words brought tears to my eyes.  My students are the part of teaching that I miss.  I’ve written to the students and let them know that my goal is to beat this cancer and be at their high school graduation.  

After a delicious meal of bagels, fruit, and salad, we got busy making journals.  As we decorated, we laughed and relaxed.  It was great to see my friends.  It was an enjoyable afternoon.  We had a lot of supplies: stickers, stencils, markers, and colored pencils.  Thank you, Nancy for adding to the supply stash. Everyone got busy.  We chatted as we worked.  There was laughter and smiles.  For a while I was just one of the girls.  For a short time I forgot that I was the woman with stage 4 cancer.  

Our goal – to decorate journals for people with cancer or mental illness.  Since I suffer from both illnesses, they are important to me, and I want to help others who are impacted by these illnesses.  We used stencils, stickers, and markers to write messages of hope on the journals.  We pasted my poem “A Whisper Above the Water” on the inside cover of the journals.  We decorated about one hundred journals.  These journals will be donated to four places, the cancer treatment center where I am receiving care and chemo, the cancer support community where I am receiving support, the TMS center where I have received TMS treatment, and an out-patient mental health facility where I have shared my story several times with patients and staff.  

Why journals?  Writing has always been healing for me.  It has been my coping strategy throughout my battle with depression and now writing is carrying me as I battle cancer.  I want to share writing with others.  Maybe writing in journals can help others in their battles with mental illness and/or cancer.  I stumbled upon writing as a teenager, and I am still writing in middle age.  Explaining what writing does for me is difficult.  It is a release.  The thoughts that depression and cancer cause to build up in my head find their way onto the pages of my journal.  Once the thoughts are on the paper, I have an easier time processing them.  

A few years ago, I read an incredible book, The Story You Need to Tell, by Sandra Marinella.  It helped me understand how writing heals.  I return to the pages of this book a lot as a reminder that writing heals.  Donating journals is my way of helping others.  I am hoping that by donating journals I can encourage others to try writing and maybe find some healing.  

Saturday was a wonderful day.  It took a lot out of me physically.  I am drained as I write this the next day.  I’ll deal with being drained.  Seeing my friends and doing something to help others was worth it. 

I am grateful that my friends and family helped me with this project.  I plan to keep making and donating journals.  It is a small thing, but it is something I can do.  

Thank you: Holly, Sara, Carol, Maria, Jessica, Bernie, Lisa, and Sylvia.  

Check back Thursday for a post about the idiocy of the health care system.  

 

 

National Physician’s Assistants Day

           I’d like to do something a little different today.  October 6th is a day set aside to recognize an important group of health care professionals, physician’s assistants (PA).  Since I am a teacher, I need to start with a little history lesson.  

The physician’s assistant profession was created by Dr. Eugene Stead at Duke University in 1965.  Two years later on October 6, 1967, the first class of physician’s assistants graduated and joined the health care profession.  You may be wondering what exactly a physician’s assistant is. A physician’s assistant is a health care professional who is licensed to practice medicine as a part of a team with physicians.  They conduct physical exams, diagnose and treat illnesses, order and interpret tests, prescribe medication, counsel on preventive health, and may assist in surgery.  Physician assistants are valuable members of the health care profession.

I chose to write about physician’s assistants today because I have received great care from physician assistants over the years.  One of the first I met was Mona.  She played a significant role in my life because she caught that a former psychiatrist was overmedicating me and that I was addicted to one of my anxiety medications.  I am grateful to her for being willing to address a problem and help me get the right care.  

After Mona I had a bad experience with a health care professional, but that is a story for another post.  This experience left me unwilling to trust health care professionals and convinced that my mental illness was a negative issue for health care professionals.  Luckily, I soon met another physician’s assistant, Greta.  She was kind and understanding.  She made it possible for me to let go of my insecurity and fear so that I could trust a health care professional again.  I only saw Greta for a couple years, but she impacted me.  She took an interest in my health care and made me feel safe.  She was always proactive.  Greta understood when I was depressed or anxious.  She gave me the time I needed and was always empathetic.  I am grateful to Greta for the impact she had on me. 

Greta moved on, but before she left, she recommended another PA to take over my care.  I was nervous.  I wasn’t sure I could see someone other than Greta.  My first experience with Cristina was a positive one despite my fears.  I saw her because my insurance insisted on a referral from my primary care to get the treatment I needed for my depression.  I sat in the exam room and meekly expressed to Cristina that I need her to refer me for transcranial magnetic stimulation, also known as TMS. (A post on TMS is forthcoming.) I was aware that Cristina didn’t know about my history with depression.  I was worried she would ask too many questions and that she wouldn’t make the referral.  Greta was right.  Cristina was so understanding.  She made the referral without questioning me.  She was empathetic and understanding.  I knew in that moment that I was safe with her.  I have been seeing Cristina for several years now.  I trust her.  She takes time with me.  She talks with me.  One thing Cristina does that I think is sign of a high-quality health care professional is she listens to me, but not only what I am saying, but also what I am not saying.  Being able to do that requires a gift.  Sometimes I think doctors move so fast and have so much to do that they forget to connect with patients on personal level.  My experience has been that physician’s assistants, like Cristina, meet patients on a personal level and provide care from there.

The past couple of months I have seen Cristina several times.  Having her by my side has been extremely important.  She has helped me through my cancer diagnosis.  I saw her after I was dismissed by the ER.  She looked at the ultrasound results and didn’t hesitate to order tests.  A doctor had overlooked my test results in the hospital, but a physician’s assistant knew more was needed.  I had tests done and spent a few days in the hospital.  Cristina could have let the hospital take over.  There was a doctor there, although I don’t even remember his name.  When he would speak to me, he would spend about three minutes with me and speak over my head.  Cristina took over. On July 21^st she gave me the news that I had cancer.  It was so much better to receive this news from her instead of a nameless, three-minute doctor in the hospital.  She allowed me to process what she was saying in my own way.  She was empathetic and caring.  In this day where masks prevent us from seeing each other’s facial expressions, I could see how much she cared in her eyes.  Seeing that look made this devasting news easier to cope with for me.  She continues to be by my side in this battle.  She helped me get the right oncologist, someone who is more like Cristina than like Dr. Three-Minute.  I know that Cristina is there if I have questions or if an issue arises.  That is an enormous comfort, one that I am grateful for. 

I am sure there are good doctors out there.  There are doctors who provide the same kind of care I have received from Cristina.  I am grateful to have had physician’s assistants as my primary health care providers over the years.  I believe their care is on a different level.  Maybe it is their training.  Maybe it is the type of person who goes into this profession. It is also possible that I have just been lucky.  Whatever it is, I am grateful there are physician’s assistants in the health care profession.  That is why I share this post today.  I want to acknowledge physician’s assistants, especially the ones who like Cristina provide care with their heart as well as their wealth of medical knowledge.  

If you see a physician’s assistant for your health care, please take a moment to acknowledge them and say thank you.  October 6^th is National Physician’s Day.  It is followed by Physician’s Assistants week, October 6-12^th.  

Side Effects and Needing Help

            My plan was to just post a poem today, but there is something on my mind.  So, I think I’ll save the poem for next week.  The last few days have been difficult.  I knew the side effects of the chemotherapy were going to be an issue. The first few treatments were not too bad.  Significant fatigue and constipation were the main side effects.  As I’ve had more treatments, the side effects have increased.  My understanding is that is expected.  The fatigue is rough.  It’s more than just being tired.  I feel completely drained.  I am more tired than I have ever been.  I want to sleep, but at times I am too tired, and my mind is too busy to allow me to sleep. The constipation is ongoing and an annoying problem.  The last two treatments have resulted in nausea.  It’s not too bad, I guess.  It could be worse.  I’m coping with it.  The anti-nausea meds help.  My appetite is decreasing.  I think I’ve lost a couple more pounds this week.  Yesterday, I had some bleeding from my nose.  It was minor, but it rattled me.  I also have pain over my liver from the tumors.  All these side effects add up.

            I’m trying to maintain a positive attitude about it.  Side effects mean the chemo is doing something.  Hopefully, that something is killing cancer.  Side effects are part of the fight.  It is hard to deal with the side effects, but I believe I can.  One thing that makes it more difficult to deal with the side effects is the fact that I am finding I can’t do it alone.  I thought I could handle taking care of myself for a few days on my own.  It turns out I need more help than I realized.  I have always taken care of myself.  It is not easy to admit that I need help.  I’m used to doing things for myself, but now there is so much I need support with.  This triggers my depression, which in turn gets my mind busy.  I’m lucky that I have help.  I have family and friends who are willing to support me in this battle.  Even though it is difficult, I need to get used to accepting that support.  The support is there for me, and I need to accept it so that I can win this battle.

I have a coaching background.  Sport can be a metaphor for a lot of things in life.  The other day I shared a quote from Coach Jimmy Valvano’s speech.  Today I think I will expand on how sport relates to my battle with cancer. The two greatest mentors in my life are Pam and Carol, my college basketball coaches.  I learned a lot from them.  One of the things I learned was a work ethic.  I learned that in order for the body to perform at its peak level a player has to put in the effort.  I think the same can apply to the fight against cancer.  In sport you have to practice.  Pam and Carol taught me how to plan practices to gain peak performance from athletes.  In that same way I need to plan my fight against cancer and the side effects of my treatment.  Planning that practice means knowing what medications to take to ease the side effects.  It means knowing what my body needs to perform at its best in this fight.  I need rest. I need to eat even when the thought of food makes me feel sick.  It means finding ways to get my body the movement opportunities it needs, even if that is just a 10-minute walk. 

Pam and Carol also taught me the importance of teamwork.  No individual achieves their best alone.  We need a team. Thus, teamwork leads to winning in sport and in the battle against cancer.  It is this area that I need to work on.  I need to accept that I need a team alongside of me to fight the cancer.  It is just like a basketball player needs teammates.  I can’t do it all on my own.  Some of my greatest memories from my coaching career are the moments when teammates united for a common goal.  One of the best teams I ever had only won one game, but they were a true team and supported each other.

Last night as I was lying in bed feeling like crap, I knew I couldn’t go it alone anymore.  I needed to return to my aunt’s house, where she could help me deal with the side effects.  I needed my teammate.  I need to text with family and friends.  They are my team and help me cope with all I am going through.  I need my psych team and my primary care to help me through this.  I have a rather large team.  I just need to remind myself that I it is okay to rely on my team. I can’t do this alone.

Pam and Carol taught me so much more than sport.  Three decades after I was in the gym with them, I am applying what they taught me to the biggest fight of my life.  Carol is gone now.  Cancer took her away to soon.  Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her.  Since my diagnosis, I “hear” her whisper to me.  She is telling me to fight like hell.  Just like she encouraged me when I was young, she is with me now.  Pam is still there, too.  I smile every time my phone rings and it is a call or text from Pam.  She encourages me and gives me courage to fight.  Sometimes we just talk basketball.  It’s WNBA playoff time so we have lots to discuss.  Other times she encourages me the way she has for the past 30 plus years.  I am blessed to have these two women as mentors.  They are a part of my team.  Cancer picked the wrong team to mess with.  Side effects, watch out.  Cancer, watch out.  My team and I are fighting together.