Hot Off The Press….
This just in: Kelly “sells” a story. Details on the 6 o’clock news. Before we proceed any further, there was no exchange of money. No Pay To The Order Of – Kelly U’Ren Moody, Freelance Writer.
And, Now – The Backstory…
Well, who are we kidding? Isn’t there usually a “story” behind most stories? I began following an organization on Twitter that provides gifts to help those affected by cancer. Lo and behold, they followed me back. I also received a message from a doctor that works for the company. She asked me about my writing. Ah, she read my profile. I’m still not quite accustomed to – Occupation: WRITER. But, I digress. She explained to me that they occasionally publish stories from individuals that have a cancer story to tell. Do I have a cancer story to tell? Do I? I have several. A few final words from the good doctor – it had to be an original and in lieu of payment, I should provide the link to all of my social media platforms and my website. Get my name out to the masses instead of greenback? Okay. Yes, of course, exposure is a good thing. I repeated this mantra, if you will, over and over – “It’s not about the money. It’s not about the money.” Until….I actually read the story. These people did what??
The Moral of This Story Is….
Don’t change my story. Do not, under any circumstances, change MY story. Why? Oh, yes, because it’s MY Story. Yes, immunotherapy did save my life to this point, but In Remission? Did I say that? No Evidence of Disease is not the same as “Remission” or “Cancer Free”. It simply means that the cancer is not visible on the CT scan, but immunotherapy is a tricky devil and how long will it continue to work, hmmm….My oncologist told me in no uncertain terms that he’d never lie to me and that these are not terms that he was taught in medical school. I know plenty of folks, in my head and neck FB group, that have said they’ve been told these words by their respective doctors. I simply congratulate them and move on. That being said, I am Grateful for my doctor’s honesty. I don’t dwell on the what-ifs. My life is a One Day At A Time kind of life.
One Final Note – Or, Maybe Two….
1. I reached out to this organization to no avail. No retraction of the story.
2. For those who developed this website, that provides products that help comfort those who just want to rest after a long day of treatment or a surgery – Thank You!! I mean no disrespect.
*This is just a simple reminder that words are not just words….
With Love, K xo
*And now the link to my story
Facing Your Demons (One at a Time)….
I have recently joined a couple of Facebook groups that are for anyone dealing with a head and neck cancer. Yourself, friends, family – anyone.
A young lady from a blogging page that I’m involved with recommended that I join one or two of these groups. Why didn’t I think of that?
Anyway, it’s been eye opening, to say the least, that we all have different stories to tell, but some of our experiences are quite the same. Yesterday I read a particularly heartbreaking story from a gentleman whose wife left him. She told him that she couldn’t handle the type of head and neck cancer he was dealing with.
The woman believed that she, too, would get it. The soon to be ex-spouse, ended with, “If I get it, I’ll never make it through. The treatments would be too hard for me.”
Now, I realize we all need to tell our own stories, but here’s a suggestion. Take it for what it’s worth: One Day At A Time.
This will be a recurring theme in my posts. It’s how I live my life. Let’s face it, as I’m only human. I have been known to take life 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10 days at a time, but I reign myself in.
They’re Just Words….
I’m seeing some recurring themes and it’s bringing back vivid memories and phrases that some of you who read this will totally understand. Mandibular resection, cured, remission.
I have thoughts on all of these words, as I know firsthand. Mandibular resection (mine was a partial jaw replacement) is as frightening as it sounds, but I have concluded that it was essential for me to give myself a fighting chance. There is no right or wrong answer in the “should I, should I not” department. The words cured and remission alarm me to a degree I’ll put it into perspective for you.
My oncologist flat-out told me that he will never say this to me. His explanation was this, “I was not trained to do so.” Short answer is that there may be minute cancer cells somewhere that the scan simply does not pick up. He expressed that it would be a disservice to utter these words to me. I read posts from some of you folks that you are in remission and I couldn’t be happier for you.
A gentle reminder that we all have our own stories to tell. I could actually ring the bell, too. You all know the bell I’m talking about. If you don’t, let me know. I can tell you, right now, that my angst, doubt, unease with that whole scene, stops me.
The “What-Ifs”. What if I ring it and the cancer spreads, again?
That is my burden and I’m sharing it with you. As the old saying goes, We Are Only As Sick As Our Secrets. My secret was that I was petrified to ring the bell.
I don’t use the word “HATE” often, but when I was going through treatment, I would pass that damn bell on my way to the restroom. I would scream in my head, “I hate you bell. I’ll never get to ring you.”
Heather was in charge of scheduling the treatment appointments for patients and she enlightened me on one particular day by saying, “Kelly, you can ring the bell.”
She encouraged me to ring it when I finished chemo. “No Heather, not ready.” She pointed out that it would always be there if I changed my mind I wanted to blurt out, “Not if I smash it with a hammer.” I kept that one to myself.
I’ve talked with counselors and my church pastor about this and it may be time to put a plan into action. I’ll know when I’m ready. If you, like myself, are not ready – be easy on yourself. You’ve been through a boat load of dung.
On that note, until next week – K xo
Facing Your Demons (One at a Time)….
I have recently joined a couple of Facebook groups that are for anyone dealing with a head and neck cancer. Yourself, friends, family – anyone.
A young lady from a blogging page that I’m involved with recommended that I join one or two of these groups. Why didn’t I think of that?
Anyway, it’s been eye opening, to say the least, that we all have different stories to tell, but some of our experiences are quite the same. Yesterday I read a particularly heartbreaking story from a gentleman whose wife left him. She told him that she couldn’t handle the type of head and neck cancer he was dealing with.
The woman believed that she, too, would get it. The soon to be ex-spouse, ended with, “If I get it, I’ll never make it through. The treatments would be too hard for me.”
Now, I realize we all need to tell our own stories, but here’s a suggestion. Take it for what it’s worth: One Day At A Time.
This will be a recurring theme in my posts. It’s how I live my life. Let’s face it, as I’m only human. I have been known to take life 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10 days at a time, but I reign myself in.
They’re Just Words….
I’m seeing some recurring themes and it’s bringing back vivid memories and phrases that some of you who read this will totally understand. Mandibular resection, cured, remission.
I have thoughts on all of these words, as I know firsthand. Mandibular resection (mine was a partial jaw replacement) is as frightening as it sounds, but I have concluded that it was essential for me to give myself a fighting chance. There is no right or wrong answer in the “should I, should I not” department. The words cured and remission alarm me to a degree I’ll put it into perspective for you.
My oncologist flat-out told me that he will never say this to me. His explanation was this, “I was not trained to do so.” Short answer is that there may be minute cancer cells somewhere that the scan simply does not pick up. He expressed that it would be a disservice to utter these words to me. I read posts from some of you folks that you are in remission and I couldn’t be happier for you.
A gentle reminder that we all have our own stories to tell. I could actually ring the bell, too. You all know the bell I’m talking about. If you don’t, let me know. I can tell you, right now, that my angst, doubt, unease with that whole scene, stops me.
The “What-Ifs”. What if I ring it and the cancer spreads, again?
That is my burden and I’m sharing it with you. As the old saying goes, We Are Only As Sick As Our Secrets. My secret was that I was petrified to ring the bell.
I don’t use the word “HATE” often, but when I was going through treatment, I would pass that damn bell on my way to the restroom. I would scream in my head, “I hate you bell. I’ll never get to ring you.”
Heather was in charge of scheduling the treatment appointments for patients and she enlightened me on one particular day by saying, “Kelly, you can ring the bell.”
She encouraged me to ring it when I finished chemo. “No Heather, not ready.” She pointed out that it would always be there if I changed my mind I wanted to blurt out, “Not if I smash it with a hammer.” I kept that one to myself.
I’ve talked with counselors and my church pastor about this and it may be time to put a plan into action. I’ll know when I’m ready. If you, like myself, are not ready – be easy on yourself. You’ve been through a boat load of dung.
On that note, until next week – K xo
Facing Your Demons (One at a Time)….
I have recently joined a couple of Facebook groups that are for anyone dealing with a head and neck cancer. Yourself, friends, family – anyone.
A young lady from a blogging page that I’m involved with recommended that I join one or two of these groups. Why didn’t I think of that?
Anyway, it’s been eye opening, to say the least, that we all have different stories to tell, but some of our experiences are quite the same. Yesterday I read a particularly heartbreaking story from a gentleman whose wife left him. She told him that she couldn’t handle the type of head and neck cancer he was dealing with.
The woman believed that she, too, would get it. The soon to be ex-spouse, ended with, “If I get it, I’ll never make it through. The treatments would be too hard for me.”
Now, I realize we all need to tell our own stories, but here’s a suggestion. Take it for what it’s worth: One Day At A Time.
This will be a recurring theme in my posts. It’s how I live my life. Let’s face it, as I’m only human. I have been known to take life 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10 days at a time, but I reign myself in.
They’re Just Words….
I’m seeing some recurring themes and it’s bringing back vivid memories and phrases that some of you who read this will totally understand. Mandibular resection, cured, remission.
I have thoughts on all of these words, as I know firsthand. Mandibular resection (mine was a partial jaw replacement) is as frightening as it sounds, but I have concluded that it was essential for me to give myself a fighting chance. There is no right or wrong answer in the “should I, should I not” department. The words cured and remission alarm me to a degree I’ll put it into perspective for you.
My oncologist flat-out told me that he will never say this to me. His explanation was this, “I was not trained to do so.” Short answer is that there may be minute cancer cells somewhere that the scan simply does not pick up. He expressed that it would be a disservice to utter these words to me. I read posts from some of you folks that you are in remission and I couldn’t be happier for you.
A gentle reminder that we all have our own stories to tell. I could actually ring the bell, too. You all know the bell I’m talking about. If you don’t, let me know. I can tell you, right now, that my angst, doubt, unease with that whole scene, stops me.
The “What-Ifs”. What if I ring it and the cancer spreads, again?
That is my burden and I’m sharing it with you. As the old saying goes, We Are Only As Sick As Our Secrets. My secret was that I was petrified to ring the bell.
I don’t use the word “HATE” often, but when I was going through treatment, I would pass that damn bell on my way to the restroom. I would scream in my head, “I hate you bell. I’ll never get to ring you.”
Heather was in charge of scheduling the treatment appointments for patients and she enlightened me on one particular day by saying, “Kelly, you can ring the bell.”
She encouraged me to ring it when I finished chemo. “No Heather, not ready.” She pointed out that it would always be there if I changed my mind I wanted to blurt out, “Not if I smash it with a hammer.” I kept that one to myself.
I’ve talked with counselors and my church pastor about this and it may be time to put a plan into action. I’ll know when I’m ready. If you, like myself, are not ready – be easy on yourself. You’ve been through a boat load of dung.
On that note, until next week – K xo
Facing Your Demons (One at a Time)….
I have recently joined a couple of Facebook groups that are for anyone dealing with a head and neck cancer. Yourself, friends, family – anyone.
A young lady from a blogging page that I’m involved with recommended that I join one or two of these groups. Why didn’t I think of that?
Anyway, it’s been eye opening, to say the least, that we all have different stories to tell, but some of our experiences are quite the same. Yesterday I read a particularly heartbreaking story from a gentleman whose wife left him. She told him that she couldn’t handle the type of head and neck cancer he was dealing with.
The woman believed that she, too, would get it. The soon to be ex-spouse, ended with, “If I get it, I’ll never make it through. The treatments would be too hard for me.”
Now, I realize we all need to tell our own stories, but here’s a suggestion. Take it for what it’s worth: One Day At A Time.
This will be a recurring theme in my posts. It’s how I live my life. Let’s face it, as I’m only human. I have been known to take life 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10 days at a time, but I reign myself in.
They’re Just Words….
I’m seeing some recurring themes and it’s bringing back vivid memories and phrases that some of you who read this will totally understand. Mandibular resection, cured, remission.
I have thoughts on all of these words, as I know firsthand. Mandibular resection (mine was a partial jaw replacement) is as frightening as it sounds, but I have concluded that it was essential for me to give myself a fighting chance. There is no right or wrong answer in the “should I, should I not” department. The words cured and remission alarm me to a degree I’ll put it into perspective for you.
My oncologist flat-out told me that he will never say this to me. His explanation was this, “I was not trained to do so.” Short answer is that there may be minute cancer cells somewhere that the scan simply does not pick up. He expressed that it would be a disservice to utter these words to me. I read posts from some of you folks that you are in remission and I couldn’t be happier for you.
A gentle reminder that we all have our own stories to tell. I could actually ring the bell, too. You all know the bell I’m talking about. If you don’t, let me know. I can tell you, right now, that my angst, doubt, unease with that whole scene, stops me.
The “What-Ifs”. What if I ring it and the cancer spreads, again?
That is my burden and I’m sharing it with you. As the old saying goes, We Are Only As Sick As Our Secrets. My secret was that I was petrified to ring the bell.
I don’t use the word “HATE” often, but when I was going through treatment, I would pass that damn bell on my way to the restroom. I would scream in my head, “I hate you bell. I’ll never get to ring you.”
Heather was in charge of scheduling the treatment appointments for patients and she enlightened me on one particular day by saying, “Kelly, you can ring the bell.”
She encouraged me to ring it when I finished chemo. “No Heather, not ready.” She pointed out that it would always be there if I changed my mind I wanted to blurt out, “Not if I smash it with a hammer.” I kept that one to myself.
I’ve talked with counselors and my church pastor about this and it may be time to put a plan into action. I’ll know when I’m ready. If you, like myself, are not ready – be easy on yourself. You’ve been through a boat load of dung.
On that note, until next week – K xo
Facing Your Demons (One at a Time)….
I have recently joined a couple of Facebook groups that are for anyone dealing with a head and neck cancer. Yourself, friends, family – anyone.
A young lady from a blogging page that I’m involved with recommended that I join one or two of these groups. Why didn’t I think of that?
Anyway, it’s been eye opening, to say the least, that we all have different stories to tell, but some of our experiences are quite the same. Yesterday I read a particularly heartbreaking story from a gentleman whose wife left him. She told him that she couldn’t handle the type of head and neck cancer he was dealing with.
The woman believed that she, too, would get it. The soon to be ex-spouse, ended with, “If I get it, I’ll never make it through. The treatments would be too hard for me.”
Now, I realize we all need to tell our own stories, but here’s a suggestion. Take it for what it’s worth: One Day At A Time.
This will be a recurring theme in my posts. It’s how I live my life. Let’s face it, as I’m only human. I have been known to take life 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10 days at a time, but I reign myself in.
They’re Just Words….
I’m seeing some recurring themes and it’s bringing back vivid memories and phrases that some of you who read this will totally understand. Mandibular resection, cured, remission.
I have thoughts on all of these words, as I know firsthand. Mandibular resection (mine was a partial jaw replacement) is as frightening as it sounds, but I have concluded that it was essential for me to give myself a fighting chance. There is no right or wrong answer in the “should I, should I not” department. The words cured and remission alarm me to a degree I’ll put it into perspective for you.
My oncologist flat-out told me that he will never say this to me. His explanation was this, “I was not trained to do so.” Short answer is that there may be minute cancer cells somewhere that the scan simply does not pick up. He expressed that it would be a disservice to utter these words to me. I read posts from some of you folks that you are in remission and I couldn’t be happier for you.
A gentle reminder that we all have our own stories to tell. I could actually ring the bell, too. You all know the bell I’m talking about. If you don’t, let me know. I can tell you, right now, that my angst, doubt, unease with that whole scene, stops me.
The “What-Ifs”. What if I ring it and the cancer spreads, again?
That is my burden and I’m sharing it with you. As the old saying goes, We Are Only As Sick As Our Secrets. My secret was that I was petrified to ring the bell.
I don’t use the word “HATE” often, but when I was going through treatment, I would pass that damn bell on my way to the restroom. I would scream in my head, “I hate you bell. I’ll never get to ring you.”
Heather was in charge of scheduling the treatment appointments for patients and she enlightened me on one particular day by saying, “Kelly, you can ring the bell.”
She encouraged me to ring it when I finished chemo. “No Heather, not ready.” She pointed out that it would always be there if I changed my mind I wanted to blurt out, “Not if I smash it with a hammer.” I kept that one to myself.
I’ve talked with counselors and my church pastor about this and it may be time to put a plan into action. I’ll know when I’m ready. If you, like myself, are not ready – be easy on yourself. You’ve been through a boat load of dung.
On that note, until next week – K xo
