1000 Prayers for Japan

My heart aches this week for the people of Japan.
It's not as if I don't know anyone living in that country.
As a matter of fact, I know of seven people (some I've met, others I have not).
They are now living in a country devastated by an earthquake and tsunami.

10,000 feared dead
Threat of nuclear meltdown
Shortages of food and water
Loss of electricity

None of the events over the past few days has directly affected the small town of Osaka, where Sean lives. Sean was Jeff's best friend in high school. He has lived in Japan for more than 17 years, and is married to Ikuko. They have four children: Karen, Megan and Sarah, and a lone boy, Simon. Ikuko's mother is part of their family.

In last Friday Facebook post, Sean asked us to pray for the people of Japan.

Prayer: a devout petition to God.

I immediately thought about the Senbazuru, which hangs in my bedroom window. It is a collection of one thousand origami paper cranes held together by strings. Sean sent it to me while I underwent chemo treatment. He didn't personally fold each crane. He didn't have to. Instead, he solicited help from family, neighbors, friends, employees, students...anyone willing to make a crane and say a prayer. The 1,000 paper cranes, intricately woven into a breath-taking design, was an ever-present reminder that people in Japan prayed for me.

In light of the impending nuclear threat, what better time to pray. While I cannot orchestrate the assembly of a Senbazuru, perhaps I can solicit prayer for the people of Japan.

...1,000 prayers for Japan,
Who's with me?

Choose Life

The first time I remember hearing the word CANCER,
I was seven years old, and my grandfather was dead.
It was probably another ten years before I recall hearing that word again.

But since having my own occurrence with breast cancer,
not a month passes without my being told of another life,
interrupted by the disease.

Take the case of a friend's friend.

She was diagnosed with breast cancer at an early age, when cancers are generally most aggressive. Against her doctor's advice, she decided not to undergo chemotherapy and received radiation therapy only -

...which got me to thinking:
What would make a person forgo a potentially life-extending treatment?
Was she afraid?
Did she believe she would be okay without chemo?

As I pondered the question, I was reminded that my aunt also chose a similar path, nearly 15 years ago. When cancer was discovered in one of her breasts, she had a mastectomy. After surgery, the recommended standard of care was chemo, followed by radiation. Aunt D. passed on the former.

But when her cancer returned more than two years ago, she began to regret her earlier decision. After my first surgery, she wrote a letter encouraging me to take the chemo, if offered by my doctors. There was little question in my mind that I would.

Was I afraid? Definitely.
Did I believe I could be okay without chemo? Definitely not.

In fact, I spent months trying to wiggle out from under radiation. I shopped RadOncs, looking for someone who would tell me that I didn't need to have the therapy. When radiation was "strongly recommended" three times, I acquiesced.
I wanted no regrets.

My aunt's decision to skip chemo may have cost her more than a breast.
The pain started in her back and moved to her legs.
Walking became difficult.
She is currently undergoing treatment and probably will for the rest of her life.

Last week, I was introduced to a different woman living with Stage 4 Bone Metastasis.
I know little about her, but I assume that she is REALLY tired of hearing the word- CANCER.
I would also guess that she is afraid.
Hell, we're all afraid of something.
The decision to undergo treatment or not is highly personal.
But I'd be willing to bet that if treatment appears to be the only option for saving or extending life,
most of us would chose life.

I know I did.