Thanks and Giving

I have so much to be thankful for.

I can't possibly start to list them all. I'm scared I would forget someone. The obvious ones:

• I'm thankful for the power of prayer and positive thinking.

• I'm thankful for modern medicine.
• Lung cancer treatments have kept me alive with a quality of life that is allowing me to be brave enough and my body strong enough to tackle this new brain disease battle.

• I'm thankful for my continued life.
• I was diagnosed with stage iv lung cancer in August 2015. I was recently diagnosed with an ultra rare progressive brain disease.  But we know from researching my cancer brain scans, I've been living with this for over 2 years.  It's even possible I was born with this disease.  We may never know the cause or the time it developed.

• I'm thankful for the love and support from my family and friends, near and far.
• I'm also thankful for the friends that are more like family to me.
• I only know some of these people from being online.  I know I must have met a few of these distant relatives when I was a child and when I was younger. I'm thankful we found each other and are able to stay in touch thanks to Facebook.

• I'm thankful for the kindness of strangers.
• This comes from many places.  It overwhelms me at times to think about the individuals, foundations and organizations that come together to support me, my fundraising, my wellness and my quality of life.

It's the giving season.

Please consider making a donation this Giving Tuesday.

I can't thank the people that have already donated to help me get through my trip to California and recovery from my upcoming brain surgery.  All our savings has been spent on my lung cancer battle.  There is no savings and very limited paid time off work to get us through the next 10-12 weeks.

A Go Fund Me account has been set up to help collect needed funds to get me through this difficult time.  To make a donation to my Go Fun Me account, click the DONATE button.

Lisa Moran Battles Brain Disease

If you prefer to make a Tax Deductible donation this Giving Tuesday, please consider donating to these charities that are near and dear to me.

• Lung Cancer Survivors Super Bowl Challenge 2018
• This will benefit the Chris Draft Family Foundation/Team Draft
• If over $1000 is donated to my campaign, 50% of the donations will benefit the Lung Cancer Colorado Fund.
• Angel Flight West
• This organization is helping me arrange a free flight to California for my brain bypass surgery.
• Stanford Neurosurgery Department
• You can specify your donation be given to my surgeon, Dr. Gary Steinberg or to the Moyamoya Center to help in discovering the cause of this terrible disease and develop new treatments.
• LifeSpark Cancer Resources 

This organization has provided me with free reiki and healing touch sessions that's relieved me from physical pain and stress.

Now, on to my Thanksgiving Traditions.

As I'm posting this blog entry, I'm watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. To attend in person is a bucket list item of mine.  I have the mac n cheese in the crockpot. Some of you know my "secret ingredient".  Since moving to Colorado, Thanksgiving weekend 1999, it seems more traditional to have Thanksgiving dinner with friends than family.  Jeremy and I will be joining friends for dinner today. For those of you that have opened your homes and set a place at your thanksgiving table for me,

THANK YOU!  

If No One Fights Alone, Why Do I Feel So Lonely?

I've wanted to make this blog entry for some time. It's been a working title for weeks. I've been searching for the correct wording and message to convey my feelings without making it sound like a pity party or a guilt trip.

Then this week someone did it for me. I read Linnea Olson's latest blog and it said just about everything I've wanted to say and more.

It’s a jungle out here

Posted on June 12, 2017

Pretend for a moment that one hundred people are standing in front of you. The only thing you know about them is that they all have lung cancer. One at a time, each person approaches you and then shares some intimate detail about their lives. Sometimes you sense that you have much in common with the speaker, sometimes little. In each case you get an overwhelming sense of their humanity.

You are thinking about how you would like to get to know some of them better when I drop a bombshell: only eighteen of these people will be alive in five years.

It shocks you but I assure you I have not told you this merely for dramatic effect; statistically speaking, this is an actual scenario. The five year overall survival statistics for all stages of lung cancer cancer are only 18%. At stage IV, that number drops to 2%, or just two individuals out of one hundred.

Statistics only tell part of the story because numbers are not nearly as compelling as living, breathing human beings.

Now imagine what it’s like to be one of those hundred; that you too have been diagnosed with lung cancer; that you too will fall somewhere along this statistical curve.

It is a terrifying feeling, and isolating as well–as many of us feel that friends and family can’t really comprehend the sometimes debilitating anxiety that is part and parcel of our diagnosis.

We often combat that feeling of isolation by connecting with others people living with lung cancer–through support groups, social media, summits, or advocacy work. However, this network can become a double edged sword, as we are now invested in each other’s outcomes. When one of us passes away, a collective shiver runs through the entire community. We grieve, we rage, but we also rightly wonder if we might be next.

Over time, it becomes a trauma–this mix of fear and sadness. And for those whose cancer is considered incurable–and in the case of lung cancer, that would be most of us–there is no post to our traumatic stress. It is ongoing, or OTSD.

We focus on staying alive even as we worry–constantly–about dying. And, because we often don’t look as if we are ill, it is very, very difficult for those around us to fathom what it’s like to live on borrowed time.

Can you plan a vacation six months from now? Is it worth spending the money to get your dental work done? Will you be there when your kids graduate from high school?

As a society there is a great deal of emphasis on planning for the future. When you are living with cancer, it often feels as if the future has nothing to do with you.

I’ve now been living with the idea of dying for over twelve years–more than 20% of my time on earth. How do I do it? One day, one moment, one person at a time.

xo dedicated to all we’ve loved and lost–far too young, far too many

It's not easy living in the 2%. But I'm still living. It's tough being so far away from most of my friends and family. I recently participated in a lung cancer walk. I was a speaker and shared my story at the event. If my mom and sister wouldn't have come from out of state, it would have been me and Jeremy, team of two.

At times it feels like it's just me and Jeremy against the world, against lung cancer and against the clock. More often than not, lately, it's me against him and him against me. We butt heads over the tiniest of things.  In the past we've recognized this behavior and realized it wasn't us. It's the stresses of lung cancer on our relationship. So for those periods of time, it's just me against everything I have and everything I don't have control over.

The next time you see me begging for your support for an upcoming event and we live in the same town, it's not all about the money and donations. It's about needing time together and your presence in my life, how ever long that may be.

What is HOPE?

I was diagnosed with stage iv lung cancer in August 2015. I didn't register for the 2016 LUNGevity Hope Summit. At the time, I was just getting used to life with lung cancer. I followed the social media posts and photos. It looked like a good time was had by all. It gave me hope and inspiration. I got to attend and be in the photos this year.

Hope Summit features inspirational speakers, medical expert forums, lung cancer survivor-specific sessions, and opportunities for lung cancer survivors to connect with other survivors and share their stories. Their stories of hope. Hope Summit is appropriately named because that's what this last weekend delivered. I'm at a new step in my treatment plan. You would think being immersed in three full days of lung cancer talk would be depressing and make me worry about these next steps. It was just the opposite.

As a first time attendee, I applied for and was granted airfare and hotel stay to attend this year's Lungevity Hope Summit in Washington DC . Lungevity provides this so all lung cancer patients have an opportunity to participate in this event.

I also attended an advocate day, which was on the eve of the Hope Summit kick off. I was interested in finding out information on advocacy and how to be more involved, if possible.

On Thursday evening I went out to dinner with a fairly large group of lung cancer patients and survivors. This was one of my favorite moments of my trip. I find it interesting that 17 people, with 17 different backgrounds, 17 different lung cancer stories and probably 17 different combined lung cancer treatments and/or drugs and we instantly bond with one another. Some have had it rough and some have been to hell and back. Some have been dealing with this for months and others for 12+ years. But having lung cancer is our common ground. I heard a good comparison once. Someone was taking about skiing. He said the downhill skier going 70+mph has the same adrenaline rush as the beginning skier, even when they aren't going the same speeds. I'm guessing the 17 of us have the same hatred for lung cancer.

Having time with other lung cancer patients and survivors was my best part of going to Hope Summit. It gave me the opportunity to thank two of them, in particular, in person.

I was at the top of my physical fitness game when I was diagnosed. One of my first fears was the possibility of never running again or working out like I used to. But I watched videos of Juanita power lifting and doing what she loved and what she did before lung cancer. That gave me hope.

The other was Patty. I would see her online, participating in events with Team Draft. Her smile and attitude would shine in the photos and videos.

I knew I wanted to be a part of that. It gave me hope that one day I would. And I did! Down to the wire, Patty was my biggest competition during the Team Draft Lung Cancer Survivors Super Bowl Challenge. If anyone was going to raise more funds than me and knock me out of the running, I wanted it to be Patty.

Several weeks ago this question came up. What is hope? Without thinking too hard about it, this acronym came to mind.

Hope

is

Having Optimistic Perspectives Everyday.

Facing My Own Mortality

I participate in online lung cancer support groups. It seems like there is a daily post from a caregiver or family member regarding their loved one's lung cancer death. Hearing these stories makes me sad for those families. It also makes me angry. I HATE lung cancer. But after hearing and processing the horrible news of another life lost, my thoughts go elsewhere. I know every lung cancer is different. I think to myself, that's not me, that's not my cancer. I'm so lucky to be as well as I am.

This last week there was a death that hit me hard. It took my thoughts to places they haven't gone. It wasn't a lung cancer death. It was the untimely death of a former co-worker. He was a passenger in a Jeep Cherokee that missed a turn on a mountain road and went down a ravine. Two of the five people in the vehicle died.

It's so unfair. Jacob was a young, smart, healthy, fun loving prankster with his whole life ahead of him. Why is he gone and I'm still here? I have stage iv lung cancer. Shouldn't I, the one with the terminal illness, be gone and Jacob should be here living out his life and carrying out his practical jokes?

I have heard of survivor's guilt. I thought I experienced it. Well, whatever I felt while reading news of a lung cancer death was nothing compared to the feelings that have come up since Jacob's death. I know it sounds strange to experience survivor's guilt in this situation. I wasn't in the accident. He didn't have lung cancer.

I was diagnosed with stage iv lung cancer in August 2015. To tell you the truth, I've thought of my impending death. It's inevitable that one day lung cancer will take my life. I came to terms with that early on. What is difficult to process is the new thoughts of, why am I still here? I have never questioned that. My thoughts, until now, have always been along the lines of, "how lucky am I to be here", not, "why aren't I dead yet?"

I'm a genuinely happy person. My blog is Peace Lungs & HAPPINESS. Can I get back to my happy go lucky self again? I've heard the saying, you can't unsee something. Can I unthink these dark thoughts? Will I always doubt my current existence on this earth? They also say, time heals all wounds. I hope that in time I can get back to appreciating and enjoying every moment of the rest of my life without questioning it.

How Not To Let Lung Cancer Win

I completed my Livestrong at the Y program. I tried not to miss any Livestrong days at the gym during the program. There was one particular day that I was feeling very down and tired. I just didn't have it in me that day. But my boyfriend gave me a pep talk. If you would put his pep talks in a book, the title would be, "How Not To Let Lung Cancer Win". Think in this instance he used my, no missed opportunities, motto to remind me that I should not stay at home on the couch that evening.

I went to class. It was yoga that day. Even when I was feeling some pain and I was run down from the day, I was there. I was able to fully participate. The instructor said some words that made quite an impression that day and impacted me for the rest of my life. We were holding a pose and she said something along the lines of, "this is how you are today. Recognize it. But it doesn't mean that's how you will be tomorrow."

In my day planner, in July 2016, there is one day marked with several stars. That was one of the very few days I had no pain, no fatigue, and I almost made it through the whole day without thinking or talking about my lung cancer. Those days are very rare. It's only happened a couple times since starting my treatment in September 2015.

I don't post too much about the bad days. My symptoms and side effects are intermittent. If I do complain, in the next few days things are different. My approach is the "life must go on" method. Almost like, putting the negatives in words will give them strength.

I had goals set for this fall that I've had to change or postpone to next year. Remember how excited I was about running again? I was only able to run a couple of times. At the same time as I started running again my side effects started kicking in. I was getting tired more easily. Stomach and digestive issues that I've been lucky enough to mostly avoid were happening often. I was experiencing new types of pain.  I was training to run the Run the Rocks 5k in October. If mental preparedness was all it took, I would have climbed the incline already. But the downside of feeling so well and living a half way normal life is feeling not so well at the same time.

The body and the mind are strange. Does the comfort of friends and family or the excitement of an opportunity/event overpower the negative effects and feelings caused by my lung cancer and treatment? The answer must be, yes.

Surrounded by my dearest friends and with the support of my family, I was able to complete and even run a good portion of the Run the Rocks 5k last month.

This is what Stage iv lung cancer looks like on a good day....and sometimes on a bad day too.

The Ones That Give Me Hope

Earlier this month I attended the GRACE Targeted Therapies in Lung Cancer Patients Forum in Denver, CO. It was a one day conference focusing on lung cancer treatments for patients with genetic mutations, like me.

Lisa Moran at GRACE Targeted Therapies
in Lung Cancer Patients Forum, August 20, 2016

While learning a few new things, I realized I already know a lot there is to know about my disease. Early on I found out that I must be my own patient advocate. The conference was full of other self educated, lung cancer patient advocates.

I was lucky enough to spend some time outside of the forum with these lung cancer patients. I said before that lung cancer was like a sorority that I didn't ask to be a member of. But this lung cancer community is more like a supportive family that I wouldn't want to be without. I learned just as much as about my disease at dinner than at the forum.

Lung cancer patients and family members at dinner

Holding up fingers for number of years we've been surviving lung cancer.
Bottom left: Linnea Olson had to borrow a finger from her son for 11 yrs.

When I first spoke to my lung cancer friend, Mara, on the phone, it was like we were old friends catching up. We had never met. But we had this common ground, kinship, and bond already.

I felt the same way when I met Linnea Olson at dinner after the forum. I was familiar with her. I had seen her profile photos and read about her online.

Linnea Olson, diagnosed with lung cancer 11 years ago

I now know what her profile photos sound like. Her laughter and zest for life are contagious. We shared the biggest, (maybe) too loud for a hotel restaurant, belly laugh at my expense. It was our own "Who's On First?" moment. I was racking my brain trying to remember a session from earlier in the day. Linnea said, "Chemo brain." I agreed and added something about how frustrating it is to have moments when I can't remember things. Turns out the session I couldn't recall was called 'Combating Chemo Brain'.

Linnea Olson and Lisa Moran, August 20, 2016

I wondered what the female version of The Godfather was. I almost felt like I should kiss Linnea's ring. I guess she's the Matriarch of lung cancer? But seriously, she is a remarkable woman, a pioneer in lung cancer research and a true inspiration to me and many others.

Recently the ASCO Post (American Society of  Oncology) published an article featuring Linnea Olson, her lung cancer story and her outlook on the future.

http://www.ascopost.com/issues/august-25-2016/my-oncologists-make-me-feel-safe-even-while-living-with-terminal-cancer/

Just My Luck

Since my lung cancer diagnosis there has never been, why me? When talking about my lung cancer, the words, luck and lucky have come up over and over.

• How lucky am I to have a genetic mutation?
• How lucky am I to live in Colorado, so close to University of Colorado Cancer Center and possibly the best lung cancer doctors in the world?
• What luck to be diagnosed just weeks before the World Conference on Lung Cancer in Denver and I was able to register and attend a session.
• How lucky am I to have a beer dedicated to me and brewed in my honor?

That's right! My own beer! My friend, Todd Greiner, is behind this. He made a home brew. I taste tested it in April 2016 during a visit to Ohio. That is when the beer was, I don't know how to say it, 'gifted' to me. He said he wanted me to name it. He would brew the beer in my honor and portions of the proceeds would go to lung cancer awareness and research fundraising. After some brainstorming, we had a name. Lisa's Luck Amber Ale was created.

Todd entered Lisa's Luck in a brewing contest. He won! Fifth Street Brewpub in Dayton, OH is brewing 14 kegs of Lisa's Luck Amber Ale. It will be available on tap mid September.

Todd brewing the first batch of Lisa's Luck Amber Ale

at Fifth Street Brewpub on August 18, 2016

The beer will make it's debut at the Lisa's Luck Tapping Party and fundraising event on September 17, 2016.

Click HERE for details and to RSVP.

It Takes A Village

I hope I don't forget anyone. I want to give a shout out to everyone that has had a hand in my diagnosis, treatment and quality of life over this last year.

First, my family and friends. This has been quite a year. And if I needed anything, you were there. Most of you dropped your personal life to be by my side. Thank you and I love you.

Again, I will edit this post and add to this list of I realize I forgot anyone.

Colorado Springs Family Practice
C. David Bird, MD

Pulmonary Associates
Steven Mohnssen, MD

Memorial Hospital Cancer Center
Lisa Allison, Nurse Navigator
Sayla Dennington, Social Worker
Victoria Cortez
Dr. Blum
Dr. Ridings

Bonnie J. Addario Lung Cancer Foundation

International Association for the Study of Lung Cancer

#LCSM Chat

American Lung Association in Colorado
Lung Force

University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus
D. Ross Camidge, MD, PhD

Lifespark
Sylvia
Cece
Judy

Livestrong at the YMCA

Team Draft
Chris Draft

In addition to this list, I want to acknowledge and thank my online support groups and lung cancer message boards. I won't list them, because I know I won't remember all the sites. Also, some of the groups are private. They are with me 24/7.

I can't imagine having lung cancer and going through this before social media. This lung cancer community has answered many questions, given plenty of advice, calmed many anxieties and raised my hopes.

Team Peace Lungs & Happiness was created just days after my diagnosis. I immediately had this sense of love that embraced me from all over the world. Team PLH is a global effort. I can't thank my family and friends enough for all your thoughts, prayers and support. Thank you for sharing my story with so many of your friends, colleagues and church congregations while calling on them to send me good thoughts and prayers. The power of positive thinking and prayer is a wonderful thing. Get ready for some exciting Team PLH announcements in the coming months.

The one person that has kept me together the most over the last year is my boyfriend, Jeremy. I say, "when we got lung cancer". I'm the one that has to go through the medical procedures, but we are in this thing together. He has been my rock, sounding board, counselor, doctor, voice of reason and shoulder to cry on. If we made it through the last 12 months, we can endure anything. He's a keeper.

There are no words for me to use that can thank the above people and organizations enough. Keep doing what you do so I can continue to live the greatest, happiest, longest, life possible.

THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM

OF MY HEART!

You all bring me Peace Lungs & Happiness every day!

Countdown to August 1, 2016

I will be released for all physical activities as of August 1. It just so happens to also be World Lung Cancer Day.

I am currently able to participate in low impact activities. After August 1 I'll be allowed to run again. I plan on running at least 1 mile symbolic run on August 1.

This was Week One of my Livestrong at the Y sessions. I'm so excited to get back to working out again. With the program my boyfriend/caregiver and I get free YMCA memberships to use anytime during the 12 week program.

Lisa Moran ready for Livestrong at the Y, June 11, 2016

I went to my first spinning class in a year. It was actually my first fitness class in a year. I have to admit, I got very emotional during the class. I was there, working out, just like before I got sick. I was there, working out! It was just like old times. I even had one of my dearest gym friends by my side. My friend, John, works out at the Y. We used to work out together in group fitness classes at Bally's and have known each other for over 10 years. 

During my spin class I got emotional thinking about being able to do the things I love again. I also thought of an online lung cancer connection, Don Stranathan. He is a seven year stage iv lung cancer survivor.  For several months I've followed his posts about going to his spin classes. His posts have been so inspirational and motivational. Thank you, Don.

The F Word(s)

The 4th of July has been one of my top holidays. We will be celebrating the 4th on the 3rd this year. Today's activities will include family, food, a festival, friends, fun and fireworks. Some of my favorite F words!  Be safe everyone and enjoy your holiday weekend.

The Best Laid Plans...

I've had an online friend for 15 years.  Her name is Mary. She lives on the east coast. We have common interests and and a common sense of humor.  Fitness is one those interests. Last year we decided that we would plan a trip to meet for the first time and we would run a 5k together.

That meeting took place last week. The plan to meet Mary was the last thing I had left of my life before lung cancer. So her visit was extra special.

She walked with me at the Denver Lung Force Walk on June 11. That was a 1/2 mile course. (I'll blog about the Walk in a different post.) That evening we went to Mile High Stadium for the Broncos Stadium Challenge 5k. 

I'm on some physical/exercise restrictions since my spine is still healing from my radiation treatment and from having the spinal tumor all together.  We went through the obstacle course.  Because of my restrictions I skipped a couple obstacles and I modified another. But I finished along side my good friend, Mary.

We started walking our 5k, the reason for her trip to Colorado. Before we could get to the point of the route where we would enter the stadium, be on the jumbo tron and have our photo taken, a lightening storm started. Our route was diverted to a weather safety shelter area on Concourse 9. We waited as long as we could. But hunger won and we left without finishing the 5k. A few minutes later we found out it was officially called off.  

The next day we had plans to go to the summit house at the top of Pikes Peak.  We almost  made it there.  But my car stalled a couple times from the altitude on the Pikes Peak Highway. It started up and we made the decision to skip the summit and turn around.  

Do you see a pattern here?  Even when things didn't go as planned, we still had a great time.  I can't thank Mary enough for her friendship and for visiting me.  I can't wait until the time she can return to Colorado and we can try to complete another 5k and maybe take the Cog Railway to the top of Pikes Peak.