Hope is Human

These are images of hope that never crossed my mind without your help. Steve and Violet sent this photo of their new grandson, Luke. What says hope better than new life?

Proving that you don't have to be a baby to be the embodiment of hope, Marje sent this photo of her grandson, Zan, "who is all about hope." 

Finally, this living taste of hope has been on my refrigerator for months. Meet my niece Melissa and her fiance Pete. Can you see the hope (and love) in their eyes?

Before I could even post this, Steve and Violet came through again. Meet their newest granddaughter Katelyn. And yes, she really was born yesterday.

Thank you to all for sending these images of hope. They're doing the trick! I'm feeling more hopeful with each new image. I hope this is doing the same for each of you as well.

This Hope is Hard to Miss

Craig forwarded a link to this photo of Hope that jumps out to grab you. Megan Kowalewski's comment on her Instagram photo: "Never lose hope. Well, at least this one you can't."

If You are Looking for Hope, You Will Find It

My buddy Todd loves sailing, along with just about every other kind of watercraft. So where would Todd find Hope? - A ship, of course. Thank you, Todd!

Steve's Sunrise Brings Hope

Steve sent this photo he took of Sunrise at the Oregon coast. What brings more hope than the promise of a new day?

Thank you, Steve!

Hope is in the Eye of the Beholder

Keith reminded me that hope comes in many forms. Perfect! Thanks, Keith!

Violet's Flowers Bringing Hope

Violet sent these images of hope. "If this flower can bloom on a sand dune, you can beat the record!"

“She also sent this one: “Buds in Spring - A sure sign of hope.”

Thank you, Violet!”

New CT Results, and Requesting a Little Hope

Friends and Family,

My latest CT scan results are in, and things remain spectacularly unchanged. Can you see my smile from there? :-) I feel increasing gratitude after every scan, because I can’t count on this lasting forever.

I know this because the New England Journal of Medicine just published the Phase I trial results for AZD9291 (http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMoa1411817). The average time people stayed on the drug before their cancer started growing again was 9.6 months. If my results are average, I have a couple of months before things change. I don’t plan to be average. I’m treating the stats like you would a pole vaulting competition. Somebody has to set the record. 

Ever since I ran into a guy at the LUNGevity Hope Summit who had been on Tarceva for eight years (roughly seven years longer than average – and still going), it has raised my level of hope.

How much difference can hope make? How much difference can love and support make? This is where I’m asking for your help.

Two things. First, I’m asking if you will send me your images of hope. In my last blog entry (below) I posted a couple of images of "Hope" that I found in Washington DC. I’m hoping you will help me expand that list by emailing more images to me. It makes more difference than you can imagine. As proof, those images you sent to me of light zapping the cancer and healing light a few months ago kept me (and many others) flying for months!

Second, I’m inviting you to join me for the Lung Love Run/Walk on Saturday, June 20th. My very own team, “Live Lung and Prosper,” welcomes new members and/or donations at http://bit.ly/1Kj9tbk. If you join by this Friday, June 29th, they can still guarantee you a tee shirt. After that it’s a gamble. (Sorry, it’s the real estate agent in me. Gotta create a sense of urgency.)

OK, I held back the best part of my CT scan results. It showed that my Swiss cheese hip bones and spine are turning solid again. Was this improvement caused by the AZD9291? Was it caused by the bone strengthening (Zgeva) injections combined with calcium supplements? Was it the healing light sent by y’all???

Hoping everything is going well for you, too.

Love,

Dann

Footnote: If you don’t have my email address, go to the Contact tab at the top of the page and give me your email address. I’ll reply with mine.

Hope is Where You Find It

After the LUNGevity HOPE Summit in DC last week, I was pumped. I was feeling the hope, and I still am. I even found Hope in a couple of unexpected places. First there was this:

That got me excited to look for more Hope. I found this in the Smithsonian Natural History Museum:

                                                            Hope Diamond

James Bond taught us that "Diamonds are Forever," but now you know that Hope is forever, too!

So now I'm looking for signs of Hope everywhere, and I would love to have your help. Share the Hope! Send me your pictures and I'll share the Hope with others. Be as creative about what "Hope" means as you like.

If you don't have my direct email address, click on the "Contact" tab above and email me that way. I'll email you back so you can send your photos to me. 

My Future's so Bright...

 In my last entry I told you it felt like my future's so bright, I gotta wear shades. Thanks to Marika for "brightening" my day with another image that makes the picture complete.  :-)

Things are going to H@%%

Friends and Family,

That four-letter “H” word is back on my mind again lately, and it’s not the one that would have gotten me in trouble in grade school.

About three and a half years ago, my company had new pictures taken of all of the brokers. Since I was just about to start chemo, the timing for a picture wasn’t the best. Should I have my picture taken with a full head of hair? If I did, then people who first saw my picture on our website wouldn’t recognize me when they met me and my shiny, pale, bald, head in person.

So should I shave my head bald? That would be confusing later, after I finished chemo, and my hair grew back.

So which H-word is the real me? Hairy or hairless? And why is this so important? Sorting this out was giving me a bad hair day.

I decided to compromise. I gradually cut my hair shorter over a few weeks, so that everyone – including me – could get used to it. Just before I had my picture taken, and before chemo kicked in, I had my final haircut. This cut left little to the imagination.

After chemo was finished and my hair grew back, Greg, one of the partners, asked me if I wanted to have my picture taken again. “No,” I said, “I like the picture. Let’s leave it as it is.” Greg kept asking over the next three years. Although my answer didn’t change, Greg was right to wonder.

I worried that I’d soon be back in chemo, and once again bald. And if that happened… well, before long  they may not need any picture of me on the website. See where I’m going with this? There’s more meaning to hair than hair. I had more doubts about my future than I would care to admit. It was a lot like  a couple of years ago, when I thought that there was no point in buying new underwear if I didn’t think I’d be around long enough to use it.

So why did I finally ask to have my picture retaken? It’s because of that H word. No, I’m not talking about H@%%. I’m also not talking hair. I’m talking hope.

Running laps around your life expectancy a few times can do that for you. So can having great success on a new clinical trial. Having amazing doctors that have creative ideas about how to deal with lung cancer can give you hope too , even if no cutting-edge treatments would be a fit in the near future. My future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades. Maybe it’s so bright because of all those images of rays of light zapping the cancer cells that all of you have sent me.  

Here’s more reason for hope: I have been on three treatments that didn’t even exist for lung cancer patients the first time I went through cancer. Tarceva, Avastin, and AZD9291 are all new. How can that not make you more optimistic?

You can probably even see it in my picture. You know, the new, permanent one.

Maybe I can even relax a little. You know, let my hair down. Not take things so seriously.

I hope there’s reason for hope in your life, too.

Love,

Dann