Off The Hook

No, this is not an image from Discovery Channel's recent Shark Week, but it surely rivals any of the spectacle you might have seen there:

Ummm, yes.  That is Sheri.  CATCHING A SHARK.  In an evening gown. I showed this pic to someone who exclaimed, "That looks like a bad-ass Marilyn Monroe!"  Another thought it looked like Pink, and argued that at the very least the whole image could be an amazing Pink CD cover.

When I raved to Sheri about how cool I thought this was (threatening to blow it up to poster size and hang it on my bedroom wall), she laughed and said, "Yeah, did you like my glam Uggs?" which I had not even noticed.  She clarified that the "evening gown" was in fact a nightgown (forcing me to rethink my usual slumber fare of husband's boxers and a tank top), and that cousin-extraordinaire Timmy had provided some assistance in the capture.

Whatever, dude.  This ROCKS.  What a powerful reminder of the strength and fierceness that is such a Sheri Gersin hallmark.








And the timing is good for this image that strikes me as as a pretty apt metaphor for Sheri's amazing approach to the challenges of cancer. In July, Sheri learned that her numbers were up. She needed to get treatment going again, and went off of Avastin and on a biological agent called Cytoxin (I think).  It is a pill with the most notable side effect being hot flashes.  At her most recent evaluation in August her Ca125 was 59 from 52.  The plan is to stay the course and go back in a month.

A lot has happened this summer. I have had the pleasure of hanging out with Sheri a handful of times (but not nearly enough!!) and at every turn she had me laughing.  I was very proud to introduce her to "Superbad" the movie and no surprise, she McLOVED it! And we have developed a new expression of affection that involves Sheri slapping the hell out of my ass.  It is extremely dignified as you would expect and goes over particularly well at professional gatherings -- medical meetings, etc. That's right . . . you can't take us ANYWHERE!!  Damn straight.

Beautiful Sheri in Pinehurst.

Sheri and friends at 5Church in Cltte

Sorry for the detour down friendship lane, but there have been many fun times this spring and summer, and I love thinking about them all.  In fact, a most wonderful time included Sheri's fabulous 40th birthday celebration at Jerald Melburg Gallery. We MUST get some photos up from that special night.

Speaking of fun times, I am happy to introduce Linus and Lucy, Sheri's new pups.  As you can see, just like everyone else they love their momma.  The kids are a bit wary, I understand, 'cause the pooches are herding dogs and tend to herd the boys.  I find this brilliant and hope to hire them to sit for my two in the near future.

Having such a big heart for animals, it was unsurprising that the family would take on another dog.  It might have been a bit of a surprise that they got two dogs.  When you hear the word "puppies," maybe you picture two teeny tiny bundles of fur?  Ha! Have you ever heard the expression "Go big or go home"? Yeah, baby!

Of course, life constantly has ups and downs. Sadly, dear sweet Holly, in Sheri's words "aka lover, love, lover sweet cutie patutie, sweetie petetie," passed away this summer.  It was was very peaceful at the end, and Sheri said she is sure she is running in heaven.  

Most Awesome Guard(ian Angel) Dog

I am very happy to report that Sheri is going to start posting on the blog!  You can look forward to hearing from her in the future.  

I hope you all are well.  Good luck to everyone with back-to-school chaos. And thanks as always for all of your love and support for Sheri and for the Gersin family.

~ Bess

Rights of Spring

Greetings from toasty Charlotte, where the seasons change literally overnight, and then often change back again.  If you blink, you might miss it . . . which is unfortunate, because in the pollen dust storm also known as "spring" around here, you will find yourself blinking (and coughing and wheezing) a lot. This is a brief deal -- soon the temps will hover somewhere in the 90's, and our 6 months of summer will officially begin.

But on the upside, we do have these crazy few weeks where everything bursts into bloom, so much color and birdsong, like landing in Oz where the black-and-white bleakness of winter gives way to glorious technicolor. And certainly there is something about the springtime that feels very hopeful and happy . . . which is perfectly appropriate for all that I have to share with you now:

When I last left you, many weeks ago, Sheri's dad was confronting a cancer diagnosis.  The update: he had surgery April 4th and did great -- was up and walking around on the 5th! Total rock star (runs in the family). Several days later the pathology report revealed more good news:  no lymph node involvement!  Very good news.

But wait, there's more!  Sheri had a scan on the 5th as well, and in her words "it looks perfect"!  Hallelujah!

Yes, there is just something about spring.   Forget about the "rites" of the season -- I am just glad that in the spring of 2013, so much is right for Sheri and her fabulous family! 

~Bess 

One Up One Down

Have you ever played the (drinking) game "one up, one down"?  It can be really fun, or really maddening, depending upon how quickly you catch on to the rules -- which are not explained to you before playing.  The person who starts (and is in the know) will say "one up, one down" or "two up" or "two down."  The next person goes and says one of those three choices, and is either congratulated or corrected.  Eventually folks catch on that the phrase refers to where your hands are.  Two up around your face; one down holding your drink with the other tucking a piece of hair behind your ear; two down in your lap.

The game of life can be really fun, or really maddening, too.  Sometimes it feels like just as things are looking up, something else comes around to knock you down. Often there is no rhyme or reason.  You keep playing and guessing and hoping that the fates are smiling on you, that its going to go your way this time, that you have figured it out.

I thought of the phrase "one up, one down" when I sat down to write this post, because Tuesday Sheri finished her last round of Taxal!  One WAY UP for sure.  Her dad has received a cancer diagnosis and is preparing for surgery.  One  . . . down?  Maybe.  Of course that is not the news you would hope for.  But there are options for treatment, the family is together, Keith has helped navigate the plan, and hey . . . sweet Sam celebrated a birthday over the weekend.  One up, one up, one up, one up SKY HIGH!!

So much you can't control . . . but whether you circle up and support each other through the challenging times . . . as Sheri and her family have demonstrated . . . that part is all in your hands.

~Bess

Important Update

I wish that this post was a continuation of  happy news, but unfortunately another challenge has been thrown Sheri's way.  Her father was admitted to Mercy Hospital after experiencing difficulty breathing. In addition to the acute situation, it appears he may have primary lung cancer.  There is a plan to undergo surgery once he can tolerate it; that will happen here.

Needless to say, this is quite a shock.  Sheri is trying to pinpoint what would be helpful in the way of support; once I hear from her I will let you know.  Thankfully, her last text to me said that Jim was doing much better and that there is a great game plan for whatever happens.

Please keep the entire family in your prayers.

~Bess

Begin With The End In Mind

When I first read Stephen Covey's 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, I had a bit of an out-of-body experience.  I was immersed in a celebratory Outward Bound-esque trip in honor of my husband's 40th birthday. We were scuba diving and cave spelunking and exploring and otherwise testing our physical selves in Belize. I was in grad school at the time, and while I was able to leave a lot of my every day life behind me on this trip, my homework came along for the ride.

So maybe it was the intoxicating balmy breezes, or the exotic food, or the Mayan temples, or the serene ocean animals, or the bright display of color and sound, but I found the ideas in this book to be electric.  And although I don't remember every detail of this work (having passed 40 myself some years ago), a good bit has stayed with me.

Habit 2 is Begin With the End in Mind.  Covey explains:


Habit 2 is based on imagination--the ability to envision in your mind what you cannot at present see with your eyes. It is based on the principle that all things are created twice. There is a mental (first) creation, and a physical (second) creation. The physical creation follows the mental, just as a building follows a blueprint. If you don't make a conscious effort to visualize who you are and what you want in life, then you empower other people and circumstances to shape you and your life by default.


I'm pretty certain that Covey was not envisioning a battle with cancer when he wrote about this approach, and it certainly is not appropriate or fair to suggest that someone facing a physical monster just needs to "mentally create" wellness.  But when I read those words recently they made me think of Sheri  -- because she has been so purposeful in this process; so focused on getting where she needed and wanted to be; so clear about what is important to her. 

Once Sheri texted about her sweet boys, and said "I am fighting for them and it might sound weird  . . . but it is comforting to know that the person I want to be, for the most part, is the person I am."  And that is why we love her so much.  She is exactly who she is meant to be and that shines through even in the most challenging times. 

And she has reason to celebrate this week:

I am SO happy to report that this week marked THE END of her hard chemo treatments!!  

After so many weeks of hard work, after surgery and sickness, and after grappling with a "new normal," Sheri has completed this important part of her plan.  I am so proud of her and of her family. 

There will be a continuation of treatment that will not be as difficult as what she has just finished.She will have Taxal the next two Tuesdays, and then get a month off.  After a CT scan she will then have Avastin once every three weeks by infusion for the next year and a half to two years.  

The journey continues -- but every victory along the way is worth reflection  . . . and CELEBRATION! Congratulations, Sheri!

~Bess

You Can Leave Your Hat On

You know what is really sexy?  Someone who makes you laugh until your sides hurt, until you have to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

Sexy Beast

Not to suggest that Keith, embracing his inner Full Monty, is providing comic relief here.  Keith in the buff is very hot.  Add the hat, and sweet Jesus . . .  the effect is practically criminal.

Behold, ladies, the eye candy I have provided for you this Valentine’s Day.  You’re welcome.

And let’s get back to that first thought that funny people are just HOT.  Take Keith and Sheri. Either one of them alone makes for a raucous good time, where you feed off the witty energy like a starving person at the buffet, wanting more, insatiable.  Together?  You do not stand a chance to remain in any kind of sour, serious, straight-laced space.  Oh, yeah.  Do not think that this is some Mister Roger’s Neighborhood Comedy Hour.  Sheri and Keith are rated M for mature (or immature?). You will pick your mouth up off the floor.  And BEG for more. 

That’s what I’m saying. It’s smokin’.

There is just so much to be sad about in the world; so many things to be pissed off about – what a gift it is to have people in your life who make you smile.  That is why I am sending out the LOVE today to our funny Valentines – Sheri and Keith!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

I am happy to report that Sheri was feeling good after her treatment this week.  AND . . . next week starts her last cycle!!  Loving that for sure!

Hope you all have a great Valentine’s Day.  Don’t forget  . . .  all you need is love. 

And a few laughs.

~Bess

You Just Might Find . . . You Get What You Need

We don't always get what we want, do we?  There may be a lot in our lives that we would consider less than ideal.  But as those wise life philosophers, The Rolling Stones, reminded us in song, if we just try  . . .  some times we will end up with what we need.

This week Sheri said she missed the ability to enjoy a good beer . . .  but then quickly countered that lament with the observation that Vicodin is a close second.  (Stella could be heard sobbing in the corner).  Cancer seems to impose constant sacrifice -- on levels big and small (or, not critically huge). What comes around the corner may be beyond our control, but we can be empowered in our response. Even just laughing through the "little" setbacks sets the stage for feeling good, and strong.

How amazing Sheri has been throughout this journey, in all the parts that she can control. Hey Cancer, you can take a lot, but you are no match for Sheri's vivaciousness, her humor, her laugh.  You have no idea who you are messing with.

This is the chica who had her treatment this week and then walked on the treadmill and lifted weights.  So fierce!!

I hope that I will have similar reports in the last weeks (!!!) of our treatment updates.

And I hope all of you are happy and well.

~Bess

HUG O' WAR

Do you remember this awesome Shel Silverstein poem?

I will not play at tug o' war
I'd rather play at hug o' war
Where everyone hugs
Instead of tugs
Where everyone giggles 
And rolls on the rug.
Where everyone kisses,
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles,
And everyone wins.

I had always loved the feel-good banter of Silverstein and couldn't wait to share this fun pacifist ditty with my boys when they were young.  I believe we did manage to get through the whole thing (it is pretty pithy) before one grabbed the book from my hand and bashed his brother over the head with it.

So the over-arching message didn't stick.  I guess sometimes the compulsion to fight outweighs the need for affection, especially if your sibling does something totally egregious -  like breathe too loudly or smile while making eye contact.

So much of the talk around cancer is immersed in the language of conflict: "battle," "fight," "challenge," "beat."  For all the reality of the physical fight in which Sheri is engaged, make no mistake -- this war has yielded its share of hugs and other signs of love:

Sheri gets a squeeze from Angie at Sloan-Kettering

Friend Hansie shaves his head for Sheri

Deb and Sheri --  a spoonful of girlfriend makes the medicine go down

This week's update on the treatment front: Sheri had a little trouble with her port this week prior to chemo.  This is fairly common and was resolved easily.  The treatment Tuesday left her feeling a little crappy, but she was feeling better Wednesday.  This week marked cycle 5 . . . coming down to it!!


Friend Tyson (meal organizer extraordinaire) sent maybe the best Hug of War EVER this week, with a nod to the fight couched in the knowledge that laughter is the best medicine of them all:

Amen, sister! 

~Bess

Heartifacts

When a crisis hits, and friends and family rally around, it is fascinating to see what the need has inspired in them. You may learn a lot about the person at the center of the storm by the forms the subsequent support takes.

When I heard Sheri faced this challenge, all I could think of was wanting to make her laugh.  Sheri not only has one of the best laughs in the world, but she constantly makes those around her fall out  -- in the good kind of hysterics that is like a welcome waterfall of happy.  So I got her a couple of the Awkward Family Photos books.  And then, for good measure, I gave her a copy of my own best awkward family photo:  a three-year old me holding my baby brother on our 1973 Christmas card, scrubbed up and fancy and perky and accidentally flipping the bird at the world.  (A sign of things to come, perhaps?)

An awesome token of affection came from Sheri's Aunt Marg, who is also her godmother. She made Sheri a scrapbook and wrote the following poem for her:

Don't you totally get this?  Sheri's tenacious and strong personality has long been appreciated by her friends and family. Now we know she is pulling from those reserves, and if you are like me, you may find yourself focused on those powerful pillars of her being.  

As humans the external (and sometimes difficult) facts of our lives inform (but don't have to overwhelm) the art of who we are on a deeper level.  Wouldn't you agree that both the funny and the fight in Sheri, so apparent post-diagnosis, is all heart?  Hasn't it always been?

I am glad to share that Sheri was feeling pretty good after chemo on Tuesday.  We are moving right along down the chemo calendar; I will keep you posted.

~Bess

Update: Home Again!

I am happy to post that Sheri was discharged from the hospital today!  What a beautiful one it was, too.  Such a great time to be home playing with those boys.

Glad it all worked out in the end.  So to speak.  :)


Sheri has another treatment Tuesday -- I'll keep you posted on how it goes . . .


~Bess

When It Rains

Just last weekend it was 75 degrees and sunny in Charlotte, and if you didn't know better you would swear spring had arrived.  Having grown up here I knew not to break out the flip flops just yet, and this is what we have today:  pouring rain, with a bit of snow predicted for tonight.

So it goes with Sheri -- I was just preparing to post that she had an uneventful treatment Tuesday -- or, in Sheri's words, a "fabulous" treatment.  She said she talked on the phone and watched "Shahs of Sunset" all day.  I was going to title the post BRAVO and toast the healing properties of trashy cable TV networks, and offer to design a research study that Sheri (and all of us so inclined) could participate in, to better understand the benefits of this genius programming on good mood and helpful delusions of superiority.

Unfortunately, there has been a setback -- Sheri was admitted to the hospital last night because of a bowel obstruction, and is being treated with an NG tube and Dilaudid.  She texted that she felt better this morning, so that is good.  In typical Sheri fashion she framed the news humorously-- considering the issue I will leave it to your imagination to ponder exactly what was said.

Hopefully Sheri's issue will be resolved with this treatment.  Wouldn't it be nice if it mimicked the Charlotte "Snow Storm"  on its way and disappeared as quickly as it arrived, leaving no evidence that it ever occurred? 

I will let you know how things go.

~Bess

Unchained Melody

If I met Sheri’s cancer on the street I would spit in its face.  I would go all Quentin Tarantino and the revenge would be epic. We’re talking Samuel L.Jackson and Uma Thurman and Brad Pitt and Jamie Foxx all rolled into one big ball of smack down.  It would beg for mercy but I would not be swayed.  (Souuunnnd guud, inglorious bastard? Yeah, CRAZY good.)

If I passed Sheri’s cancer on the highway I would gun it to about 200 miles an hour, cross over the lines in full traffic and slam on my brakes right in front of that loser.  I would eject out of my sun roof right before the fiery crash, the big C reduced to a million shards of shattering glass and twisted metal just as I land safely at the Dean and Deluca wine bar to buy Sheri a glass of red.  We would toast the amazing sunset that had “somehow” appeared in the distance, the blazing yellows and oranges lighting the sky over the Brookshire Freeway.

If I was sitting next to Sheri’s cancer on an airplane I would notify the undercover Homeland Security officer that there was a known terrorist in seat 11C, and I would help open the twist and toss side doors (as I earlier agreed to do when approached by the diligent flight attendant checking my readiness to assist with the emergency exit aisle.  Lady, I am so ready I am about to burst . . .  you have no idea) and toss that psycho out into the rolling Atlantic, right into a bevy of swirling sharks.  Ooops.  So sorry about that.  NOT!

OK, earth to Bess.  Please back away from the keyboard.  Goodness!

Please don't let my temper tantrum alarm you.  Sheri is doing great -- there is not anything of note to warrant my outburst.  I just had a flash of fury on behalf of my friend, and well, I decided to share it with you.  Maybe you have felt this way, too.

When someone you love has cancer, you may feel powerless as you watch her fight and struggle, and recognize that she must bear such substantial physical and emotional challenges all alone.  When you see someone you care for hurting it can make you really, really mad.

But that energy coursing through your veins may prompt you to focus on trying to help – and maybe you do help, in ways that feel small  . . . but that somehow, all knit together with the efforts of others in your community of concern, grows into a blanket of support that covers the rough spots and offers some comfort.  As it turns out, love can be transformed into something tangible – food at the doorstep, flowers in the yard, cards that bring laughter, words of hope.

When I talked to Sheri earlier this week she felt OK -- and sounded great.   The harsher carbo does make her feel tired and “blah,” but she says it’s still a million times better than the first difficult treatment.  Somehow we got to talking about the positive things that come from cancer – a topic that Sheri introduced to my amazement.  She talked about all the ways that she felt good – maybe better than before.  She talked about her superstar family, how everyone had figured out how this was all going to work:  when someone had to go another relative would come to lend a hand, ensuring that the help was seamless.  She talked about how much she appreciated all of the support from friends: being there for her, helping with food, picking up the kids, checking in.  She said that all of that effort underscoring her fight was an amazing gift – that with all of this, all she had to do was concentrate on getting better. All.  Just battle the cancer part.  Still, I did understand what she was saying. 

Her glad words and infectious laugh inspire me and make me think perhaps that awesome quote from Marianne Williamson just might be true: “A miracle is just a change in perception.”

(Still, if I saw Sheri’s cancer lounging on the sidewalk, I’d squash it flat like a bug.)

~Bess

Dog Days

Ever wonder where you'd end up if you took your dog for a walk and never once pulled back on the leash?  

                                                                               ~Robert Brault

So, here's the thing:  If you are not a "dog person," you might want to stop reading now. I know, I know, you came to the blog for an update about Sheri, and I promise I will get to that.  But I thought today we could begin with a little shout-out to one of Sheri's most favorite friends in the entire world:  her sweet beast, Holly.

And I mean, come on.  What's not to love?

If you don't melt into a puddle when you look at the above picture, with exclamations of tender affection caroling from your mouth, then you are troubled, my friend.  Really, really deficient . . .   oh goodness. Just kidding, of course.  Hey, you're just missing the "dog chip"  . . . and therefore are stunted as a human, but not necessarily a bad person. Or maybe bad but not terrible.  Oops, there I go again! Did that sound judgmental?  So sorry.  Of course you could look at that adorable face and feel absolutely nothing and still be totally fine.  I am almost sure.

There is just nothing like having the unbridled, always enthusiastic, incredibly forgiving affection that dogs inevitably bring to the table (they do LOVE the table, typically.  Don't leave that burger lying around unattended!!).  Want a little unconditional love in your life? Get a pooch.  And the cool part is, as with most things in life, what goes around comes around.  For all the chaos they can bring, their sweet demeanor does improve the overall tone in a place.  An unknown author once said My goal in life is to be as good of a person my dog already thinks I am.  Yes! For sure.

No doubt Holly would have been a constant companion for Sheri in her current fight, regardless of her own circumstances, because that's how these dear creatures roll.  But there is something else that connects these two -- and that is cancer.  Holly has osteosarcoma (scapula) and is on the same treatment regimen as Sheri, receiving carbo every 3 weeks! She is doing better and is back to chewing on Keith's shirts and smiling. I mean, Holly.  Sheri never stopped chewing on Keith's shirts and her smiles have been in abundance over the past months, more so than it might have been fair to expect.  But that is Sheri.

Sheri texted this picture recently (the caption is hers - classic!):

The two cancer bitches watching football!

Those two look FABULOUS!  And Sheri said that after her treatment last Wednesday she was feeling "pretty damn fabulous" [thank you, thank you, thank you! insert prayers of gratitude here]. This week she has the carbo treatment that makes her tired and more nauseated, so that will be tougher.  But Sheri has said that with good drugs, popsicles, and Graeter's ice cream it's all good.  

Maybe Holly will get a little scoop in her bowl, too.



~Bess