Before You Donate
Think very seriously before donating to any breastcancer organization, or fundraising program until you read their Annual Report to see who their top contributors are, and if they have a product that appears frequently in the message the organization sends to the public. That would be unethical and its illegal. The same applies to a request that the public buys products, but does not receive a "donor receipt" for tax-deductible purpose. Read any and all food labels that breastcancer "non-profits" are promoting to raise money. Some organizations tell the public to help them raise money by asking you to visit their websites, but that only gives them "hits" to increase their sponsors.
Another tip, "signing" an online Petition is not acceptable, so don't fall for such antics. An ethical non-profit, or professional will not request your visit to their website, nor use "cookies" placed on your computer when you visit their site.
Purchase the Breastcancer Postage Stamp, the Post Office will always give you your charitable deduction receipt. Its a valid form of fund raising.
SINGLE PARENT ISSUES DURING CRITICAL ILLNESS
One of the most painful aspects of breast cancer was to tell my children. Worse yet, they were trying to be with me and we all lived at least 350 miles apart, one across the nation. I knew they were talking to each other to try and organize their lives to be with me but also determine what times were the most critical, and IF they would know—in time.
I had raised my children with the message, "I am the parent, you are the child, I will take care of you, regardless..." Now I was in the impossible situation of not only receiving their care (parenting), but also accepting it, indeed, needing it. My oncologist was most helpful with this issue. Had he not been fully vested in me as his patient and concerned about my family and friends as my caretakers I don't think I could have let anyone know what was going on or at least not immediately. It all happened so quickly—yet, so slowly.
For three years I suspected I had breast cancer and could not get a diagnosis but when I finally did insist on a second reading of my mammogram the world spun on its axis, yet my life slowed to a halt because no one knew how to treat what I had, although thousands of women had been discharged without knowing they had invasive breast cancer prior to my case. Even in that situation I was the parent─I was caring for myself and had to insist that everything be done that could be done to diagnose the horrible killer. At the same time, one of my overriding thoughts was to spare my loved ones, because I knew it had been growing longer, and I couldn't bear putting others through trials, and/or final days—there was a black cloud over me, for the first time in years.
Many times I did not want to tell my children how I felt nor what was happening during their times away from me, which was overall the majority of time. Friends were with me and came before each chemo session to spend my only good two days out of 20 with me, every time. One special friend flew over 1400 miles to spend two weeks with me after my first chemo infusion even though she had never been exposed to a cancer patient in her life before (she ended up doing tons of reading, and virtually scarfing every thing my oncologist gave us to read).
But, my children? There were so many times I needed them, and so many times I went through such unbelievable hours alone, but I could not ask them for help.
One day my oncologist told me something that someone else told me that very same day: "You have to let them help you because then you are giving to them by giving them the opportunity to help, and so you aren't only receiving, you are giving, too."
I know that they still do not know all that I went through, nor could they because I didn't tell them, nor did I ask them to be with me. It wasn't until 2004 that a doctor told me that I had to lose my "Type A" personality if I was going to live—"That is the paradox, what you did to save your life as a child will be your downfall now unless you 1) learn to accept help when its offered even if you don't need it, and 2) ask for help when you need it. I don't think you will be able to do it."
That was the Director of the Post Polio Institute who is my Post-Polio Syndrome consultant. I traveled to the East Coast to find out how to survive this recurrence of paralysis, and pain from a disease I had as a child. Have I done it? To the best of my ability since April, 2004─but I "hear" him every time I get close to my old ways or indeed, the one time I did just that, I heard him loud and clear for days and could have kicked myself.
Perhaps it's best to approach this is: What helped me the most.
reviewed 12/14/2006