In December 2005 my mom was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. I can remember the day as if it was yesterday. My mom called to let me know that she was going to get her test results back later on that day. About five hours passed and I decided to call her on my way home from a Christmas party. Then it happened, the worst word you could ever hear came across the line. It’s CANCER! At that moment I didn’t know what to do but to throw my phone on the floor. My husband, then boyfriend, said to me “don’t let her feel that you’re upset.” I called back. She guaranteed me that everything would be okay, just as a mother would. She was determined to beat it.

In a game against Arizona

At the beginning of January she was scheduled for her first surgery to remove her tumor. That was supposed to be the end of her cancer. She was nervous but also secure in that her faith would carry her through this surgery. For this was her first surgery ever at age 65. She went through surgery just fine and afterwards she was up walking pushing the limits determined to get out of the hospital as fast as she could. That’s when I noticed her tenacity, strength, and determination. From that point on she exercised to stay cancer free and she was determined not to let the return of cancer get her down. She fought every single day for the rest of her life fighting cancer.

Andrea in action with her GYRIG stickers

In 2008, my dad, mom, nephew, my husband, and I went to the track to walk. That’s when I noticed her body was starting to deteriorate. She was only able to walk one lap at a slow pace. Now mind you, my mom could lap me while she was walking and I was running. This was sad to me but also heroic to me as well. Even though her body was failing she still wanted to exercise. With pneumonia taking her down and doctors saying it was time for hospice my mom still fought on. She gave the ultimate best Christmas Church Service ever as if the cancer disappeared for a day. She hadn’t played the piano since she began chemotherapy. She played on that day and night before as if she knew deep down inside that would be her last time. Through all of this she gave me the determination to never give up, never succumb to anything when you have something to live for because you never know when your fight might lead you to an eternity of happiness.

Winning the World Gold Medal

When my mom passed in 2009 I began the fight for awareness of colon cancer and the determination to become healthy and fit. That is when I found the Get Your Rear in Gear website. I wanted to do something for them but my money and time wouldn’t allow me to give as I would like. I decided to train again for the USA women’s wheelchair basketball team which I hadn’t competed with since 2006. I dedicated my three year term to my mom. Everything on my chair represents GYRIG. My tires are blue, my casters are blue (when I can find them) and of course a sticker or two of Get Your Rear in Gear. My mom was all about exercise at 4:30am and now I am the same way, 4:30am wake up to train. This year will mark my 3rd year with the USA team which will close out my career and hopefully lead to more people being aware of colon cancer and the organization that represents it. Even though I will not be able to wear my stickers on my chair, the blue tires and hopefully blue casters will be represented as my symbol to GYRIG. Until then my chair is dedicated to all of those who have survived, passed away, and for loved ones of those with colon cancer. Three years in and going strong, GYRIG!

Randy Lopez Testimonial for Block Center Integrative Treatment Center

An ice cream cone was my tipping point.

At that time I was living in Florida and concerned with a new job and dealing with a recent relocation from our home in southern California.  My wife and our two daughters were at “Twistee Treat” and having a nice weekend day together when I decided to turn a shade of green.  At 34, my doctor had explained earlier that I had an internal hemorrhoid and that symptoms would come and go.  This was before the “Couric effect” and I wasn’t aware of colon cancer and its symptoms.

The following day I began my formal introduction into a whirlwind of doctor visits, scans, colonoscopies, surgery and chemo to combat what was determined to be Stage 3 Colon Cancer.  My wife, Beatrice and my daughters, Caitlin and Natalie became my team along with my incredible in-laws and parents.  Less than a year after finishing chemo, a metastasize was found in my liver and I began another battle with my Stage 4 status: liver resection and another bout of chemo.

In the 13+ years since diagnosis, I’ve learned so much about how to deal with cancer physically and emotionally.  My wife and I changed my diet, I’ve tried to laugh more, and everyone who knows me or meets me gets a few stories of my “cancer story”.  I’ve been fortunate to be able to tell my story at various conferences, events, and was even featured in CNN’s “Surviving Cancer with Dr. Gupta and Lance Armstrong” a few years ago.   As a member of the Colon Cancer Alliance, I acted as spokesperson with Olympic gold medalist Dara Torres.  And as a personal high point in my life, I had the opportunity to meet Mel Brooks and thank him for being part of my healing process by giving me laughs when I was listening to his “2000 year-old Man” recordings during chemo.

In the years since being first diagnosed, my wife and I have seen the medical community begin to understand the treatment of the whole person including diet, attitude, and including traditional and non-traditional means of treatment.  I continue sourcing new treatments and leaders in the cancer battle to pass on information to others and to keep an eye out in case it comes back again.

Personally, I speak to cancer patients all the time but my major focus is speaking to those that should be screened for cancer due to a family history or have symptoms.  These are the people that Get Your Rear in Gear supports.  And my personal mission is the same – To ensure that all citizens have adequate information and access to screening for colon cancer.

Please join me in supporting the Colon Cancer Coalition and Get Your Rear in Gear and I look forward to telling more of my story in the future.  Feel free to contact me on Twitter @randylopez and @stage4survivor.

Let’s get the word out about screening and education.
Don’t wait for an ice cream cone to change your life.

Want to see more on Randy?  Click on these links below:

He as also been chosen as “Mr. March” for the 2012 Colondar, created and sold by GYRIG partner, The Colon Club. (Sidebar: We have to take some undeserved credit for Roger being chosen, after all we’ve known he was the model type for a long time, as he has been featured on our Facebook profile picture several times in the past year-or-so.)

An article by Mike Baird of the Corpus Christi Caller-Times recently featured Roger’s story about overcoming a cancer diagnosis with a healthy lifestyle, and proudly sharing his involvement with Get Your Rear in Gear. Read his story, then head over the The Colon Club to order your Colondar.

“My son told me that cancer changed my life,” Rojas said. “And he’s right, but not in the way some people might think. It made me stop and look at my life, and now I live a better life than I was living.”

- Roger Rojas, as told to Mike Baird, of the Corpus Christi Caller-Times

Photo by Michael Zamora, Corpus Christi Caller-Times

Read the story en Espanol.

Photo by Carly Bish, of Carly Bish Photography - CarlyBish.com

Team Kickin’ the Stick out of Colon Cancer created in honor  of Katie Tinnea was featured in the Newcastle News in advance of the Seattle Area Get Your Rear in Gear race.  The Seattle Area event is being held Sunday, November 6 at Brooks Sports, Inc in Bothell, WA.

Read this inspiring story of Mrs. Tinnea, a first grade teacher at Newcastle Elementary School and why she has chosen to continue teaching through her treatment.

UPDATE (Nov. 9, 2011): The reporter, Christina Lords, who first wrote Katie Tinnea’s story wrote a nice follow-up and relection of her thoughts upon meeting and interviewing this inspiring women.

Every time I find myself feeling down about a situation or problem, I think about Katie’s optimism and the power of positive thought. Her smile is infectious; her outlook on life is nothing short of remarkable.

She’s a woman not only dealing with the everyday stresses of being a teacher, a mother, a wife — things we all face — but she’s a woman living a life full of joy, hope and faith in defiance of a disease with no cure.

All she wants out of life is life itself.

That’s a lesson we can all learn.

- From “Off the Press – Life Lessons Taught by Tinnea” by Christina Lords, Issaquah Press, November 8, 2011

Back when we created our “Stories” section of the website, we weren’t sure how we would get warriors to tell their story.   We ended up writing a couple stories through interviews, but eventually Trish Lannon jumped on board and wrote her story for Get Your Rear in Gear.  It ignited others to follow in writing their stories.

When I heard Trish was going to be down on her favorite team’s field on national television in pink, I asked her to share her journey and what it felt like to be on that field.  There is a common thread between breast and colon cancer linked as the soft tissue cancers.  It’s hard enough to get one of these cancers, but imagine what it feels like to have both.

The Crucial Catch

By Trish Lannon

Dx Stage 3C Colon Cancer in March 2007/Dx DCIS Stage 0 Grade 3 Breast Cancer in April 2009

Trish pledges to the flag and cancer

Currently NED
Pink. I am not a big fan of pink. I never had a pink room or a pink phone – and when I had my daughters, I never decorated their rooms in pink or dressed them head to toe in pink. I would often find myself quite annoyed that the world was covered in pink – especially during the month of  October. My yogurt, my daughter’s tennis racket, even the fire starter sticks we use in our fireplace were covered in pink or pink ribbons. What about all the other cancers? What about colon cancer?! Where is all the blue? After being diagnosed with Stage 3C colon cancer when I was 39 years old, I wanted the world to be covered in blue – I wanted to share my story with anyone who would listen so they and their families would never have to go through what I went through. What my family went through. Two years after my colon cancer diagnosis, I would find myself surrounded by the color pink.

On April 14th, 2009, I got the call I was not expecting at all. A biopsy that had to be done on my left breast four days earlier had come back positive for breast cancer – specifically DCIS stage 0 grade 3. I had been NED (no evidence of disease) for 16 months when I got the call that I had breast cancer. I was told it was not my colon cancer coming back and spreading, but a totally separate primary cancer.

On the field

Due to the number of areas in my left breast that had linear calcifications, my surgeon told me I would have to have a mastectomy of my left breast. I then met with my oncologist who laid out all of the statistics for me, which led me to make the decision to have a double mastectomy. I did not want to find myself in this situation again 5 or 10 years from now.

On May 15th, 2009, I had a double mastectomy and began the reconstruction process. Since I was stage 0 and my sentinel nodes came back clean, I did not need chemo. When I woke up in the recovery room, a woman I did not know from some sort of breast cancer support group associated with the hospital was standing over me. She reached down and touched my arm and told me they were there to support me all the way through breast cancer. She then handed me a pink duffle bag filled with everything pink – pink water bottle, pink blanket, pink jewelry, pink hat, pink shirt, and more. I could not embrace the pink! Imagine my surprise when I was invited by a local breast cancer awareness organization, The Tyanna Foundation, to participate in the Baltimore Ravens kickoff of their breast cancer awareness month activities, “The Crucial Catch.” I am a HUGE Ravens fan and have had season tickets for several years now. The chance to be on the field during a game was intoxicating.

Trish in a close up shot with other warriors on the field

I joined about 30 other survivors who were given special T-Shirts to wear and given brief instructions about what to do once on the field. The game was going to be nationally televised and they were having country music singer, Martina McBride, sing the national anthem. We were going to be standing on either side of Martina while she sang. Fans were given pink ribbons as they entered the stadium and special cards were placed in the seats on the visitor’s side that spelled out “A Crucial Catch” and displayed pink ribbons when the fans would hold them up together.

While the Ravens Marching Band was on the field, we were escorted out the very same entryway the Ravens players run out when they are being introduced. Once I got through the tunnel and onto the field, my entire body was covered in goose bumps. There were over 70,000 football fans in the stadium, staff from both teams on the sidelines, and television cameras everywhere.

Photographers were following all of us around the sidelines taking pictures.  We were taken around the whole field and to the Ravens sideline where we got a close-up view of the team introductions.  It was the most amazing feeling to be on the field and hear everyone cheering and see the players up close.  Once the players were on the sideline we were shuffled out to the field to take  our positions.

When the announcements began, I turned to look over at the visitor’s side and was amazed by the powerful message being held up by the fans.  It was probably the first time that seeing things covered in pink didn’t bother me.  I suddenly became very emotional listening to everyone cheering us on for being survivors – even the players were cheering for us.  When Martina McBride started singing the National Anthem, I found myself singing along with her as loud as I could.  It was all over so quickly and they rushed us off the field so the game could begin.  As we all headed back into the tunnel, fans on both sides cheered us on – we all felt very special that night.  As I stood in the tunnel at Ravens Stadium, in the same place where future Hall of Fame football players have stood, I turned and took one last look at a stadium filled with pink.

Two cancers in two years.  Two.  What are the odds? I speak out about colon cancer almost daily to whomever will listen and now I have begun to encourage everyone to get a mammogram and not put it off.  My mammogram saved my life and it was my first one!   I am also learning to embrace pink.  I still don’t love that it is everywhere and on everything, but I have come to realize that as passionate as I am about advocating for colon cancer awareness, I have room to advocate for breast cancer awareness.  Heck, I even bought a pair of hot pink high heeled shoes!

Trish gives her thumbs up tto pink

Cancer Had It’s Hooks in Me

I feel like I’ve been through a war this year.  I’ve been beaten down, broken, but never out of the fight.  In fact, I’m rising out of the ashes, I’m pissed, and I’m coming out swinging!

I’m David McCluskey, and I’m a cancer survivor.  Those from my hometown in Grinnell, IA, know me as David Dimit, which is confusing for some, but it need not be.  Think of it this way, I have the dual honor of carrying on my grandparent’s last name, (Wayne, who died of Lung Cancer in 1998, and Phyllis McCluskey, who died of Emphysema in 1993), and appreciate the love, adoption, and acceptance of the entire Dimit family, not just once in my life, but twice.  If you still find this confusing, get over it, I could never be more blessed.

How did you know?

The first question I always get is, “How did you know?”  I didn’t.  But, I did listen to my body telling me something wasn’t right.  I was at a trade show in Las Vegas in October of 2006, when I noticed a little bit of blood in my stools, not much, but it concerned me a little, blood is blood, right?

When I started paying attention, I realized that I had been experiencing some irregularity, (constipation and diarrhea essentially), but didn’t think much of it.  I am in outside sales, so I travel a lot, didn’t eat right, didn’t exercise, drank a little, and was a smoker.  So, what do you do?  Mix in a little Raisin Bran, try to stop smoking, and go make that next sale.  I had to keep moving, I have a family to help support.

Someone Saved My Life

But, things persisted.  I finally decided on New Year’s Eve that  to go see my doctor, Jeffrey Schoon, DO.  I guess I was just tired of feeling tired, and something just wasn’t right.  After meeting with Dr. Schoon, we were both pretty confident there was nothing to be concerned about, “You’re pretty young,” he said, “Probably just a hemorrhoid, but why don’t we schedule a colonoscopy, just to be sure?”  I agreed, and we scheduled it for February 15th, 2007.  Dr. Schoon saved my life that day.

February 15th, 2007, is the day that changed my life forever.  It is the day of my colonoscopy and cancer diagnosis, (Jeffrey Stahl, MD),  and my world was turned upside down.  It was a whirlwind day, quite a blur actually.  I remember waking up from my colonoscopy, with my wife, her dad and mom, (Bob &  Nonie Doty), and sister, (Carla Reindel), looking at me with the most concerned, red, puffy eyes.  Not a good sign that all is well.

Family is the Foundation

My beautiful wife, Winonah, broke the news to me that I had cancer.  I’m so glad that I heard it from her.  I know she was shaken to the core, but she was so strong and reassuring.  Quite honestly, she is the strongest person I know.  She gets it from her family.  The strength of the Doty Family is unbelievable.  We started to cope immediately as we were off to see Sue Beckwith, MD, for a surgical consultation.

Winonah and Bob took me to see Dr. Beckwith, who specializes in Colorectal Surgery.  Again, a whirlwind and a blur, and the next thing we know I’m scheduled for surgery the next day.  Our thought, “Let’s get this thing out of me, NOW!!!”  Certainly a quick decision, but in retrospect, I’m glad we just pulled the trigger.  No better time than the present to take a step forward.

My brother, Greg, arrived early the morning of my surgery, He drove straight through the night from Chicago to be by my side.  There is nothing I can say that could possibly relay how important Greg is in my life.  He is a rock, and I would be lost without him.  The love and support of his wife, Chris, the Dimit, Doty, Reindel, Solik, Cantrell, and entire Saracco Family has been overwhelming.  My brother and I have been blessed with great family and friends.  Thank you to everyone for your support!!!!

Now the Fun Begins

I really don’t know how to describe what the following 9 months brought me.  The colon resection surgery, (Sue Beckwith, MD), was off the pain scale, followed by chemotherapy & radiation, (John Martens, MD), genetic testing, (Pati Berger, RN), a hernia repair, (Mike Mohan, MD), and more chemotherapy, (Robert Behrens, MD).  If there is a side affect, I think I’ve had it.  We are finished with the chemotherapy, and ready to get on with our lives after treatment.  It was very difficult, to say the least, but is now a distant memory.

My entire medical team has been unbelievable!  I can’t begin to thank everyone who has been involved with my health care.  Our very dear friend Denise Albert, (Registered Dietician, University of Iowa) saved my life with her advice.  I was withering away to nothing, until she got involved with my care and turned things around.  She is so talented, and a great friend.  Valerie Ripperger, (massage therapist) helped me get on the road to recovery physically.  She is a healer, and was a good friend with an attentive ear.  Everyone at Mercy Therapeutic Radiology Associates, Medical Oncology and Hematology Associates, (especially Ramona!), Iowa Methodist Medical Center, and Mercy Medical Center in Des Moines has been a truly committed team.  Thank you for all you do!

New Friends and “The Rally”

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention a special couple who came into our lives since our diagnosis, and really made a difference during this difficult time, Don and Jennifer Slagle.  Don and I have become good friends, and I would have felt so alone without him.  It was amazing to share such a difficult journey with him.  I feel like we will always have a special connection.  I wouldn’t wish this experience on anyone, but being able to share it with someone like Don was truly a blessing.

A special thank you to Carol Frazell.  Carol was an angel of light walking into our lives during a very dark time.  Thank you so much, Carol, you truly made a difference in our lives, and I know many others.  One last thank you to Kim Johnson for organizing the Rally Against Cancer.  We wouldn’t have Carol without Kim.  What a wonderful world we live in.  We are looking forward to giving back!

I can’t even begin to tell you how much my wife, Winonah, has meant to me throughout this very difficult time.  She has been my foundation, and is my strength.  There is no way, I mean NO WAY, I could’ve made it without her.  She is the light of my life, and I will honor and love her all the days of my life.

We are moving forward, and getting stronger every day.

Coping with Skin Rash
October 19, 2011
8 – 9:30 PM Eastern time

Certain drugs that treat colorectal cancer can cause painful rashes, dry skin and nail problems. These side effects are unpleasant, can hurt and are often embarrassing. The good news is that there are things patients can do to reduce the severity of these side effects. This patient webinar that will discuss the prevention and management of skin toxicities related to EGFR inhibitors (epidermal growth factor receptor).

You will learn:
- What causes the rash
- What the rash may mean about treatment, and
- Get tips on how to alleviate some of the symptoms.

For more information or to register go here.

What to Do When Your Doc is Out of 5-FU (or Leucovorin…or Irinotecan)
November 16, 2011
8 – 9:30 PM Eastern time

The United States is facing a major drug shortage crisis, specifically in colorectal cancer, there are shortages of 5-FU, leucovorin and irinotecan.
Patients are scared and bewildered when told by their health care providers that the drugs that are helping them fight their disease are no longer available or are in frighteningly low supply. Join a discussion with Dr. Lindsey Poppe, the Pharmacy Clinical Manager for Oncology for the University of North Carolina hospital system. She will talk about the alternatives and options that patients have when directly faced with this situation.
For more information or to register go here.

The Best of Eastern and Western Medicine
December 14, 2011
8 – 9:30 PM Eastern time

After a cancer diagnosis, many are told by well-meaning friends to eat this, consume that, take this herb, and try this yoga class in an effort to treat the disease.
The fact of the matter is some of those practices work, but sadly, many of them do not. And when it comes to alternative medicines, often it is not just a case of something not working; it can actually be dangerous to your health.

Integrative medicine (also called complementary and alternative medicine – or CAM) combines non-traditional practices and healthful behaviors while undergoing conventional therapy. It is, in the words of one practitioner, “the best of eastern and western medicine.”

But how can patients tell the difference between the good and the bad?

For more information or to register go here.

View past patient webinars hosted by Fight Colorectal Cancer here. All webinars are free for unlimited viewing.

My husband, three elementary school children and I were living in Glenview, Illinois (a north-western suburb of Chicago).  On the morning of 9/11, after having sent my children off to school, I was on the phone with a dear friend, Ellen, in Charleston, West Virginia.  We were discussing when I was going to come help her with her twin eight month babies after her colon cancer diagnosis the previous March.

As the two of us were looking at the television at the same time in different cities, we said to each other “what just happened?”  My husband, a sales executive for the Associated Press, comes running down the stairs.  He needed to get to the airport to get out to wherever he was going for his job selling EPNS to news directors in the Midwest. I hung up with my friend Ellen and my husband flew out the door to O’Hare.

I had plans for a bike ride to the Botanical Gardens with another friend that beautiful blue sky day.  When that friend and I arrived at the Botanical Gardens, we learned about the Pentagon and the plan in Pennsylvania.  We cut our ride short and turned around for home wondering about the kids and the school.  We thought we should be closer to home in case we needed to pick up our children.

When we arrived home from the bike ride, we found out the kids were on lock-down in the school and would not be allowed for recess.  The city of Chicago was being considered potentially the second city for which the plane in Pennsylvania was headed to hit the Sears Tower.  The downtown was being evacuated on foot and by load-and-go-trains headed out of the city.

My husband had returned after lunch from being turned away at O’Hare and was watching the TV with the eyes of a news producer.  Three channels all running coverage of the same event in three differing sizes, 46 inch, 36 in and 19 inch took over the house.  As I went to get the kids, I told him he had to go upstairs to watch one TV and the event of the days could not be on around the kids.  We were all pretty much in shock as I strolled down the street to my friend Mary’s house.  My neighbor’s husband arrived home late in the afternoon.  All of us enjoyed dinner together.  My kids still remember hanging out with our neighbors and how much fun they had during the coming weeks.

My neighbor’s husband played golf the next day.  My husband called the Associated Press desk and offered his help in covering the disaster.  He was thanked and told to hang tight since no one could get in or out of the Mercantile Exchange.  His office was on the 22nd floor.  As the days progressed he talked with co-workers who needed to report to the building.  The lines were hours long to get through tight security.  People were donning parachutes in case needed to jump in the event of a second disaster.  Bart was a road warrior so he could work from home.

When the planes started to fly again, Bart was on the first plane to Fargo, North Dakota.  He came through our home town of St Paul, Minnesota and said the only people flying were WWII veterans; they would not allow our country’s freedom to be feared by such an event.  He arrived in Fargo and we lost communication.  I was unable to reach him.  Something was wrong with the network.  I couldn’t call him. I was very afraid and called my oldest brother and said “Joe, if anything happens to Bart will you come and help me?”  He said, “Yes, of course.”  Years later, I wondered if this was a premonition of what was to happen over the course of four more years.

Bart finally was able to call me back from a land-line phone when he reached Duluth.  He was called out to the field by the Associated Press and told to report immediately to his headquarters.  He had to get a flight out of Duluth, transferred through Minneapolis/St. Paul and eventually was on to Chicago.

For the next twelve weeks, Bart worked out of the house. Our daughter suffered from anxiety from the event – especially the time-frame where I could not reach her dad .  She did not know if her Dad had made it on a plane and the school would not allow her to call home.  This experience resulted in her having subsequent therapy.  Bart’s mother was diagnosed with cancer around Christmas.  Shortly after his mother’s diagnosis, dealing with Kelsey’s anxiety and our family’s general unhappiness, Bart decided we needed to upright the ship and move back home to Minnesota.

We paid for the move and we were happy the Associated Press allowed for us to move home.  The impact would be that Bart would be out in the field one more day a week and there would be increased travel expenses.  We were home and situated by June 20, 2002.

As I look back and remember, I don’t know when I first realized he was sick.  I remember him being crabby for Eric’s First Communion, April 16, 2004.  I remember him waking up and the whites of his eyes being yellow, but as the morning passed that would resolve itself from my view.

We would go out on the boat and ride around the lake the summer of 2004 and Bart would be so crabby.  Around the 4th of July, he was to bring the boat across the lake to a picnic with his family.  He was usually really careful with the boat.  He showed up at the picnic with my 8-year-old son with rope burns around his neck, arms and legs.  Bart had forgotten to tie down the loose rope and inter-tube.  As he sped off in the boat, the inter-tube flew off and the rope got tangled around my son’s neck.  Bart brought my son to me and visibly both were extremely shaken from the experience.  I look back on that now and know Bart was just not right.  I had chalked it up to his mother being terminal and at the end with cancer.  She died in September of 2004.

In the fall, after mowing the lawn he would come in and complain about his lower back pain.  He had unexplained weight gain, so he signed up for a 12 week program at Lifetime Fitness.  He and our daughter devised a plan for his diet.  He decided he would eat three bowls of Cheerios a day.  Kelsey can still remember joking and laughing about the flyer they were going to make as a book marker for people who were trying to lose weight.

We were busy with three kids, their activities, work and family.  December 3rd 2004, Bart returned from a trip to Madison, Wisconsin. He met me at the Caribou in Stillwater, Minnesota in time for us to attend our son’s hockey game.  His shoulder hurt really badly as he sat down next to me.  We attended the game and then returned home to our two other children.  Not soon after I had poured a glass of wine, did Bart come running down the stairs to say he had something really wrong and had to be brought to the hospital.  I put my wine in the refrigerator and drove him to the closest trauma one hospital.  He had a history of high blood pressure so we were not sure what it really was at the time.  I had minor children at home so I dropped him off at the emergency room.  I went home and went to bed.

I woke up at 3:00am and he had not called yet.  So I called down to the hospital and was told he was going in for a second c-scan.  I decided since it was the middle of the night, I  could run down to check on him and be back before my kids needed to get up for school.

When I arrived at the hospital, Bart said “they think it is cancer”.  I left and went home to get my children off to school and return to the hospital for an ultrasound at 8:30am.  The ultrasound proved the liver was heavily involved resulting in him being admitted, prepped and scheduled for a colonoscopy.  The doctors could not complete the colonoscopy because of the blockage.  Since he was prepped,  he was scheduled for a colon resection at 10am the next morning.

The results of the pathology were read on the following Tuesday.  He had stage four colon cancer and three months to live without treatment.  The doctor told me that he might not survive long enough to receive treatment.  He began treatment in January of 2005.  He was experiencing blood clots and his surgery recovery was difficult.  He made it through 18 months of treatment and died in June of 2006.

As for my friend, Ellen, that I was on the phone with when the planes went into the tower? She died too in October of 2006, of colon cancer, just four months almost to the day after Bart.  Her surviving spouse and I have wondered if it was the tap water in the community our families had resided in from 1996-1999.  There was similar diagnosis and length of illness. Maybe just bad luck brought us together as a support system for one another…we understood each other.

I have been the sole provider for three children for the last five years.  As I look back at Sept 11, 2001, I could not have thought the result post- tragedy would bring to our lives.  When I look back and think about Bart’s decision to move home I wonder if he knew he was sick.  Maybe he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what was wrong.  He just knew he needed to get his family home.

We are surviving; the kids are doing really well.  Two of them are now in college and one is a sophomore in high school. I have a wonderful partner, single parent supporter, adviser, and favorite uncle to my children.  We have had many ups and downs over the last five years.  My focus has been on my children’s success and successful they are.  I have had difficulty working and taking care of the kids to secure healthcare insurance for my family.  I have been unemployed for one year.  I am somewhat the face of what the economy has come to in the last ten years.  It has been very difficult and discouraging at times.  I believe God has a plan for our future and prosperity.

I can imagine how the survivors of Pearl Harbor felt.  In 1944, my father went to war in the Pacific.  He was 28 years old and entered the Navy as an officer.  He had two small children, and his wife had just been released from a two-year stay at Miller Hospital for tuberculosis.  He returned from the war and grew a thriving sand and gravel business.  In 1968, his wife died of breast cancer leaving him with six children.  I can relate to how he felt as single father left to care for his children and maintain his career.

I wonder what Obama is going to say this week to create the kind of industrial revolution Pearl Harbor ignited in America over the subsequent 60 years.  September 11, 2011 has not been the economic boom history would tell us from past disasters.  It is my hope that Obama really does have a plan, because I need a job for my kid’s future as well as their healthcare.  As I know from experience, and my father’s experience with disasters, I beg the question, “is it fair to assume that Obama really even knows what he is talking about?”  My father would say to me, “yes, we had some dark days, but we always tried to remember the good things.”  I think these are some dark days.

Leah documents her life as a single mother of three.  While she searches for a job, she volunteers regularly for non-profit, including Get Your Rear in Gear. The views of this article are from the Leah Shiely Swanson and not from Get Your Rear in Gear.

As part of our “Why I Get My Rear in Gear” series we caught up with avid runner and writer, David Goodman, to find out what running and colon cancer means to him and how he’s helping to raise awareness.

Get Your Rear in Gear marathoner, David Goodman, running in the 2010 ING New York City Marathon

Get Your Rear in Gear: When did you start running?
David Goodman: My dad loved to run.  As I was growing up, I would always see him go for jogs.  In high school, I would join him on those runs, and I began to run in local races on Long Island.  In later life, my dad contracted multiple sclerosis and could no longer run. But when he would see me, he would always ask: “What are you doing for exercise?”  It was as if he wanted me to continue with the exercise he could no longer do.  Thanks to him, running has always been part of my routine.

If I’ve had my fix of being outside and breathing hard, everything in life goes much better.

GYRIG: With a background as a writer, where does running fit in? Is it an escape?
GOODMAN: Writing requires me to concentrate and shut out distractions.  That’s often difficult to do, with the phone ringing and emails coming and going.  When I run, there is just me and the rhythm of my feet hitting the ground.  Running clears my mind and enables me to focus.  Another reason I run is just to be outside.  I’ve never joined a gym — I would much rather be running along dirt roads admiring the scenery and breathing the air.  If I’ve had my fix of being outside and breathing hard, everything in life goes much better.

GYRIG: How did running help you when your mom developed cancer?
GOODMAN: My mom, Dorrie Goodman, learned that she had cancer in late August 2009.  She was a very vigorous and young-at-heart 79 year old woman, and had been busy traveling the world, taking adult ed courses, visiting her kids and grandkids, and was active in her community. She had never experienced being seriously ill.  She told me that her diagnosis (she was initially told she had ovarian cancer) “knocked me off my feet.” She entered Mt. Sinai Hospital in New York City in early September for what she thought was a few days of tests; she died there a month later.  The doctors had been unable to pinpoint the source of her aggressive cancer while she was there.  We only learned after her death that she had advanced colon cancer.

During the month that I and my siblings spent alongside my mother in the hospital, time stood still.  I would barely notice that day turned to night and back into day.  It was intense, exhausting and very moving to be there with her and for her. After the first week in the hospital, I began trying to take a daily run in Central Park, which was across the street.  When I would leave Mt. Sinai and enter the park, I felt as if I was emerging from underground.  Suddenly there was light, noise, kids running around and people going about their normal routines.  That was comforting.  Running was not easy for me — I was shocked at how little energy I had to do anything besides tend to my mom — but I would just will myself to put one foot in front of the other and keep going, just as my mom was struggling to do.  Somehow, that daily trot outside recharged me so that I could keep going and be there for my mom.  When I would return, she would always ask how my run was. I would fill her in on the goings on in the outside world, so that she felt she was alongside me.  She was too sick to go outside at that point, so it was my way of taking her for a walk in the park.

In part two of our interview we’ll talk to David about training for a marathon and the next steps on his journey to raise awareness for colon cancer.

Are you ready to get your rear in gear to prevent colon cancer? Get started by setting up a fundraising page, then send us an email and let us know what you are up to.

Read our previous stories with David Goodman here and here.

Interview by Amy Wenzel, Get Your Rear in Gear Communications Intern

Read more about Grete.

Grete Waitz - AP File Photo from Nov. 3, 1994

“Grete has always personally moved me. Her cancer was breast cancer. The story that some people may or may not know is that previous to her first NYC marathon, she was a world class 5,000 meter runner…quite a bit different than 26.2 miles.  She simply ran the marathon and was surprised at people cheering for her as she was nearing the final stretch of the the NYC marathon. It was only then, that she realized she was the female top finisher. Know that even the best athletes can be surprised by pushing the button. You be the best at what you do, but expect the unexpected.