Words in the Wild

Words in the Wild: Headline News

The other day, Tom was reading The Week magazine, when he pointed out this page . . . and its dream-come-true headlines:

IMG_4879

Yeah.

Look again.

Rethinking fat and cholesterol

Meditation delays aging

Coffee may cut cancer risk

Drink wine, burn fat*

Smoking damages the brain

Really. 

All on one page.

News doesn't get much better than that!

(Read all about it!)

==========

* Personal Favorite


Little Bit of Truth

I'm just getting over a rather nasty flu-ish bug (that hung on for far too long).  I've used more than a few throat lozenges since the beginning of the year.  (Like . . . they're in every coat pocket.  And in my purse.  And gym bag.  And in the cup holder in my car.  You know.)

It wasn't until just yesterday, though, that I took a closer look at the wrapper.

IMG_4632

 

What do you know . . . A pep talk in every drop!

Nothing you can't handle.  (A little bit of truth . . . on a throat lozenge wrapper.)

 


Words . . . with Impact

IMG_4017

First, two facts:

  1. Yesterday was the 6th anniversary of my first chemo treatment.
  2. I am struggling with a big decision I need to make; one that involves priorities and decisions about how I want to live my life; one that isn't easy for me.

Next, the backstory:

Last March, I received an email from Dana, a blog-reader.  She let me know how much my story meant to her.  She told me that she wanted me to understand the "the impact your blog and willingness to share your experiences has made on a stranger's life."  She also told me that she was embarking on her first chemo treatment the next day.

We began a correspondence.

Now, to yesterday:

Yesterday was a rather difficult day for me.  Like I mentioned above, I am struggling with a decision.  In my heart, I know what I'm going to do, but I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do it yet. (And that's the hardest part.)  And, in my head, I kept circling back to starting chemo six years ago . . . and how cancer changed my way of thinking about the world and my place in it . . . and how, now, I'd slid back to the "before" . . . losing sight of my own priorities and getting swept up in the drama around me.

And then, before I went to bed, I opened my email.

And there it was.

An email from Dana's husband.  He wanted to let me know that Dana had passed away in late August. He said the chemotherapy was just never effective in stopping the advance of her cancer.  He wanted me to know that I "had made a difference in Dana's life and helped her from a distance at a time she needed it most."

I came undone.

It is overwhelming ... the power of words.

I can't help but think that, on that particular day at that particular time, his words were the words I needed most.  It was like Dana was reaching out and reminding me, "Girl. Where are your priorities? You don't have forever."

Words. . . with impact.