I'm not quite sure what's more awesome: that I've made it one full year past the end of my slog through cancer treatment. Or that this milestone almost slipped me by.
A year ago, cancer loomed so large in my life, I could scarcely imagine what it would be like to last a day, or even an hour, without thinking about it ... for it not to be the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing at night.
I don't check Facebook very often these days (helps keep my stress levels about batshit crazy politics in check), but I gave it a peek after my 6 a.m. yoga class and there it was: a reminder of my last radiation treatment.
Well, how about that?
A few hours later, a text from Sean flashed on my phone about KEXP's daylong Music Heals tribute to cancer fighters in the radio station's community. From all over the world, listeners shared stories of survival and loss, always with deep gratitude for the power music holds to soothe the soul, especially during dark times when all seems lost.
Driving to a work meeting, my eyes welled up at the story of a young woman's aunt, who never moaned or groaned during her five grueling years of treatment. She enjoyed her days as best she could. She lived her life, even as she knew her days were numbered. She loved Michael Franti, so at her niece's request, the DJs played "Say Hey (I Love You)."
When I got home, I shared my own story in an email to DJs John Richards and Cheryl Waters, herself a breast cancer survivor:
Dear John, Cheryl & KEXP friends,
I woke up early this morning, heading straight to a 6am strength-building yoga class and not realizing it was my one-year finishing-cancer-treatment-aversary until Facebook reminded me.
What?! Seriously? What a difference a year can make.
I thought life as I knew it was over when I was diagnosed with breast cancer in June 2015. I was 41. My kids were 5 and 7. How on earth was I going to beat cancer while working (taking a year off wasn’t an option), being a good (or bad) mom to my delightful but exhausting children? I was terrified.
Then somehow, day by day, I tackled one challenge after another. Some days felt close to normal. Other days, I cried so hard, I thought I might bust an eyeball.
Three songs that soothed my soul at just the right moments, right when I needed one helluva pick-me-up, were:
1. Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars … which my daughter played for me right after she, my son and husband helped me shave my head. “Listen to this part, Mommy!,” she said.
"When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
'Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile
The whole world stops and stares for a while
'Cause girl, you're amazing
Just the way you are."
2. Roar by Katy Perry … which I chose as my cancer anthem early on, and played on the radio at cosmically appropriate times more times than I can count.
3. Fight Song … which I’m sure has been claimed by so many cancer survivors that you’ve either already played it three times over or you’re saving for some other day, because OMG … so obvious. But get this: What better cool-down song could have played during my final Zumba workout before getting my mastectomy? Seriously cosmic.
Thanks for doing this. I’ve loved hearing all the music that’s healed so many people through battles won and lives lost. Music is such a powerful force, and KEXP is such a gift to our community. I’m immensely grateful for both.
Liz Murtaugh Gillespie
Proud cancer ass-kicker from Seattle
Sean, the kids and I decided to treat ourselves to an impromptu celebration by going to the Music Heals dance party at KEXP's studios. At dinner before the party, I realized my music requests were way too pop 40 for KEXP, so I sent a re-do request:
P.S. OK, the songs below skew WAY more top 40 than most of the music I love listening to. So as not to make your listeners the world over cringe at my not-very-hip suggestions, here's a more KEXP-suitable song request: Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap.
This song made me cry tears of joy and relief as I ran the longest run of my life, not quite six months after I finished my slog through cancer treatment. It played on my iPod seven miles into an eight mile run, right after Rachel Platten's Fight Song and Katy Perry's Roar, which had been my go-to cancer-fighting anthems. I'm not sure what it was, but hearing Sweet Disposition at that moment -- one of my favorite songs long before cancer -- seemed like the cancer cosmos telling me, "You've done it, Liz! You have KICKED CANCER'S ASS!!!"
It was the run that convinced me I could run my first half marathon, which I did joyfully a couple months later.
And to think that just a year ago today, I got my last zaps of radiation on my ex-breast. I am healthier and stronger today than ever before. Immensely grateful for every day, every moment, every song I hear.
Thank you, KEXP!
OMG, we had so much fun.
We busted some serious moves on the dance floor. Boogying my booty off, I knocked a rockin'-out toddler flat on his. My kids laughed at me, but he barely skipped a beat, and a few minutes later, we were jumping up and down to the strains of House of Pain's Jump Around.
We heard an 11-year-old girl with a rare brain cancer, who's nearing the end of her treatment, talk about what a healing influence music has been on her throughout her treatment — about the playlist her family mixed and listened to on the droves to and from her daily radiation treatments at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance's Proton Therapy Center. Standing there on the stage — with a hip-as-can-be outfit, a wig of long blond hair and an oxygen tube you could barely notice giving her some extra air through her nose, connected to a backpack carrying the tank — she exuded nothing but strength, grace and gratitude.
As I was wiping away my tears, a young cancer survivor friend of mine tapped me on the shoulder. I hadn't seen Isabella since summertime, and wow — for her to show up at that very moment, with her sweet brother and sister, Miles and Clara, whom my kids love, and her dad, Daron, a dear friend of our family ... wow.
"Bella!" I cried, as I smiled ear to ear through some more tears. "I'm so happy to see you!!!!"
Cancer has struck Daron's family twice. Isabella is a leukemia survivor. Her mom, Laurie, fought a vicious sarcoma for years, soldiered on with fierce grace even after she had a leg amputated and sought experimental treatments when the cancer spread to her lungs. She spent the last year of her life knowing every passing day was one closer to good-bye.
So yeah, I wasn't quite done crying when I hugged Daron.
A few minutes later, as Isabella looked around for Sylvia, our two families got a tour of the station — SUCH a fun tour — from Owen Murphy, producer of the John in the Morning show.
We guessed how many CDs are in KEXP's music library (about 42,000). He showed us Nirvana's Nevermind album cover, which the station's staff covered with sticker notes that screamed things like "YES, YES, YES!!!" back before the band got big.
Tyler strummed a chord or two from Yellow Submarine, which he's learning to play on the guitar. Sylvia played the opening strains of Death Cab for Cutie's Passenger's Seat on the piano in the performance studio.
A theme that threaded through much of the music played throughout the day was the joy of being present, seizing the day, finding joy in life even during times of struggle.
Yes.
Grit and gratitude have gotten me through a lot this past year. And I hope they'll do the same for you, whatever your challenge is — today, tomorrow or any day.