I am amazed over and over again by how the things that come out of my mouth for the benefit of others are invariably for me also. I had a moving conversation with a client last week, which left both of us breathless. She was deeply stressed and had been coping with far too many [...]
I am amazed over and over again by how the things that come out of my mouth for the benefit of others are invariably for me also. I had a moving conversation with a client last week, which left both of us breathless. She was deeply stressed and had been coping with far too many overwhelming events in her life. I had shared a bit about what I learned from facing cancer that I thought might be helpful. She asked me how I coped with the fear of the cancer coming back.
I surprised myself by telling her that dying doesn’t scare me. It’s dying without completing the urgent demands of my soul that scares me. When I have accomplished what matters to me in this life, I can go. I do not fear dying. I was with my father when he died of cancer at age 44. I know without question that death is not the end. I know what a body looks like with nobody in it, and it’s just a discarded shell.
On the day my father died, I felt him all around me. I felt his love. I felt the power of who he really was, as the Big Him. I was cradled in peace of a kind I have never experienced since. From that day, I have no doubt that I will not cease to exist the day I die.
I needed to be reminded of what I have yet to do. I have been off course.
After that conversation, I took a little time the next day to revisit what was imperative for me. I am going to be fearless and share. Doing this will establish between you and me that I am committed to keeping this at the forefront of my mind and my days, so I can leave when the time comes with no regrets.
The Six Imperatives:
1. I need to write. I have been told many times that I have a book to write. I know I have a story to tell. I must tell it.
2. I need to sing.
3. I need to finish raising my children. They were 7 and 9 when I was diagnosed. I got to get them this far. I’m not done yet.
4. I need to leave no unfinished business. That means that the clutter in my house and garage are not left for my kids to clean up, among other things.
5. I need to see the world. I have always wanted to do that! Somehow I must make it happen.
6. I need to master the art of living from my spirit and not my limited ego. I have had friends joke that I want to be Mother Theresa. While I don’t feel called to go work in the slums of Calcutta, I do aspire to have the kind of trust that she did. Love takes risks, fear lives in safety. I aspire to live boldly.
These six agreements are between me and my soul. The people who are in my life, who I love, are people I trust to support these imperatives. I have the most wonderful friends and the dearest husband in the world.
When I got sick, I hadn’t been on a stage in 20 years. Now I am singing in a quartet, and we rehearse every Tuesday. I don’t know how I survived without this. I discovered how much I loved to write when I started my Caringbridge blog. It started as a way to keep people informed, and it became my lifeline. When I emerged from treatment, everything was beautiful to me. The world sparkled. I was in a state of bliss much of the time, continually grateful to be alive, expecting the miraculous. I told myself I would not lose this feeling, but over time I did.
I will not name my client to protect her privacy, but if you are reading this now you know who you are. Thank you, thank you!
Helen Keller said, “Life is a daring adventure or it is nothing at all”. I will not fall asleep and miss the adventure!
My cast is coming off on June 11. It will be exactly 6 weeks and three days from when I injured it. If the doctor’s office was open on the weekend I might’ve made it six weeks to the day! I decided when I injured it that I would be derailed for a short time [...]
My cast is coming off on June 11. It will be exactly 6 weeks and three days from when I injured it. If the doctor’s office was open on the weekend I might’ve made it six weeks to the day!
I decided when I injured it that I would be derailed for a short time as possible. Unfortunately, when you ask a doctor how to make it heal quickly all he usually have tell you is drink your milk and keep it immobilized. Not satisfied with that, I went online and did my research.
I learned that anti-inflammatories during the first week are counterproductive, because the inflammation response is part of the healing process. So, I took Tylenol instead, and got to work on my guided imagery. I have a whole crew of the little osteognomes in there, bridging the gap across the fracture, wielding huge knitting needles.
After the first week, the doctor was pleased and startled by how fast healing was underway, but dismayed that it had moved out of position just a little bit. He wanted to discuss surgery. I decided that those booms were going to move back where they belonged.
After a week of pulling my fingers, tapping on the bone where it wanted to move, supplementing with calcium, magnesium, and vitamin D, and lots of fresh food and rest, my doctor was startled again.
He thought perhaps that my wrist was aligned properly because the x-ray was taken at a different angle. I told him, “No I did that!”
That was May 14. We ditched the splint, put on a coolerriffic purple cast that lets me bend at the elbow, and he told me he’d see me in four weeks to have the cast removed. Woo hoo!
There is always more to a healing story than the doctors tell you. It felt great to take charge of my recovery. I’ll be back in business in less than three weeks.
17 days and counting!
Yes, I’m still here! I got caught up in the delicious madness of Narnia. We had a great run. My daughter made me proud, I found new levels of wickedness, and my husband was delightfully typecast as Father Christmas. He always is kid furniture, and for this show he was double kid furniture! Every moment [...]
Yes, I’m still here! I got caught up in the delicious madness of Narnia. We had a great run. My daughter made me proud, I found new levels of wickedness, and my husband was delightfully typecast as Father Christmas. He always is kid furniture, and for this show he was double kid furniture! Every moment backstage his lap was occupied. A wonderful time was had by all.
In November, I had a revelation. It has given me back my life and my future. It was suggested to me that I have my son evaluated for ADHD. As I went through the process, I was startled to discover that what I was hearing applied to me. I proceeded to get myself evaluated. At the age of 51, I was diagnosed with ADHD. I have had it all my life.
Imagine, the combination of ADHD and chemobrain! No wonder I felt like I couldn’t get any traction! Now I understood why I have spent so much of my life in overwhelm.
I was, strangely, not in overwhelm when I fought cancer. I went into hyperfocus, much the same way I did whey I bicycled the Pacific Coast by myself in 1988. I knew the goal and the path, and I had faith that I would get there. When normal life resumed and I had to juggle many interests and responsibilities, I was overwhelmed.
So, the diagnosis was a revelation. The most amazing part was that I stopped beating myself up for being a flake, undisciplined, and underachiever, blah blah blah.
No one begrudges a slower time running the mile to someone who has one leg shorter than the other. It’s a simple matter of brain chemistry. My frontal lobe doesn’t have enough available dopamine. Exit self judgment, enter partnership with my wildly creative brain. I love my brain. I love how creative and intuitive it is. I just lost some other stuff to have that. So, during December, after I got the formal diagnosis, I began to research. While I was waiting to see the doctor again, I learned all kinds of tricks to work with my brain. It has been extraordinary.
In January I saw the doc and she prescribed Wellbutrin. For me it is a miracle drug. The static in my head is much reduced, and often it’s not there. Instead of everything I have to do feeling equally urgent (prompting me to freeze) I know how to decide what comes first.
My original intention was to try medication so I could feel what a more functional frontal lobe feels like. After researching Wellbutrin, I found to my relief that it actually has some other benefits that feel good to me. Preliminary research in mice suggests that it may have cancer preventative properties, because it reduces inflammation. It’s all good. We’ll see.
Right now I am catching up on all the balls I have dropped in the last five years. Woo-Hoo!
If you have left a comment recently, please forgive me. I will moderate soon. I have some spam to sift through. Aaaargh!
Happy New Year!
I have been in the middle of a five year crisis. I got a little off track. Fortunately, not far, just a little. I have course-corrected and I feel excited about life again. When I faced IBC in 2007, I felt deep in my bones that I would be all right. This wasn’t even logical, [...]
I have been in the middle of a five year crisis. I got a little off track. Fortunately, not far, just a little. I have course-corrected and I feel excited about life again.
When I faced IBC in 2007, I felt deep in my bones that I would be all right. This wasn’t even logical, which fortunately I didn’t know. I just felt intuitively that the path to my survival was the path of total congruence. This is a loaded word for me. It means integrity, and by this I mean true. My life had to be the truest, more joyful expression of me that I could make it, or I wouldn’t make it. I felt deeply that I had to uncover all the joy in my life that I had been putting off until it was my time. In February of 2007, I knew that I might not get any more time. I had to make every piece of my world a reflection of what mattered to me. It was not only what I wanted to do, but it was what I had to do to get well.
As I emerged from chemotherapy and surgery, I was back into my creativity full swing after having let it sleep for decades. I started making art, and had an art show at the Healing Store at the hospital where I was working. Some people bought prints. It was exhilarating.
As I began my radiation treatments, I felt called to the stage after a 20 year absence. My daughter was doing theater that summer, and I found out that the main stage show was going to be “Narnia”. Waves of joy flooded through me and I knew I had to play the White Witch. It was glorious. The music was glorious, cackling and turning little children into stone was glorious, finding that my voice had continued to develop and mature without me paying an attention to it was glorious.
Being fully self-expressed was my lifeline. I developed boundaries, much to the dismay of my children. I decided that if it wasn’t fun, if it didn’t make me happy, I wasn’t doing it. Most of all this applied to work.
As the terror receded into the past, I began to realize that my commitment to self expression had waned as well. Hence, the crisis. I wasn’t bouncing out of bed happy to be alive as I did back then, just after being plucked from the lion’s jaws. In 2008, I was so happy every day that choosing the path to joy was easy.
What if from the very beginning, each of us learned to express ourselves truthfully in every area of our lives? Would we even get sick? When I got sick, I hadn’t felt much but resignation and stress for a long time. I was a burnt-out massage therapist recovering from a soul-killing marriage and ugly divorce, with two hurting children. I didn’t see any light at the end of this dark tunnel.
When I was told “you have cancer”, I knew I had to find it or die.
Lately I’ve been busy writing, working at the children’s hospital, seeing private clients, and looking for the opportunities I may have been missing to be wildly creative. The book got back-burner’d for a little while as I stretched my freelancing muscles for paying clients, including some web pages for a silicon valley consulting company. Bay Area e.T.c. is doing “Narnia” again, and now my daughter is an accomplished thespian who could shine in any role she gets. She will audition for the part of Susan, and I am preparing to bring an older, wiser, slightly rounder, certainly more energetic White Witch to the stage. My husband is even planning to get in on the fun.
A woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do. What is it that you gotta do?
Last night I had the most GLORIOUS sleep. I went to bed, read a little of something sort of interesting but not important or fast paced, and then my head hit the pillow. The next thing I knew it was morning, and I woke up right before my alarm. I can’t think of the last [...]
Last night I had the most GLORIOUS sleep. I went to bed, read a little of something sort of interesting but not important or fast paced, and then my head hit the pillow. The next thing I knew it was morning, and I woke up right before my alarm.
I can’t think of the last time that happened.
I’ve heard that cancer survivors can have difficulty sleeping. I also know that menopause does that to people. Worry certainly does that to people, and I’ve been doing that.
Last night some sort of magic happened, and I slept soundly and peacefully. Today it was a whole new world.
Do you have any magic formula for reproducing this miracle? I’m all ears! Please share your sleep tricks in the comments below. I’m sure there has to be one or two that I haven’t heard yet!
I sure hope I can repeat this miraculous feat tonight. I had a wonderfully productive day.
My Mom is a writer. She just published her third book of poetry. Go Mom! My sister is a writer. She published a short story once, but unless she publishes, she doesn’t show us anything! I discovered that I was a writer on my Caringbridge blog. I guess that’s another unexpected gift that cancer gave [...]
My Mom is a writer. She just published her third book of poetry. Go Mom!
My sister is a writer. She published a short story once, but unless she publishes, she doesn’t show us anything!
I discovered that I was a writer on my Caringbridge blog. I guess that’s another unexpected gift that cancer gave me. For a long time, I thought that writing was Mom and Emily’s gig, not mine. I had a long chat with my mom about it. She told me that even my brother Paul has published an editorial in the local paper! Who knew? I already knew he is a fine musician. I guess I come from a talented family!
So, I’m embracing this new calling of mine. I have been blogging for awhile over at Everyday Health, and recently I got an e-mail from my contact there that I would be reporting directly to the editors, because (drum roll….) they like my writing!
I’ve sorta been quiet about it. It’s my own private thing, or has been. When I started my blog at Caringbridge, I did it to help me get through the toughest time of my life. It was for me. When I started getting comments from people I had never met, it felt wonderful to know that what was so satisfying for me to write had value for someone else. Still, I would not call myself a writer.
Now, I am summoning my courage to write “on purpose”, and try to get good at it.
Will you tell me what you think? Give me some feedback?
I just published an article on Associated Content. It was an assignment. I thought it would be fun, so I took it and did my best. Will you follow the link and take a look? If you like it, will you become a fan? If you like it a lot, will you tell your friends?
In the meantime I will (as Jo said, in “Little Women”, one of my favorite books of all time) up and take another.
Fragile, Handle with Care, NOT! What a glorious thing to go backpacking and discover that the post-cancer me is not as fragile and weak as I thought! I guess it’s the fond memories of my childhood that translates into the satisfaction of “being a trooper”, which was my Dad’s way of describing someone who rolls [...]
Fragile, Handle with Care, NOT!
What a glorious thing to go backpacking and discover that the post-cancer me is not as fragile and weak as I thought! I guess it’s the fond memories of my childhood that translates into the satisfaction of “being a trooper”, which was my Dad’s way of describing someone who rolls with the punches. Do you remember getting so grubby and scraped up that it took a long shower and lots of scrubbing to determine what was dirt and what was scrapes and bruises? The delicious feeling of a well earned sunburn that brings to mind a satisfying day outside? Maybe I’m nuts, but the feeling of being a little beat up but happy makes me feel sturdy and alive.
I met my dear friend Susan at her home on Friday, and we were immediately derailed by a late bus (to bring my godson Victor home). Nothing daunted, we drove to fetch him on the way. We were quite delayed then getting to our destination, but we were determined to get up into the mountains that very night, dark or no. Fortunately Susan’s brother Frank, nephew Ben, and another friend (new brother) Paul were already there.
I had some trepidation about this trip. What if… what if….. what if I overwork my chemo-d heart? What if my arm swells up? What if we get lost? What if my brainfog makes me forget something important? Blah blah blah, off my brain went, but my tendency to blast forward no matter what won out, and I’m so glad.
When I put the backpack on, I was oh, so discouraged. I was out of breath within the first 10 yards, no kidding. The straps cut into my shoulders. My heart was racing. I needed the trek pole that Susan had provided. We were at 6,500 feet, and I was not ready.
Nonetheless, I know the only way out is through, so one foot in front of the other with frequent rests ultimately got us there. And was it ever worth it! The trek there was beautiful. It was only 3 miles, not too tough terrain, only a couple of hills, so for all my woes it was manageable.
We spent Friday and Saturday night there. We had one whole day of nothing at all, just hanging out, visiting, exploring the magic of the place. Susan calls it Camp Medicine Wheel because there is a mountain at the compass points to the West, North and East. We entered camp roughly from the south. We camped next to a river, which lulled us to sleep each night. On Saturday, a thunder storm surrounded us on three sides, while the sky above us remained clear. It was nothing less than heaven.
I did make a couple of relevant discoveries for cancer survivors who backpack. I was diligent about my “Alaska perfume” (bug spray), but my left arm was covered by a sleeve all of the time so I didn’t spray it. When I went to bed, I took the sleeve off. Alas, forgot to spray! After that, my friends called me Lumpy.
It was so gratifying to hike back to the trail head with plenty of energy, having become accustomed to the altitude (and having eaten a lot of the food we carried up!), with a chipped tooth, lumpy arm, burns on both hands, lots of sunburn and bruises, and an ear-to-ear grin. No, not fragile. What a relief!
Sunday ended perfectly, with a stop in Angel’s Camp to look at rocks (there’s an unbelievable store there) and a chance to drum. We actually stumbled upon a weekly open drum circle.
I wonder if other survivors doubt their resilience after being beat up by cancer and the treatments we have to take to conquer it. Anybody? What about folks still in treatment?
I know that when I was on chemotherapy it felt good to push myself a little, to walk to my radiation treatments, to do yoga, to find the edge. I had just forgotten. This weekend was a much needed, very therapeutic reminder.
Planning the next one….
There’s still time to catch the show if you’re in the Bay Area! This coming weekend is the end. I’ve had a great time, and I’m glad to get my weekends and Monday nights back. All the same, I am going to enjoy every moment on stage and every blissful note I get to sing [...]
There’s still time to catch the show if you’re in the Bay Area! This coming weekend is the end. I’ve had a great time, and I’m glad to get my weekends and Monday nights back. All the same, I am going to enjoy every moment on stage and every blissful note I get to sing for the next four performances.
Tom will be The Wiz one more time, on Saturday. Check out the Bay Area e.T.c. website if you want to see some really fun theater and a lot of really adorable kids!
Tech week was insane, as it always is. Nine days in a row in the theater with late nights and life as usual. The house becomes a wreck, everybody gets cranky, and we hear songs in our heads in the middle of the night. I used to worry about the stress, the lack of sleep, forgetting my vitamins and my vegetables. Now I have come to the conclusion that having my spirit hum is every bit as good for me as some yoga or a green drink! When I sing, every cell in my body is joyful. That just has to be good for a person!
So, on with the show, and back to normal on Monday.
I saw my oncologist a couple of weeks ago and I feel very reassured. No causes for concern whatsoever.
And the request on the right? I am going to D.C., and I am so stoked! My scholarship covers registration and lodging, but not meals and travel. So far I have received donations to cover half my airline ticket, for which I am so grateful! I didn’t have it to spend, but I spent it anyway because I have to go! My ticket is purchased on faith, and I still have to cover meals and other expenses. If 60 people donate $10.00 I’ll be there. Or, 120 people at $5.00. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to those who already have helped! I will report in depth on what I learn, and you can bet I’m going to use every bit of it.
Now to organize my bizillion costumes for tomorrow!
I guess I’ve been resettling and regrouping. I’ve also been sick, which includes it’s own anxieties. I had a wisdom tooth infection, then a flu/cold bug that lingered, and lingered, and lingered, and now some back pain most likely from doing something stupid, but alas go wheels and cogs. I really am looking forward to [...]
I guess I’ve been resettling and regrouping. I’ve also been sick, which includes it’s own anxieties. I had a wisdom tooth infection, then a flu/cold bug that lingered, and lingered, and lingered, and now some back pain most likely from doing something stupid, but alas go wheels and cogs.
I really am looking forward to feeling healthy again. It’s been weeks, and that’s just a bummer for anybody.
I also took a break from all the “cancer stuff”. Sometimes it’s just so hard. I want to do everything I can to bring hope and positivity to a really rough journey, for whoever has to take it. Unfortunately I haven’t figured out how to do that and not get overwhelmed by the suffering of others. Yes, it overwhelms me. I don’t like it. Who does? Cancer sucks, yes indeed.
I’m hoping I’ll learn more at the end of April, when I go to the conference in D.C. I’m thrilled that they awarded me a scholarship! Now I really have to go dig in, and figure out how to do that and keep myself sane and happy. This is something I really want to do.
Recently I read “The Emperor of All Maladies”. I was deeply touched by the story of herceptin, and the obstacles that came up to getting it into mainstream medicine where it could save the lives of people like me. There was a woman, waiting on the edge of life, begging to be given the new drug. Genentech would not release it because all clinical trials had not been completed. The woman died.
On the day of her death, activists, survivors, and patients drove their vehicles in an outraged demonstration onto the grounds of Genentech, over the lawns, through the parking lots, honking their horns and and waving signs in an uproar of protest.
More compassionate and timely studies have emerged since then. That woman did not have the power to fight alone. Because of the rest who did, many like me are still here.
My goal in the next few weeks is to actively and deliberately, with much inward work and outward resources, find a way to be a cancer warrior without having my life identified by cancer. I need to find a way to have days and maybe even weeks that I don’t think about it, because that is healthy survivorship. I need to pick the brains of other women I admire who manage to continue their healthy and happy survivorship and be the rocks that they are for others who suffer.
So, onward, back to life, back to rehearsals. The Wiz is opening on March 25! It’s going to be a great show. I’m in all of them, since I’m not doublecast, but to see my husband rock as The Wiz, check out the Silver Slippers Cast! Tickets are available at www.bayareaetc.org.
Hope to see you there!
I have a rash on my chest. I think I remember feeling it there after a day of rehearsing, sometime last week. Dancing and sweating, dripping down my chest, noticing little bumps there later and not thinking much about it. It’s been a few days. More sweat today, three hours of dancing. Took a bath. [...]
I have a rash on my chest.
I think I remember feeling it there after a day of rehearsing, sometime last week. Dancing and sweating, dripping down my chest, noticing little bumps there later and not thinking much about it. It’s been a few days.
More sweat today, three hours of dancing. Took a bath. Rash looks kind of nasty and itches. Thinking….
Oh shit. This could be skin metastases.
I looked up some pictures. I looked closely. Yes, it could be that, but again it might not be. If it is, it’s early. Now that I’m aware of it, it seems itchier and redder.
My oncologist is away until Tuesday, my mom (my rock) is out of town. I called my husband in to look at the pictures and then look at my rash. He told me it looked like a sweat rash to him but that I should get it checked out right away.
So, a call to the oncology office tomorrow, and I will see someone else if not Dr. Canales. In the meantime, I’ve put Calendula lotion on it and I’m going to sleep tonight and hope for the best.
Fear of recurrence is a big deal for us IBC-ers (as we call ourselves I’ve noticed). It’s nearly four years out for me, so I have been holding on to the statistics in my favor, that say that most recurrences of IBC occur between the first 2-3 years. I read on one website that if nothing turns up by five years then it’s probable that we’re cured.
So, in addition to the yoga I do to minimize aches scaring me, and the neck stretches and acupressure I do to keep headaches from scaring me, if I’m lucky and this is just a sweat rash, I’ll add baby powder to my arsenal of things to keep other things from scaring me!
This first five years is so hard….
About The LIberation of Persephone/ElizabethElizabeth Danu started this blog to provide a postive and useful resource for people facing cancer and thier loved ones. She is now a ten year survivor of Stage IIIC Inflammatory Breast cancer, enjoying her post-cancer life as a mom, blogger, speaker, wellness consultant and unquenchable optimist. She also sings and performs regularly with her a capella quartet, Curious Blend.
- Click here to try a free sample of the most effective pain relief cream on the market.
Share the Love
This blog is a labor of love, and it has to fit into the nooks and crannies of my crazy, busy, wonderful life.
The few ads, affiliate links and other goodies help me enjoy getting my blog groove on here without feeling like I'm playing hooky, since I have dependents and I'm supposed to be at work! I also share the love with my favorite breast cancer research organizations.
Thanks so much!
- after treatment (21)
- Breast Cancer Awareness (4)
- chemotherapy (18)
- children (2)
- Complementary Therapies (4)
- Deadline 2020 (6)
- Feelgood (8)
- Getting Through Treatment (1)
- Guided Imagery (1)
- Guided Imagery (3)
- Humor (6)
- Inflammatory Breast Cancer (12)
- Life (4)
- Living well (7)
- Lymphedema (1)
- metastatic breast cancer (1)
- nutrition (3)
- prevention and diagnosis (7)
- recurrence (5)
- research (8)
- Resources (2)
- self care (32)
- statistics (4)
- Support (11)
- surgery (2)
- Survivorship (31)
- Uncategorized (69)
- Elizabeth on Inflammatory Breast Cancer
- Allan Birmantas on Inflammatory Breast Cancer
- Auntie on Contact Me
- Elizabeth on What to Know Before Your First Chemotherapy Session
- Sheila Warren on What to Know Before Your First Chemotherapy Session
- September 2016 (1)
- September 2015 (1)
- August 2014 (2)
- April 2014 (1)
- March 2014 (1)
- February 2014 (1)
- October 2013 (1)
- August 2013 (1)
- May 2013 (2)
- January 2013 (1)
- October 2012 (1)
- August 2012 (2)
- July 2012 (2)
- May 2012 (4)
- April 2012 (3)
- March 2012 (3)
- February 2012 (4)
- January 2012 (2)
- December 2011 (2)
- November 2011 (3)
- October 2011 (3)
- September 2011 (7)
- August 2011 (9)
- July 2011 (3)
- June 2011 (1)
- May 2011 (5)
- April 2011 (3)
- March 2011 (2)
- February 2011 (7)
- January 2011 (11)
- December 2010 (26)
- November 2010 (29)
- October 2010 (9)
Tagsadvocacy appreciation army of women breast cancer breastcancer breast cancer awareness month cancer cancer statistics cancer treatment Caringbridge chemotherapy chemotherapy 101 deadline 2020 diagnosis Elizabeth Danu gratitude guided imagery happiness healing IBC imagery inflammatory breast cancer liberationofpersephone media medication metastatic disease neulasta nutrition pink ribbons preventing breast cancer relationships research self care sleep statistics survival survive survivor survivors survivorship theliberationofpersephone.com thrive time management white blood cells yoga
DO NOT DUPLICATEAll text and art found on these pages belong to Elizabeth Danu, Copyright 2008 - 2014 unless otherwise noted. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use of any material on this site is strictly prohibited. For permission to use anything presented here, please contact me directly. Elizabeth Danu
Disclosure:My intention with this website is to provide an oasis of hope for those facing a fierce diagnosis. Any proceeds from this site go towards building this resource and for breast cancer research, particularly directed towards Deadline 2020 for the end of breast cancer. Blessings, Elizabeth
My bedside companion in 2007
- The Liberation of Persephone is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. Every item listed with this program has been personally used and valued by the author.