Jen and Dave Linn



July 14th – Only The Good Die Young	I uncovered some heartbreaking news about a month ago…. Eden Dodd, a very important person in my life, had been killed in a car accident. She, along with her mother, was killed in an auto/train accident in Bucharest, Romania in May 2004. Although she passed away over 2 years ago, I just recently found out via a Google search so to me, my pain is quite fresh. I last saw and spoke with Eden in August 1997 before I headed to Boston for business school. It may seem odd that someone with whom I had lost touch with for nearly 9 years would be considered such an important person in my life…but she was exactly that. She profoundly impacted my outlook on life and I have missed her terribly for the past 9 years and will continue to miss her for the rest of my life. I met Eden in 1993 through the Everybody Wins Foundation, a mentoring program that matches elementary school students with corporate volunteers who work in the neighborhood. Although the program was intended to be just a weekly hour-long reading session, 8-year old Eden and I immediately hit it off and became very close. In addition to acting as her tutor, Eden also became the sister I never had. We would often go to movies and museums together and she would often sleep over at my apartment when her single mother had other obligations. Eden could light up a room with her smile. She was a gorgeous girl but her outer beauty paled in comparison to her huge heart. To say she was creative was an understatement. Eden loved to dance, sing and act…. I remember falling off my chair sometimes with laughter as I witnessed her imitating everyone from her teacher to her fellow students to famous celebrities. Eden would always speak her mind. I remember we were once shopping for clothes for her Ken doll at FAO Schwarz and she lectured the salesperson about “gender stereotyping” According to the assortment FAO Schwarz carried, Ken could only be a veterinarian or a baseball player. She looked at the sales assistant in the eye and said “What’s wrong with the world when I can’t just get Ken a pair of khakis?” Upon visiting an amusement park and entering a haunted house, Eden promptly told the pale, dressed in all-white mad scientist that he would “benefit greatly from adding pastels to his wardrobe”. When she came to work with me for “Take Your Daughter to Work Day”, I found her, at the end of the day, sitting at my desk typing a resignation letter to her elementary school. She had decided to retire from 3rd grade and become an advertising executive. Yes, being with Eden was always an adventure. Over time, Eden’s academics improved along with her self-esteem. I helped her enroll in creative writing courses and in dance classes and she truly excelled. She began writing a “novel” and some of my most rewarding moments to date were watching her perform in dance recitals. We had every intention of staying close when I moved to Boston for business school. Unfortunately, her mother decided rather impulsively to move to Romania with a boyfriend and she did not leave a forwarding address. I spent YEARS trying to find Eden but in vain. Her mother and she had a different last name and trying to find an 11 year old in Romania is a challenge, to say the least. I last looked for Eden in the summer of 2003 when I was finalizing Dave’s and my wedding list. I SO wanted Eden to be a bridesmaid and see me marry the many of my dreams (believe me, she ALWAYS had comments about the old boyfriends I dated). I knew that she would love Dave. Although I could never find her, what gave me solace was the fact that her personality was too big to go unnoticed by this world. I knew one day I would find her on the big screen, or on the cover of Time Magazine. I always knew we would have our reunion. About a month ago, I had a very vivid dream about her and decided to search again. I was devastated to find out, via Google, that Eden and her mother had been killed. What has been so heartbreaking for me is that I feel like I have now lost Eden twice; 9 years ago when she moved to Romania, and last month when I found out about her untimely death. Fortunately, I have gotten some closure by reaching out to her grandparents and her school headmaster in Romania. They have been kind enough to share stories and send writing samples to me that demonstrate that Eden’s creativity and spirit only got greater as she got older. I realize that the opportunity to change someone’s life for the better is incredibly rewarding and I am so grateful that I was able to do so for Eden. She once told me that “you taught me what it means to have a big heart” – I was so flattered I was speechless. I never worked so hard for someone and it was worth every single minute. I just wish that I had more time with her. Eden, I love you and miss you. Thank you for contributing so much to my life.	Congratulating the dance star at her recital Beautiful Eden As I will always remember her... at the age of 8 Wearing matching outfits for ‘Take your Daughter to Work Day” What Eden looked like when she was 18
July 4th - Has it Really Been Three Months?	I went onto the website today and COULD NOT believe that it has been almost 3 months since my last official entry. I have been feeling out of sorts lately and I think that some of it could be attributed to the fact that I have not written in so long...so, in an effort to make myself feel better, I am going to begin to update the website on a more frequency basis (1-2X a month or whenever I feel it is "needed"). The past 3 months have been a series of ups & downs. The "ups" have been feeling healthy and happy and getting the opportunity to travel to see so many friends. I really missed not being able to get on a plane when I was recovering and the ability to see loved ones so much more easily now is wonderful. I spent a great weekend in Miami visiting with Rob and Tamara and attending a Spinning Intructors Convention (what a hoot...I can't begin to tell you how fanatical so many of these people were...they actually had TATTOOS of the spinning logo on their biceps!) I also spent a few weekends visiting the Linn family in Chicago and spending lots of quality time with them - especially with my nieces Samantha and Ally. Samantha celebrated her 6th birthday party with a hip-hop teacher and it was so much fun to attend! The highlight of the past few months was going to the World Cup in Germany for two weeks with Dave and our friends Lewis, Andrea, Geoff and Tara. We had a great, great time...going to 8 games in 11 days! Although we did not have a lot of time to sightsee, we were based in Munich and spent a lot of time sampling the local food (beer and every type of gummy candy you can imagine) in the biergartens. On a personal high note, I got to visit Salsburg for the day and see where many of The Sound of Music scenes were created. The next month continues to hold a lot of fun travel - visiting with college girlfriends in Nashville, TN and attending a wedding in Portland, OR. The "downs" have been trying desperately to get back to living a "normal" life, whatever that means. It seems like most people talk about getting through cancer as being the toughest part of the process but I have found adjusting back to life has been very challenging. I was really good at taking on the big obstacles, and now I am having a bit of a tougher time managing all of the "small stuff" that gets in the way with life when you are healthy and don't have to be so single-mindedly focused on survival. I find that I am having a hard time making decisions, prioritizing my time, dealing with others and managing my list of things to do. There is so much I want to do and not nearly enough time in the day. I get stressed about things that I know are so unimportant in the grand scheme of things. I keep on saying to myself " when you were going through chemo, you had so few errands to run and things to do...why now are you so busy?" The answer is that I don't have any more or less to do, it's just that I am now letting my mind get preoccupied with the small stuff. I am trying hard to reprioritize my brain to live life much as I had when I was going through cancer but it has proven much easier to say than to do. My hair is growing back...much more SLOWLY than I'd like it to. I have come to the realization that I am much more VAIN that I have ever wanted to admit. I look at myself in the mirror and don't like what I see...a curly afro (what happened to my "dream" that my new hair would be thick,long and straight...just as I wanted it to be?). I am working hard on accepting how I look but it is hard. I am going to the hairdresser next week and I am hoping that by end of July, the wig will be off. That's it for now. I promise to write again soon.	Drinking beer in Munich

		Cheering on Brazil

		Spending quality time with Samantha and Ally

April 8th - Laughter is the Best Medicine Check out the Party Photos here!
	This past Thursday, Dave and I hosted a very special "thank you" party honoring those folks who live in the NY area that helped us battle cancer. We rented out a comedy club and celebrated this milestone in our treatment. Unfortunately, many people who were so critical in helping us make it through this past year could not be present due to distance etc So, we wanted to send along the words that we shared before the show began. Please know that although you were not able to attend, you were very much in our hearts and minds as we spoke... Thank you so, so much for coming tonight to celebrate with Dave and me. This night is so special to us as it marks a new chapter in our fight against cancer…. we are done with active treatment and fingers crossed; we can get through the next five years without a recurrence. We thought that a night of improv was a perfect theme for why we are all here together tonight because improv can really be described as: Doing the best you can with something that is unexpectedly thrown at you Working together as a team to create real “moments of truth” A method of performance art that allows for creativity/partnership that is beyond what is typical or normal I found this description on the Internet and I loved it: Improv closely resembles the experience of jumping off a cliff and learning to design your wings on the way down. Well, when I found out I had cancer, jumping off a cliff was a bit like what it felt like. But thankfully, I had all of you to help me improv…. and we all did, TOGETHER, we really made the most of something that was unexpectedly thrown at us. When I look into the theatre tonight I see and feel so much love. The people assembled in this room tonight represent everyone who made a real difference in our lives and helped us live strong every day. · Our families who were so united from day one about how we would handle this…I joke around that battling cancer was easier than planning our wedding because everyone was on the same page and had the same goal · My doormen Larry and Juan who inspired me to keep going every day · My personal Trainer Josh, and my favorite spinning teachers, Will and Nella who wouldn’t take chemo for an answer and helped me stay strong… · My work colleagues who never got upset when I couldn’t take on an assignment or couldn’t travel on business trips · Dave’s soccer teammates who gave him the invaluable gift of helping to take his mind off what was going on at home · Our friends who brought new meaning to “visiting hours” at the hospital and who filled my hospital room with flowers, our refrigerator with food and our voicemail and email boxes with constant messages of love and support · Everyone from Memorial Sloan Kettering (my nurses, doctors,) who took such, such good care of me…who helped me maintain my dignity during some pretty challenging times · Ken and Robin from my weekly women’s group who helped me realize that I have cancer but I am not cancer…and helped me live life the way I wanted to live it – not the way people thought I should live it. If I have not gotten a chance to thank each of you individually, please don’t leave tonight before I can. A lot of people ask me if I am angry or stay up at night wondering “why me?” I don’t do that because in many ways I feel like cancer was the best thing to happen to me. But I have spent a fair amount of time pondering, “Why am I the lucky one who survived?” Unfortunately we all know a lot of people who have not been as fortunate with cancer…what makes me one of the lucky ones…
	Some people say, “Oh, it’s because you’re in such good shape…that’s why you managed cancer and chemo so well” Others say, “It’s because you have such a positive attitude and spirit – that’s what got you through” But I don’t believe those are the reasons…I truly believe the reason I am standing here today is because of all of you. Your love and support made me realize how important I am…it made me so critically aware of how rich my life was…and how much I wanted to continue to live. Your words and your actions said to me: · Yes, I can · Yes, I will · Yes, I DID Thank you so, so much… now let’s have some fun!
March 20th - Getting Back to "Normal"	Hello! I can not believe that it has been 5 weeks since my last journal entry. I keep on saying that I need to write because so much has been happening...but it is that so much has been happening that I haven't had a chance to write! Getting back to life as "normal" is not as easy as it sounds. I have spent so much of the past year single-mindedly focused on one thing that all of the sudden, I am experiencing a bit of "overload" with trying to reengage in everything. I read somewhere that it is very common for cancer survivors to overcommit to things and overextend themselves early after they have been deemed cancer-free. This definitely applies to me. I feel like all of the sudden, I want to get involved in lots of activities, I want to make up for the lack of travel that Dave and I were able to do over the past year...it is exhausting! I keep on reminding myself that what I loved so much about the past year was that there was never a doubt that my #1 priority was myself...I have to continue to prioritize me although the "noise" of the real world is much louder when you don't have a life-threatening disease. The good news is that I am feeling great! My hair is starting to grow back, my nails are getting stronger and I no longer get exhausted like I used to. I am having great workouts at the gym and am trying to gain my strength back since I was not able to lift weights for 6 weeks after surgery. Honestly, I don't feel that I have that much more energy than when I was going through chemotherapy (granted, I am no longer on the "juice"). I think that my mind was so determined to make me live strong that I never let my body take a rest. That is catching up a bit with me now. I do remember that during my first few weeks being "cancer free", I felt more tired than I had during my entire 6 months of chemo. I guess I "allowed" the adrenaline to stop working so hard. I have made the decision that after 34 years on this planet, I love my body. This is quite shocking to me because I spend most of the time being disappointed that I can't be 10 pounds lighter, lift weights of 10 pounds heavier etc. However, this experience has made me realize that my body is strong, resilient and doesn't back down. Given all that I have been through, my body continues to amaze me. It doesn't give up. Although I know that I will still go through days when I wish I could lose a few pounds or run a bit quicker etc., I have gained a true respect for my body that I won't ever forget. I find that when you learn to respect your body the way that I have, it becomes much easier to give it the right foods, provide the necessary amount of sleep etc. We're only given 1 body in life (we can't trade it in like a car) and I am now committed to really taking care of it for the rest of my life. I have big week coming up! I am turning 35 on Tuesday and my first CT scan is on Friday. It is hard to believe that I am already being monitored to see if the cancer has come back...I realize that quarterly CT scans are something that I will have to live with for the rest of my life. However, as opposed to CT scans in the past, I am no longer worried about them. I've learned that I am capable of handling anything and that gives me great comfort. I will write again soon. I promise.
February 11th - A Real Role Model	Cancer has made me keenly aware of how other people chose to live their lives. When you are faced with a life-threatening disease, you have one of two choices: to give up or fight like hell. I chose the latter and I truly believe that this "fight like hell" attitude strongly contributed to my current "status" as a cancer survivor. Refusing to let my cancer get the better of me, I chose to live life consistent with how I was feeling, not how the doctors or "community" told me I should be feeling. Having spent the last 14 months so focused on "life is what you make of it", I can't help watching others and seeing how they chose to live their lives. Ideally, I believe one should have this "fight like hell" attitude every day of their lives, not just when faced with a specific challenge.	My grandmother, a wonderful and inspiring role model
	By looking at the world through this lens, I realized that I have a new hero and a new role model- my grandmother, Doris. My grandma and I have always had a close relationship but I believe that the last year has made us even closer. Despite the almost 50 year age difference, I realize that we are made of the same "material", and we have chosen to live life in a similar fashion. Over the years, my grandmother has had her share of challenges, losing her husband and losing a son, but she has always looked at those situations as opportunities: opportunities to better understand herself and reminders that she should live life to the fullest every, single day. Last January, after my initial diagnosis, my grandmother sent me an email that I will always cherish. It said, "NOW THAT SOME TIME HAS PASSED AND I FEEL MY WORD WILL GET TO YOU, I TOO MUST ADD MY PRAYERS AND HOPE. YOU ARE A STRONG PERSON AND I KNOW YOU WILL LOOK THIS ENEMY IN THE EYE AND SAY SCREW YOU. I HAVE EVERY FAITH IN YOU". At first I, was torn between shock and amusement that my 83 year -old grandmother would chose to use such language. But then I realized that she was able to capture the exact way I had chosen to manage this challenge. She completely understood that I have cancer but cancer doesn't have me. I realized at that moment that having her as a role model for the past 34 years, has greatly contributed to how I am handling my cancer. Having watched my grandmother battle physical and emotional challenges with courage, determination and endless strength has given me a clear roadmap for how I want to be and how I want to live my life. What a gift she has given me. My grandmother and I get together often but it is never enough. We communicate through phone calls and email to keep each other abreast of what is going on in our lives. But what I really love is that we don't need words to know that we completely understand and respect each other. I aspire to demonstrate even half of the fortitude, resilience and stamina that she has displayed throughout her life. I love you grandma.
February 2nd – 100% Cancer-Free…Now what?	Today Dave, my parents and I heard the words that we have been hoping to hear for the past 14 months…I am disease-free! As of today, I can officially call myself a cancer survivor. Unbelievable…it will take me a while to adjust to this “new status”. Both my oncologist and my surgeon confirmed that the tumor, in addition to all of the other areas they biopsied during surgery, revealed no active cancer cells when they were placed under a microscope. This puts me in a much better place than where I was after my last surgery when the pathology report revealed that there were still microscopic cells living in my stomach/pelvic area.
	So, I’ve spent the last 14 months single-mindedly fighting this disease…now what am I supposed to do? Unfortunately, I am not “off the hook” quite yet. The Dr’s gave me 50/50 odds that the cancer will come back over the next 3 years. Although 50/50 doesn’t sound great, it is much better than when the odds were stacked 90% against me after my first surgery. They explained to me that given how well I responded to both the chemotherapy and to the surgery, “I am the best case scenario of an unpredictable situation”. Basically, this means that they hope my odds are better than 50/50 but they don’t want to make any promises given how unpredictable sarcoma can be. The Dr.’s said that I will now go back to “watchful waiting” which means I will have CT scans of my chest, abdomen and pelvic area every 3 months for the next 5 years. 70% of recurrences happen in the first 3 years and 90% of recurrences happen within 5 years. So, if I can get through 3 years without the cancer recurring, we will all rest a lot easier. If I can get through 5 years, we will be ecstatic! The common reaction that someone has when they hear my news is to say “Let’s celebrate! That is fantastic”. The truth is, I don’t really feel like celebrating right now. I have been actively mobilizing against this disease for the last 14 months…now that I don’t need to fight anymore, I am just plain tired! It feels like I haven’t stopped running since last December and now I just need a break. ] I also feel that the biggest battle/challenge isn’t really over, in a way it has only just begun. Trying to live cancer-free, knowing that every 3 months over the next 5 years I will be “tested” (physically and emotionally) to see if the cancer recurs seems a lot harder to me than what I just handled. There is something deeply gratifying about actively treating your condition every month…you feel like you have some amount of control. Watchful waiting seems a lot more terrifying to me. Although I know I have to “forget” about these quarterly check-ins and live life one day at a time, that is much easier said than done. I have just begun to digest all of this news. It was a bit of a surprise to me that I had mixed feelings when the Dr’s gave me this GREAT news. I thought I would be tremendously happy and what I find is that I am a bit sad as well. On one hand, I am so, so grateful that I have won this battle and don’t need to actively treat my sarcoma anymore. On the other hand, I have been so focused on handling and attacking my cancer, that I feel there is a bit of a void. A good friend of mine equated my situation to post-partum depression and I think the analogy works well. From the moment you find out you are pregnant, you spend every waking minute doing everything in your power to produce the most wonderful, healthy baby that ever was to be born. “Giving up” is just not an option. When that baby is born, you are thrilled to have a child but you also struggle with questions such as “what do I do now?” “What will define me?” I am convinced that this is the reason why so many cancer survivors run marathons or do other amazing athletic feats. Part of it is to prove that their bodies are strong, but a bigger part I believe, is due to the fact that they need another “task” to be single-mindedly committed to. The more I find myself facing these post-treatment challenges, the more I admire the mission of Lance Armstrong’s Live Strong Foundation. Armstrong realized that although putting resources against treating the disease is the most important thing to do, it is also critical to help patients live strong after they have survived the disease. The Lance Armstrong Foundation just donated $1million dollars to Memorial Sloan Kettering to help them develop a survivorship program. I am thrilled to say that I will be a part of the committee to determine how that money is best spent and what programs need to be developed to help those of us who want to figure out how to adjust back to “normal” when things will never really be normal again. Writing this journal has been so cathartic for me. I feel like although I no longer have cancer, I have so much more to write and express about how this disease has changed, and will continue to change my life. Please continue to follow up on me as I will continue to write.
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