Diane M. Simard's Blog, page 4

Resilience After a Gut-wrenching Business Exit

It is my honor to introduce you to Lee Faaborg of Grand Island, Nebraska, who was inducted into the Nebraska Softball Hall of Fame in December 2021. He managed men’s fast-pitch softball teams for over 25 years, and his teams won 16 league titles, 11 state tournaments, two regional tournaments and one national championship (more on that in a bit).

The past few years for Lee have been rough. After spending most of his career as the senior manager/president of a regional cluster of fast-food restaurants in central Nebraska, he began to feel the squeeze from a new ownership group—his fourth group of owners.

Six months later, he had a major stroke.

A few months after that, he had double bypass heart surgery.

By the end of that year, he made the excruciating decision to take the high road and retire.

Around this time, he learned that his best friend from high school had terminal cancer. One of his other best friends, with whom he had coached a men’s fastpitch softball team, was battling recurring colon cancer. In 2001, their Cinderella team won the national men’s fastpitch softball tournament in Hoosiers fashion.

Lee’s high school friend died in August 2020 and his fellow coach died 364 days later. He eulogized both at their memorial services and brought everyone, including me, to tears.

But then, Lee (back row, third from left in the national championship photo) was notified of his acceptance into the Nebraska Softball Hall of Fame, and we cried again. This time, however, they were tears of joy and thankfulness. He so deserves this recognition.

Life can’t always be explained or understood. However, I believe the essence of living is not about the magnitude of the challenges and resulting traumas we face, but how we deal with them and ultimately persevere.

Lee is the epitome of resilience. He is someone I idolize and admire for so many reasons.

The main reason I adore him is because he is my brother. The one who relentlessly picked on me while growing up but has always been there, encouraging me to never let up.

This holiday season, I pause to give thanks to influencers like Lee who—no matter how difficult the challenge—never cave.

Cheers and blessings to those who urge us to keep moving forward.

The Significance of Being Uniquely You

“Diane’s podcast is remarkable! She is such a gifted writer AND speaker. Yes, she is a gift!”

Dr. Linda Bowman

Dr. Seuss is credited with asking this memorable question:  Why fit in when you were born to stand out?

High five! I fizz with excitement over an opportunity to celebrate novel creativity. Fresh ideas, original forms of expression through sound or art, or innovative approaches to unsolvable problems. Those unexpected breakthroughs that result in “Why didn’t I think of that?” facepalm moments.

Think butter boards, which began having their moment in mid-September, although they have apparently been around for a few years. By now, butter boards are already either loved as a fun—yet dated—bonding experience à la fondue, or loathed as a disgusting, cholesterol-laced, regretful flash in the pan. The immediate question I pondered was whether the butter board fad would finally make bread stylish to eat again.

I don’t strive to emulateor even repurpose something that’s already been done. I’m also not obsessedwith trying to be new or fresh or hip. I work hard at being me. The most memorablyimpactful people in my life are capable, confident, and open-minded. Above all,they accept themselves, me, and others for who we are, not who they think weshould be.

 

When a reporter orpodcaster reaches out to me for a comment on a story or to serve as a guest ontheir podcast, it’s not because I look or sound like every author, influencer,or subject matter expert out there. It’s because I’m taking a different approach.

 

Here is the question I getasked most often:  “Why are you focusingon the psychological impact of cancer when we should be focused on findingcures for the various types of cancer?”

 

I typically smile andcalmly reply with this:  “Because I haveyet to have anyone tell me that focusing on mental health as it pertains tocancer is a really dumb idea. The brain is part of the body, cancer is an extremelytraumatic experience, and our minds—just like the rest of our bodies—deservecompassionate healing.”

 

Do you agree with Dr.Seuss? If so, what makes you memorable? Relevant? Timeless?

My First Date with Tequila

Wanna know what happened the first time I drank tequila? Me too! Oh well, I’ll tell you what I can remember.

It was spring 1984, and my three underage roommates—Carol, Susan, Beth—and I were in our dorm room at Central Community College in Columbus, Nebraska. We had snuck a bottle of tequila into our room and hid it in the toilet tank because no one had ever tried that trick. Our goal was to get primed before a big spring dance in the Fine Arts Theater.

I was on point. I had nailed the polo-under-oxford-shirt look and reached the pinnacle point in my permed hair’s life cycle. I was curled and feathered and ready to go. It was my time to shine.

Tequila shots sounded like a great idea, although I had never heard of such a thing. We watched as Susan cut two limes into wedges, then poured tequila into a shot glass. “Watch and learn,” she said. Then she grabbed a salt shaker, licked her left hand above the thumb, sprinkled salt above her thumb, licked the salt, swallowed the glass of tequila, made a squinchy face, then lunged for a lime wedge and stuck it in her mouth.

I was mesmerized by the complex theatrics. “Di-Di is next!” she proclaimed as she poured another glass.

Instead of requesting additional training, I pushed the throttle full-forward. Much to my roommates’ dismay, I grabbed the shot glass, downed the tequila, picked up a lime wedge and rubbed it above my thumb, then realized I had made a colossal mistake as cheap tequila burned a hole down my throat and into my stomach.

My first tequila shot had gone off-track. However, two more practice rounds and we successfully polished off the entire bottle.

So, what happened after the first time I did tequila shots? We loudly made our way across campus, then whooped it up as we danced to tunes from the Footloose soundtrack and Van Halen’s 1984 album. Then my roomies from 44B talked me into competing in a hula contest before the dance ended. Which I won, thanks to their excessive cheering.

My prize? A pineapple.

It was a sluggish, less-chirpy slog back to the dorm that night, topped only by the appropriate misery that greeted the residents of Room 44 the next morning.

¡Salud!

Let the Pumpkin Wars Begin

“Middle-age Moxie is a great blog! Filled with wonderful examples of life lessons.”

Beverly Vote
Publisher, Breast Cancer Wellness magazine

First off, thank you for your ambitious responses to my last post about what stuff resides in our garage. Given your excitement, for a fleeting moment I pondered taking you through the contents of my sock drawer next, but I opted to pass.

So, while grocery shopping in early August, I bought my husband, Rene, his first pumpkin-flavored food item for fall 2022—pumpkin almond milk for his coffee. Just add booze to this delicacy and pour over ice, and I think we’d have a hit.

For pumpkin lovers, there’s nothing like the first taste of pumpkin-whatever of the season. Especially if you go heavy on the nutmeg. Because—and I don’t think I’m alone here—pumpkin puree by itself is bland and borderline flavorless. But if you add those magical fall spices? A transformation of fairy-tale magnitude unfolds.

For fun, I googled “pumpkin recipes” and clicked on House Beautiful’s 40 Pumpkin Recipes to Make All Autumn Long. They claim these recipes were painstakingly curated and are the best pumpkin recipes for 2022. They include:

Pumpkin Pie DipMiso Honey-glazed PumpkinPumpkin Oreo Cheesecake BarsPumpkin Quinoa Turkey ChiliPumpkin Cheesecake CrêpesPumpkin Peanut Butter CupsPumpkin Ice Cream PieSavory Pumpkin QuichePumpkin Pie Skillet BrowniesPumpkin Pie in a JarTurtle Pumpkin Cookie Cups

And the dreaded Pumpkin Pizza with a Cauliflower Crust

Pumpkin is amplified by adding spices like cloves, cinnamon, allspice, and nutmeg. The result is an experience. Which often triggers fond memories. Those recollections lead to happiness and tranquility. Therefore:

Pumpkin = Happiness and Tranquility

What is your spice that gives life all its flavor?

Whaddya think…should we try this again with sardines? Liver? Spam?

To fall flavors,

A Garage Full of Memories

“The world needs all the help and healing we can give it, Diane!”
Diana Whye
LMT/Life & Health Coach

One of the uniquely bizarre facts about me is this:  My husband, Rene, and I have a bar in our garage.

This is not just any garage. It’s a party garage that features leftover I-Love-Me award stuff from his Air Force career, my mother’s red rocking chair from her childhood, antiques, an elliptical, sports memorabilia, a rowing machine, dart board, ping pong table, refrigerator, and a small portable bar. And yes, there’s still room for cars.

Sure, it’s weird, but the space is a fitting homage to our quirky sense of humor, a nod to our heritage, and recognition of the priority Rene and I place on physical fitness. It is, quintessentially, us.

Although some of the party garage’s contents were purchased at antique stores or vintage markets, there are meaningful stories behind some of the items that hang on the walls or are suspended from the ceiling. Below are a few of my favorites:

An original 1922 Nebraska license plate from one of my Grandpa Moravec’s vehicles that he likely drove around on the farm where my cousins, Cindy and Barb, now live. By the way, writing this post helped me realize how special this plate is, so it’s in a much safer place now.

One of the “Air Force Blues” dress shirts Rene wore during his last position before he retired in 2006 as Command Chief Master Sergeant for the 460th Space Wing at (then) Buckley Air Force Base in Aurora, here in Colorado.

Our beloved chocolate lab’s collar and leashes. Our precious Enzo died 11 years ago and I’m still in mourning. His leashes haven’t been touched since our last walk together. And yes, I’m crying.

The antler mount from a 5X6 buck my father shot in 1967 that filled our freezer with deer meat for the winter. A photo of “The Dancing Simards,” circa 1968. The girls were in ballet and the boys took tap dancing classes. It’s easy to see why this is my all-time favorite photo of Rene and his siblings. From left: Cindy, Paul, Catherine, and Rene. A framed poster of a black Mercedes Benz e55. I bought myself the very same model of Mercedes in 2005 as a divorce gift to myself, and I still drive it. And yes, it’s a money pit. And no, it still hasn’t reached 100,000 miles. The actual fireman’s helmet that my oldest brother, Randy, wore during some of the 35 or so years he has served as the Fire Chief for the all-volunteer fire department in Elba, Nebraska, which has a population of 268. He sent the helmet to me as a gift around the time I was going through cancer. What an incredibly selfless man he is. And yes, he’s still Elba’s Fire Chief. Uh-oh, I’m crying again. My red AMF Junior tricycle. I likely circled the globe multiple times, given all the miles I pedaled on that trike. It didn’t maneuver well on Cotesfield’s gravel roads and I tipped over plenty of times while attempting to traverse garden hoses, but I took full advantage of the sidewalks around our house.

In one of my favorite scenes from the 2000 Academy award-winning film, American Beauty, Kevin Spacey’s character gets chastised by his wife, portrayed by Annette Bening, for nearly spilling beer on their $4,000 Italian silk couch. He gets angry, grabs a pillow and hits the couch with the pillow as he emphasizes every word, screaming, “It’s just a couch!” Then he calms down and says, “This isn’t life. This is just stuff.”

There is truth in his observation—at least to some degree. Some of the most precious stuff we have is on display in our garage because it helps us remember sentimental moments in our lives.

Those moments deserve a place other than in a box in the basement. Even if it is in the garage.

To everyone’s treasured memories…

Summer Surprises Revealed

We are halfway through THE YEAR.

The year of our unprecedented comeback. The year facemasks came off, although I still carry one with me just in case. I fished it out the other day from the bottom of my purse because I had to mask up to enter the Breast Center at Parker Adventist Hospital for my annual mammogram.  

Guess what. My mask has become a hair magnet! Which is okay—at least I’ve got hair collecting at the bottom of my purse as opposed to seven summers ago when I spent the summer bald from chemo.

By the way, I passed my mammogram with flying colors. Woo-hoo! No sweeter words were ever dictated than these:

Summer 2022? We are where we are. Expensive airplane flights, expensive gasoline, stock market back in the crapper. Recession, inflation, deflation, stagflation, a raccoon family has made our backyard their home, and Rene and I have moved to the basement of our house to escape the heat.

We have been down this road before, but this year feels different. I have morphed into a prodigy pivoter. No, I’m not talking about the type of pivots that water fields of crops. Rather, I have mastered the ability to implement changes on the fly, applying finesse, adaptability, creativity, patience, and at times, parenting skills.

Drum Roll, Please….

Here’s big life change and summer surprise number one:  I am no longer working a corporate job. Yep, I am 100% planning and jamming on my next career chapter!

What’s my focus? Discovering, educating, and sharing the unlikely gifts that result from addressing adversity head-on and channeling challenges into impact. I believe there are unlikely gifts in every circumstance. But they need to be handled with intention.

And how will I earn a living doing this? In less than a month, I have discovered some surprisingly creative ways. They include serving as a patient advisor, participating in focus groups, writing editorials and articles for busy senior executives, creating community partnerships (sponsorships) for my messaging, and receiving speaking fees when I give motivational talks.

 

All the content I produce will be under the umbrella of Unlikely Gift Productions. Unlikely Gifts will be a recurring theme in most all I do.

Beginning August 14, you’ll be hearing from me twice a month via email.

You’ll receive a mid-month Sunday morning email newsletter titled Unlikely Gifts Insider, consisting of snippets of info on a variety of topics ranging from mental health wellbeing for cancer patients, survivors, and caregivers to upcoming events to recommendations.

On the last Sunday morning of each month, you’ll continue to receive my monthly blog, Middle-age Moxie, featuring original stories and content from me.

The monthly Unlikely Gifts Podcast with Diane M. Simard will debut on Sunday, September 11. We began recording episodes in early June, so we’re well on our way. Bonus tease:  My producer/sidekick’s name is Larry King…same name, different guy. He’s tons of fun!

There’s more projects in the concept stage, but I’ll share those deets in future editions of the Unlikely Gifts Insider.  

Life is all about giving back, and I’ve got lots of catching up to do.

To summer fun!

Life Sure Isn’t for Sissies

My Best Failures and The Rebrand of Me

“The only man who never makes mistakes is the man who never does anything.”

-Theodore Roosevelt, 26th President of the United States

Without a doubt, my greatest moments of enlightenment have come after a major disaster, mistake, missed goal, or all-around complete screw-up.

A self-admitted perfectionist, failure is difficult—and usually not an option—in my book of self-governing rules. I don’t participate in competitive sports because I’m not very good at them. They are unnecessary torture. But I enjoy watching competitive sports because I can multi-task while watching, like reading, exercising or eating. I’ve always gotta be doing something productive, even while relaxing.

But my all-time best failures are categorized not by the magnitude of embarrassment, but by the value of what I learned from them. Here goes:

Monday afternoon club in college. During my time at Kearney State College, which is now University of Nebraska-Kearney, I worked at an insurance office on weekday afternoons. The office manager and I thought we would be envied by all if we made Monday nights our big party night of the week. Which, in the end, was dumb. I started messing up at work, and one day one of the insurance agents in the office suggested I stop partying on Monday nights and start paying more attention to the quality of my work. That sobered me up. Quick.Not being selected for Chorale singing group. I got served a dose of humble pie a few weeks before graduating from high school when I was not selected for a singing group at Central Community College in Columbus, Nebraska. My brother, Lee, had been in the group and I thought I was a shoe-in. But I didn’t get selected based on the fact my voice didn’t blend well enough with the others. It was my first big defeat in life, but after a few days of processing I let it go. Then I auditioned again the following year and was selected.Being on the board of a bank that failed. Wrong place, wrong time. The bank’s failure was a culmination of many factors, but the most frustrating part was it failed for reasons that many of those on the board besides myself warned management about. I now call those experiences “expensive lessons.”The quote heard ‘round the world. Those who have read The Unlikely Gift of Breast Cancer might remember this story, but I did not understand the importance of failure until a few days after I was diagnosed. We knew I had cancer but did not yet know whether it had already spread past the lymph nodes in my left armpit. While I was relaxing in an easy chair in a private room at Parker Adventist Hospital, waiting for the radioactive medicine with glucose tracer to travel throughout my body before having a PET scan, I was leafing through a magazine of new age products when I stumbled across this quote:

 

That moment forever changed my attitude about failure. I no longer see events in my life as successes or failures. Instead, I focus on the process of living. And learning. Perpetually learning.

Thank You for Supporting Women of Influence

Big fun was had at the April 27 Women of Influence luncheon hosted by the Castle Rock Chamber of Commerce! I was truly honored to be the event’s keynote speaker. My sincere thanks to all of you who attended, and a special thanks to my husband, Rene, for once again entertaining the crowd with his “Command Chief salute.”

New Psycho-oncology Study Results

Blue Note Therapeutics, a digital therapeutics company I am advising, recently released results from a study providing the largest, most comprehensive assessment to date of the impact of cancer-related anxiety and depression on healthcare costs for elderly patients. The study, in which over 230,000 Medicare patients participated, found that the annual incremental healthcare costs of cancer-related anxiety and depression are estimated to be nearly $17,500 per patient.

Some other important data points:

There are about 18 million cancer patients and survivors in the U.S. today.Nearly half of all cancer patients experience psychosocial distress, anxiety, or depression.If left untreated, these feelings can lower a cancer survivor’s quality of life and may negatively affect survival.Fewer than half of patients who experience cancer-related distress are referred to mental health care specialists.Prescription digital therapeutics are a therapeutic class of medical devices that use U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) approvable software to treat diseases and conditions such as anxiety and depression related to cancer diagnosis and treatment.

Attention, Kmart Shoppers

Okay, this is depressing. After a Kmart store in Avenel, New Jersey, closed its doors for good on April 16, there are now only three Kmarts left in the continental U.S. and a handful of stores elsewhere. The first Kmart discount department store opened in 1962 in Garden City, Michigan, and at its peak the chain had over 2,000 stores.

Farewell, Blue Light Specials…

The Launch of the Rebranded Me

On a brighter note, late last year I embarked on a makeover of my personal brand—who and why I am. The process of defining myself has been one of the most intense, complex projects I have tackled!

Below is a sampling of my evolution. If you have thoughts or suggestions, feel free to Reply to this post and share your thoughts (your reply email will come only to me). Or, reach out directly to me at Diane@DianeMSimard.com.

Description:

Diane M. Simard guides those impacted by cancer to overcome anxieties, fears and other roadblocks that prevent them from achieving a healthy, rewarding life and career. Her inquisitive personality, wit, and impactful writing skills help her steer followers to re-discover themselves again through her authentic leadership abilities and inspirational education curricula.

Mission:

To create and deliver comfort to those traumatized by the horrors of cancer and other harrowing life experiences.

Who is Diane M. Simard:

Diane M. Simard is an authentic woman of action and results-driven connector who steers followers to acknowledge and address their emotional scars. By living a disciplined, structured life, she listens intently more than she speaks; she confidently exudes gratitude, positivity, and joy; and she strategically strives to squeeze every ounce of productivity out of every day. She also creates and delivers comfort by celebrating the unlikely gifts in every circumstance.

Well, there you have it. I have stumbled, experienced disappointment, and endured rejection. And I am a happier, more conscious person because of my many failures. I don’t profess to have all the answers, but I look forward to helping others discover our answers together.

Thank you for being a part of my journey!

Until next time,

Springtime and Baby Chicks in the Mail

“(Diane’s blog was) a lovely way to start my Sunday. Thanks for making a difference in this great big world, friend!” Rick Crandall, Executive Director Colorado Freedom Memorial Foundation

Oh, the allure of early spring.

Those fresh, brisk, promising mornings of pastel…peeps. Like the baby chick kind of incessant peeping.

More about that in a moment.

Grandma Moravec

First, an introduction to my late grandma Moravec who, along with grandpa Moravec, were significant influencers during my formative years since they babysat me while mom either taught school or took summer classes. Grandma was our go-to Einstein who always got the call when something went awry, a pet was sick, or we just didn’t know what else to do.

To set the scene, my paternal grandmother, Helen Nell Pliva Moravec, was a full-blooded Czech and damn proud of it. Think of a stocky eastern European woman with her babushka (scarf) tied tightly beneath her chin, framing the ever-present scowl. Then, put a jolly smile on that full face and you’d have my grandma Moravec.

While grandpa Moravec was a quiet mystery, someone you hardly even knew was there, grandma—similar to her son, my Uncle Frankie Moravec—was the life of the party. Nobody ever messed with grandma, or she’d lop your head off on the bloody tree stump with the dull axe she used to cut off chicken’s heads on butchering day, then throw you in the boiling water, too, feathers and all. She was the one relegated to do the chicken butchering and fish massacring, but she was constantly smiling.

However, I remember grandma most as an amazing cook.

Czech main dishes have five primary ingredients: lard, flour, eggs, salt and some type of meat from a sacrificed critter from the chicken coop, county fair, or Uncle Frankie’s cow pond. A few hours before mealtime, grandma would take a package of meat out one of her three freezers and set it on the counter to defrost.

When it was time to cook, she would flop each piece of meat around in egg wash, then dredge it in flour/salt/pepper, then crowd it in with other pieces of meat in a pre-heated fry pan of lard approaching the boiling point. No steaming or baking here.

Next, she would reach for the 2 lb. paper bag of Morton’s salt from under the kitchen sink, scoop out a generous handful, and release hearty portions of salt from her fingers over each piece of meat. A few minutes later, she would turn over each piece with a fork, reach for another handful of salt, and release the same amount of salt on the other side. Pure sodium chloride bliss.

For those who are unfamiliar with lard, here’s the low-down. Generally, lard is fat from the abdomen of a pig that is rendered and clarified for use in cooking. We used to be able to find it in the big glass jar under grandma’s kitchen sink. Think Crisco, but lumpy and a nearly-translucent creamy-yellow color. Killer pie crust!

Squawking Chicks

In the spring, one of life’s little miracles would unfold at grandma and grandpa’s. Her annual shipment of baby chicks would arrive in the mail. Seriously. In the mail. The arrival of the big box of chicks was just one of the many reasons it was great that dad was our town’s mail carrier. I remember one year he took me to the Cotesfield Post Office to sort mail when the chicks arrived. In the corner of the damp, dusky wooden Post Office was a cardboard box with air holes, about 4 feet wide by 3 feet deep by 1 foot tall. And it was chirping! Do you have any idea how much noise one cardboard box full of two-day old baby chicks makes? It is deafening.

The reason why new-born baby chicks can be delivered through the mail is because for the first 3 days of their life they are still ingesting their yolk sacs, a membranous sac that provides early nourishment in the form of yolk in a variety of species, including birds.

Once the box full of chicks was delivered to grandma’s house she took them straight to their dedicated chick coop, complete with fresh straw on the floor and multiple overhead heat lamps to keep them warm. Grandma would feed them some type of chick food mash that reminded me of wet Grape Nuts cereal. They would walk through their food dishes and water dishes, traipsing water and goo and straw wherever they went. They were fuzzy, yellow, chirpy creatures that—like puppies and kittens—stayed cute for about a week.

And then spring was over.

There’s much more non-spring info to share, so it’s speed-round time. Here we go!

Advocacy Activity

In early March I participated in a three-day workshop called “Soul Speaks from the Stage,” part of the marketing mastermind I referenced a few months back. We learned about speaking circles and how making individual eye contact with members of the audience while speaking helps make public speaking more soulful and meaningful. I told four stories over the three days, culminating in an 8-minute story the final day that explained why I believe cancer’s emotional scars deserve tailored, intuitive healing opportunities. It was an emotionally triumphant experience, to say the least.

A week later, Rene and I flew to Las Vegas, where I participated in The New Pink Paradigm one-day summit as a founding member of the Survivors Committee for the National Consortium of Breast Centers’ annual symposium. In addition to speaking on a panel about the psychologically traumatizing effects of breast cancer, I learned about progressive technologies and strategies for improving the detection, treatment, and post-treatment of breast cancer.In one of the sessions, a radiologist who is advocating for increased use of artificial intelligence algorithms to improve breast tumor detection presented this sobering illustration. He said that trying to locate potential breast tumors on a mammogram is like trying to find a soccer ball hidden among a bunch of pandas. Take a moment to zoom in on the photo to see what he means.

Yikes! I am grateful to the other founding members on the Survivors Committee who are breast cancer leaders and advocates. Here’s a wonderful website for an organization founded by Dr. Laura Carfang, a fellow founder, that offers a wealth of online breast cancer educational information and support opportunities, ranging from podcasts to yoga to book clubs:  www.survivingbreastcancer.org

Speaking Gig in Castle Rock – and You’re Invited!

For those in the Denver area who might be interested in attending, I will be the keynote speaker at the Castle Rock Chamber of Commerce’s spring Women of Influence Luncheon on Wednesday, April 27, at The Oaks, 321 Players Club Drive, in Castle Rock. Although there is a cost involved, this one will be fun, and I promise to bring my A game! More info, including registration details, here: 

https://business.castlerock.org/events/details/women-of-influence-luncheon-4909

Prayers for Peace

In closing, spring rekindles our hope, but this year’s spring is also heartbreaking. Prayers of peace for the citizens of Ukraine who have been invaded and violated in unthinkable ways. Their stories of courage, grit, and determination are once again a reminder of our world’s fragility and the seemingly endless tests of our faith.

Like the tulips that will soon peek through the soil to remind us another season of renewal is here, I believe these struggles — in all their sadness and grief — also build resilience. Resilience and the belief in the strength of unity.

We are in this together. And for that, I am exceedingly grateful.

To springtime,

My Psycho-oncology Wake-up Call

Rene and I enjoyed getting away in early February on our first trip in two-and-a-half years flying on an airplane, this time to Phoenix (Glendale) for a work conference for him. I tagged along and Zoomed, worked on spreadsheets, and answered emails the entire time from our hotel room. Definitely not a vacation, but the change in scenery and view of palm trees outside our hotel window was great.

The night we arrived in Phoenix, Rene and I spoke via Zoom to seven PsyD students in the Intro to Psychosocial Oncology class offered this quarter by the University of Denver’s Graduate School of Professional Psychology (GSPP). This is the first in the Center for Oncology Psychology (COPE)’s series of four classes that I founded way back when, and it was our third opportunity to share our stories with the intro class taught by Dr. Caroline Scheiber. Dr. Scheiber is a Stanford-trained clinical psychologist who specializes in working with individuals and family members who suffer from serious medical conditions such as cancer.

For 90 minutes that evening, Rene and I shared our recollection of the nightmare that began February 10, 2015, the day I was diagnosed with late Stage III breast cancer. He was the practical one who spoke to the class eloquently, following prepared notes. I, on the other hand, winged it. I can’t bring myself to prepare for these presentations anymore, because I go where the students and their questions take me. To a genuine place of honesty and pain and melancholy. Rene and I covered miles of territory, and when our time with the class was over, I confided to him that I honestly didn’t know who had benefitted more.

Speaking of COPE, I checked in with the University of Denver recently (thank you, Ashley Haliko!), and a whopping 163 students took one or more of COPE’s healthy/oncology psychology-related courses between fall 2015 and winter 2022. You have been introduced to several of those students through my column, some of whom have now completed their PsyD degrees.

The moral to this story is that most everyone I interact with these days is more highly educated than me, I don’t use notes, and I’m achieving some of my greatest moments of self-actualization when I’m far, far from home.

I have accidentally morphed into a “psycho-oncology influencer.” And honestly, I have never felt more authentic and alive.

Wait—what is “Psycho-oncology?”

A variety of terms are used, sometimes inter-changeably, to refer to the interdisciplinary field that intersects the physical, psychological, social, and behavioral aspects of cancer for patients, survivors, and caregivers. I use the term psycho-oncology, but the field is also known as psychiatric oncology, psychosocial oncology, oncology psychology, cancer psychology, and on and on.

For those interested in going deeper on psycho-oncology, I overwhelmingly recommend The Human Side of Cancer by the late Jimmie Holland, M.D., who is credited with pioneering the study of cancer’s psychological challenges. Dr. Holland’s book is insightful, comforting, and easy to understand.

An Update and Request from Molly Rosado

Do you remember delightful Molly Rosado, the undergrad psych major I highlighted in my January and May 2021 columns? We connected because she had an ovarian cancer scare at age 19 that ultimately prompted her to want to study psycho-oncology. Well, she is finishing up a busy final semester at Robert Morris University near Pittsburgh, and she has been accepted into the university’s Counseling Psychology Master’s Program! In addition, she was offered a job as a first-year admissions counselor for Robert Morris. Future plans include continuing on to earn her PhD in psycho-oncology. I feel like a proud mom!

Anyway, one of the reasons Molly reached out was to ask for our assistance with her undergraduate thesis, which is to analyze anxiety levels among various age groups of current and post-treatment cancer patients, seeking patterns within gender, age, and medical status. For those of you who have experienced cancer, I would be so grateful for your participation in this anonymous, brief survey. I completed it in about five minutes. Here’s the survey link:  https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/AnxietyandCancer

Thank you, thank you in advance for providing valuable input to assist in the education of our future psycho-oncology leaders and to help bring more attention and resources to the deficit of mental health services for those impacted by cancer within our healthcare system.

Cheers to the Courageous Warriors

Feb. 24 was premiere movie night in the Simard household! My sincere thanks to those who tuned in to watch the streaming premiere of Courageous Warriors:  Beauty from the Ashes. This award-winning independent documentary film was a labor of love for Darla Rae, who captured the stories of breast cancer survivors determined to channel their experiences through art, nature, therapy, and education.  

Part of the proceeds from the film premiere will go to the Ray of Hope Colorado Cancer Foundation’s mental health support program. Phase one of the program, which launched a few weeks ago, is a pilot to gather data about the outcomes of individualized mental therapy for Coloradoans impacted by cancer. For the past 18 or so months, I have been working closely with Ray of Hope’s Executive Director, Audra Fleming, to bring this program to life. Audra, her staff, her board, and several committee volunteers have done most of the heavy lifting, and it has been an honor for me to make intros, advise, and advocate along the way. Audra recently let me know that the list of therapists available through the pilot program has become a popular resource for those seeking help for cancer-related distress, and it’s not just for those who want to apply for a Ray of Hope mental health support grant.

Here again is the website for the list of therapists – please share with anyone you know who might be seeking this type of support:  https://rayofhopecolorado.org/listoftherapists/

Thank you! Much more to follow about this significant initiative.

 

Happy Anniversary, Rene

Before I go, a shout-out to my soulmate and husband, Rene. We’ll be celebrating 11 years of wedded bliss on March 13, and I’m so grateful our paths crossed all those years ago. Here we are on our wedding day at Sprague Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park.

Rene is experiencing his own year of enlightenment, creating an innovative Emerging Leaders program that will launch in 2023 through the Aurora (Colorado) Chamber of Commerce. It will be a complementary program to the Leadership Aurora program he already manages, and I can’t wait to see how he helps our future business leaders develop and grow.

You see, Rene is much more than a craft beer-loving New Englander. He is a human border collie who was placed on this earth to herd and guide others to achieve their greatest potential. It fills my heart to watch him culminate a career of military and civilian organizational leadership with this opportunity.

Life truly does become what you make it.

To generating YOUR inspiration from within,