Another Angel in Heaven

Robin Rozier Groff April 4th, 1977- April 11th, 2008

I have been sitting here trying to find the right words to say. When we lost Robin, we lost a beautiful daughter, a loving mother, a loyal sister, a dear wife and an amazing friend. Robin and I both went through two marrow transplants and we planned on surviving this ordeal together. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She was full of life. I am too heartbroken to write anything more.


Here is the message from the updates on Robin Groff’s website .

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Family and Friends- after a courageous battle, Robin went home to live with our Heavenly Father tonight. None of us ever wanted this day to come, but we find peace knowing that she is free of this terrible illness and surrounded by family and friends who have preceded her in death. Thank you so much for all of the love, prayers, thoughts, cards, emails, etc. over the past 2 1/2 years that have meant so much to Robin, Jason, Hailey, and our extended family. I will update the website as funeral arrangements are finalized.

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Please pray for Robin and her family, especially for her little girl, Hailey.

Wonderful News!!!!!

I have some wonderful news to share!

Each year, City of Hope nominates and then selects two "exemplary" Bone Marrow Transplant survivors for the Press Conference at their annual "HCT Reunion - Celebration of Life" event. I just recently found out that I am one of the lucky two! There will be interviews and speeches but all that pales in comparison to the fact that City of Hope is flying out my donor ALL THE WAY FROM CHINA! My donor and I will meet face to face for the very first time in front of TV News cameras. I can't even imagine... meeting the man who gave me my life back and whose marrow is in my bones and whose very blood flows through my veins.

The event occurs in three weeks (Friday, April 25th) from 10am to 2pm on the City of Hope grounds. In addition to the press conference, there will be thousands of survivors and families in attendance. The event is like a picnic gone wild, with food, games, music and inspirational speeches from survivors and City of Hope doctors. It is a very positive, life-affirming experience. Imagine being surrounded by thousands of people who are grateful to be alive. :)

My parents are flying in from New York to meet Kent (my donor). A small entourage is already assembling who want to meet (and HUG!) the man who was my only hope.

These are photos from previous reunions. I like to think of this one as the grand finale, the final chapter, the end shot of a film. A Happy Hollywood ending to this Lifetime movie drama. I hope this will be my last appearance on TV as a "cancer survivor". (Frankly, if I were to be on TV again, I'd rather it be for other reasons!)


This is the moment we had been praying for all along.
Miracles DO happen.


Much Love,
Christine

This Woman's Work

This is a personal thing that I don't think I've ever shared with anyone really. After hearing this Kate Bush song over the weekend, I came across the video on youtube. I feel enough years have gone by and enough has happened, (not just in my world but in the worlds of my friends and family) to warrant a posting. The video is a bit dated, but in the words of the song, the message is still the same.

Listening to this song helped me through the loss of my brother Francis Rex. To this day it continues to remind me that life is finite, thus cherish the moments and the people in your life... before it is too late.

love,
Christine

Atomic Jitterbombs!

And now, I introduce my young friend Charisse who will be swinging with her team, the Atomic Jitterbombs at the Dance-a-Thon for City of Hope this Saturday March 8. Charisse will endure 24 hours of swinging, jitterbugging and possible potassium deficiency, all in the name of fighting cancer. Please help support this awesome gal reach her fundraising goal!

Here are excerpts from Charisse’s letter where she was trying to get herself psyched up despite the fact that she really can’t dance at all.

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I mean, really, Charisse --Having had the most influential and intriguing and inspiring people in your life battle with cancer themselves, ok... so you know you're not the best swinger, you're NOT the hippest cat, you're actually barely in the "swing-kitten" stage of things, you’re a clumsy little walker, you might even make a fool of yourself trying to dance for 24 hours with some of the greats, BUT you can take this on with the eye of a swing tiger, darn tootin'!!!

Charisse, this is for your family and family friends that passed: tita Ligaya, tita Carol, tito Conrad. They will never be forgotten! "This is for the people who taught you what love is! For your friends who press on with the most awe-inspiring perseverance: Christian (from grade school), Christine (a beautiful woman with the most amazingly mindful and unique perspective on life ...a great filmmaker and the truest friend you could ever ask for... someone who would call around at 2am for you just to help get your skits put together in time for class the next day, and who throws such fun parties, and is so much more alive than life...), this is for your Bobby... (who taught me so much about the value of life and trust, and God and faith... who taught me how to swing dance... who makes me want to be a better person on and off the dance floor...) this is for them... "You, can do this charisse... YOU CAN DO THIS, GIRL!!!!" ...

(to my team captain, i say) "YES, SIGN ME UP! My personal goal is $1000!!!" ... (Crowds cheer)... Then I realized that I have only exactly ONE WEEK to "gitderdone." (aAaAaaAAAAaAAAaaAAhh!!)

So here's the deal, I need your help. If you're stripped for cash, you can still tell your friends who might be better off right now. So, please please help! Please forward this email, let people know!

Please donate under my name, Charisse Mordeno, my team is called "The Atomic Jitterbombs!" ...

ALSO, if you're free next weekend, please, come join in on the festivities, it's an entire weekend of swing... free lessons, and if nothing else, it'll be a greeeeeeeeat show... the really good ones are reeeeeeally good.

THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart.

--Charisse

Positively Negative

I had to undergo the big scary PET/CAT Scans the other day. It’s hard to believe that 20 months have passed since the transplant. There’s a period of nerves as the scan date approaches, and then noxious anxiety when waiting for the results. When you’re a patient, you know it’s bad if the doctor is giving you too much concern and attention. But when a doctor practically blows in and out of the room…

Here’s how it went:

Doc: (As he walks into the room) Negative. Negative. Negative.*
Me: Negative?
Doc: Everything’s negative.
Me: I’m still cancer free!
Doc: You’re as cancer free as the rest of us.
Me: “Yeeuuhh!”
[We hug]
Doc: (As he walks out of the room) Congratulations kid. You’re doing good.

- Winner for the shortest, sweetest doc appointment I’ve ever had! -


Much love,
Christine


*Negative is a good thing in cancerspeak. It means that your scans are clear. A “positive” means that something has positively shown up on your scans. That’s not good. When it comes to scans, it is the only time everyone wants to be viewed negatively. =)

Glenn And Marketa

Glenn Hansard and Marketa Irglova received the Oscar for the song "Falling Slowly" from the movie 'Once' !!

Yay! I am so thrilled and and happy for them!!! Why do I mention this in my blog about surviving cancer? I have a secret to share.

For most of 2007, I was bed-ridden recovering from the bone-marrow transplant and a draining year in the hospital. Most of my time was spent shuttling back and forth from hospitals to doctor offices, then back to my apartment where I spent endless days a prisoner of low blood counts and fatigue.

One of the things that got me through this challenging period was music. But it was the soundtrack from the movie "Once" that I would play over and over again, carrying me through my most difficult times.

I have had many miracles happen in my life over the last two years and one of them was to be able to thank Glenn and Marketa for their indelible music, in person. I wasn't successful in holding back my tears, and neither was Glenn. I was shaking with gratitude as we gave/received the most heartfelt, loving, raw, pure, and fervid hug the world has ever seen. It felt like I finally made it home.


Thank you Glenn and Marketa, for reminding us that we are all truly bound together by hope.

Hugs,
Christine

I Love Man in a Uniform

There is nothing like spending the day with LA’s Finest.

In an effort to find my friend Jerome Williams a much-needed donor, Project Africa Global spearheaded another marrow drive, this time at the Crenshaw Christian Center.

The LAPD and LAFD were having a recruitment day and thanks to LAPD Officer Joseph, who became aware of Jerome’s plight during the F.A.M.E. marrow drive, we descended upon a parking field full of young healthy recruits: perfect candidates for donating marrow.

The place was teeming with men in uniform. Most all of them were armed. I figured we were in the safest parking lot in Los Angeles that day. SWAT vans, helicopters, fire trucks, tanks and plenty of police cars also surrounded us. That meant, of course that there was plenty of giggling as we commandeered one vehicle after another.


During the drive I met a few strapping firemen. Captain Johnson let me try on his firefighting clothes. I was completely swallowed up under all the material! Along with the oxygen tank strapped to my back, everything weighed close to 100 lbs! Thinking about wearing all that gear and then running into a burning building… I have so much MORE respect now for what firemen do.

Cliff Okada from Asians for Miracle Marrow Matches stayed until the very end. While other booths had packed up and gone home, Cliff hung around to make sure that he’d be available to every last possible donor. He’s so awesome.

It turned out that many of the policemen and firemen were already signed up on the marrow registry! Yay! Noting his African-American heritage, one officer said, “It’s another way that I can help my community.” Another officer stated, “This is another way that I can help save someone’s life.” These guys are already taking bullets and charging into infernos. They don’t have to do this. But they sign-up anyway, because they know it’s the right thing to do. That’s hot.

The day ended with several more donors added to the registry, but the NMDP remains terribly lacking. For every patient that locates a potential donor, there are four who do not and thus never even get the chance to fight. Every registry counts. There's more than one way to be a Hero.

Fight On.

"Why I Write"

This essay was originally posted on the old "savechristine.com" website. As most of you know, the website was lost when our host server was attacked by a malicious virus. I will be reposting some sections/writings from the old website for posterity sake. And also, that we may continue what we started. The marrow registry remains lacking in minority donors. There are still many other cancer patients searching for their miracle.

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“Why I Write”

I found out last night that another one of my cancer buddies has passed away. Struggling in my own fight, I neglected to ask about her. The news came from a friend who is also a survivor and who also sadly did not realize that Maria had lost her battle months before.

Maria was beautiful, even under fluorescent lights: a mocha skinned Latina with deep brown eyes. I first met Maria when her wheelchair was pushed next to mine, in the basement of a hospital, waiting in the hallway for our turn in the radiation room. We were both slouched over under the weight of nausea and exhaustion. Her hands were collapsed in her lap and by the heaviness of her small frame, I could tell she had been crying. In that moment, we became comrades fighting the same war. We were both terribly frightened.

After staring down at the speckled linoleum for some time, we instinctively turned to one other. “Doesn’t this suck?” Her voice broke apart into sobs as she spoke the words. I remember looking at her and seeing myself: A young woman in an old hospital gown. Scared. Cold. Alone. Afraid to die. Wondering what she did wrong to be punished like this. Begging God for a reprieve and pissed off at the rest of the world. It was 8:00am on a Tuesday. Most women our age were rushing off to work, going to class or seeing their kids off to school. Not us. They were alive and we were dying. It was so unfair. Acting maniacally optimistic, I slapped on a smile and rambled about how this was all temporary and this was what we needed to do to get well again. Maria just pursed her lips and half-nodded half-shook her head. The technicians came to wheel us to our respective radiation machines. We wished each other good luck. Less than one month later, Maria was gone. She never saw her 25th Birthday.

What is the meaning of life? Love. Why do we exist? To express this love.
Nothing else matters. Nothing.

Each one of us has been given a gift to give, a song to sing to this world. A doctor heals, a mother cares, a farmer feeds, a teacher inspires. Each one of us affects every one of us. And the love you give is the legacy you leave behind, and is the only part of you that lives forever. I am not a scientist or an architect. I cannot fix cars nor defend the innocent. I sing off-key and I am mediocre at sports. I don’t know if I am a good writer, but I do know that people have been moved by my words.

I have been writing since the age of 10, when I opened my first diary, but I never shared what I wrote. I kept every word, every poem to myself. I was afraid of being rejected. After I was diagnosed, I experienced a fear far worse than rejection, and that was the fear of never being heard. Of dying before you had had your chance to sing your song. So from my hospital bed, I began to share my words and poems and then the most wondrous thing happened: All the love I gave came right back to me. There was the day when an elderly man tearfully approached and sighed, “You wrote what I felt but couldn’t say”. There was the night when a girl Maria’s age hugged me and whispered, “Your words saved me.” She touched her belly and went on to share how she went from wanting to take her own life, to wanting to bring life into this world.

I made a promise to God and to myself that if I survived my illness, I would give all the love I could with whatever talent He has given me. Everyone has a song to sing. And this is mine.


Christine Pechera

SUNDANCE 1

I'm finally in the papers for something other than cancer! Woo hoo!
Too bad I have no make-up on. Boo hoo! (j/k)

Ruben V. Nepales writes about the Sundance Film Festival and I happen to be in the picture.

Click HERE to see the article.

Will share more details about the festival later!


Life is good,
Christine

Hope Begins in the Dark

Happy New Year everyone! Just got back in town. Lots to catch up on.

Healthwise, I'm doing okay. The GVH is back under control but still a bit shakey. My hair continues to grow in. (I actually have bangs now!) In a few weeks, I'll be celebrating a Birthday I thought I would never see. So thankful. It's been a long hard road but to be home and alive at 18 months post-transplant is not a bad place to be. I don't think you can get anymore extreme experiences: to be completely alone, locked away in a hospital room one year and then dancing in the middle of Times Square the next. What a blessed journey this has been! I hope everyone's New Year is going off to a good start. :)


This month sees the release of a new book by Jamie Reno; a staff writer at Newsweek and a Lymphoma survivor. In an effort to reach out to the newly diagnosed and to shed light on the patient perspective, Jamie interviewed 50 Lymphoma survivors ranging from CEOs to homemakers, doctors and soldiers, rock stars and PHDs. I'm story #15.

The survivors and stories in "Hope Begins in the Dark" are truly inspiring. The fact that they can all be found in one place is an incredible achievement and is a remarkable gift for all of us. The book was forged from survivors' own words in hopes of connecting those who have made it through the cancer journey to those who are just beginning their first steps. For anyone affected by Lymphoma, it is a must read.

Jamie secured a grant whereby he can give free copies of the book to
hospitals, support groups, patients, doctors and advocates. If you know anyone who you feel would benefit from this wonderful program, please feel free to forward the website.

Any proceeds from the book goes towards finding a cure.

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I received this e-mail recently and wanted to share. This comes from a man who has been through so much himself and yet found the courage to see past his own problems and help another human being:


Hello and Happy New Year!

As many of you may already know, I have been determined to be a donor match for a 10 year old boy with a life threatening illness. I entered the bone marrow registry less than a year ago through a drive being held by at the church of one of my drum students here in Simi
Valley. The drive was held to find a match for a women in their congregation who unfortunately passed away before one could be found.

In mid-November, I was contacted by the National Marrow Donor Program as a possible match along with 3 others for this boy. After further testing, it was determined that I was a match for all six antigens and was asked to give either bone marrow or stem cells. As it turns out I will be giving stem cells which in the case of the young boy are more beneficial. I am honored with this opportunity and take the responsibility very seriously.

The donation is scheduled for January 8th. On Friday 1/4/08, I will
begin daily injections of Filgristan, a drug to increase my stem cell
production. I will have only minor discomfort during this time and
expect to be able to continue to work. At the same time the boy will
begin receiving massive doses of chemotherapy which he will likely not survive should I become unable to donate for reasons such as becoming ill etc. This is a risk his family has decided to take considering the severity of his condition.

The donor/collection will take place at UCLA Medical Center. I will
have have blood taken from one arm and cycled through a machine that will extract my stem cells then cycle my blood back through my other arm. This will take only 6 to 8 hours and leave me a little tired, however, ready for work the next day.

I ask that each of you pray for my health leading up the donation and more importantly the health of the young boy leading up to and especially following the stem cell donation. His recovery period will be approximately 1 year. I hope it is Gods will to save the young life of this boy. I was told by the National Marrow Donor organization that the odds for him finding a match were similar to the odds of winning the lottery.

Please visit the National Marrow Donor site at marrow.org to find a donor event. It takes a few short minutes to become part of their registry, just a swab from your cheek. There are over 60,000 people at any given week in the U.S. waiting for a donor match and anyone can make a difference in someone else's life.

H.A.

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Continue the Love.....


Christine

Merry Christmas

Last Christmas I was sick and stuck in a hospital room. This Christmas I am walking in the New York holiday magic and singing along to carols in Rockefeller Center. I'm counting my blessings.


Here's my dorky gift: An attempt to identify the musicians in "Do They Know It's Christmas?" I've always loved this song.




I don’t recognize EVERYONE but this is what i do know (or at least i think i know):

0:05 Bob Geldof (Boomtown Rats)
0:10 John Taylor (DuranDuran)
0:12 Sting (The Police)
0:15-Paul Young
0:31-Boy George (Culture Club)
0:46 Phil Collins (Genesis)
0:48 George Michael (Wham)
0:59 Simon LeBon (DuranDuran)
1:09 Sting and Simon LeBon
1:14 Tony Hadley (Spandau Ballet)
1:30 Bono (U2)
1:40 Paul Weller (The Jam, Style Council)
1:46 Midge Ure (Ultravox) at sound board
1:47 Gary Kemp (Spandau Ballet) with John Taylor
1:56 Glenn Gregory (Heaven 17) In black
2:05 Midge Ure second from right
2:12 Marilyn in foreground with Glenn Gregory
2:28 Bananarama
2:29 Kool and the Gang
2:30 Jody Watley (Shalamar)
2:37 Francis Rossi (Status Quo)
3:26 Rick Parfitt (Status Quo)
3:31 Marilyn
3:32 Jon Moss (Culture Club)
3:36 Nick Rhodes (DuranDuran)
3:37 Andy Taylor (DuranDuran


Happy Holidays!

Much Love,
Christine

The Midnight of Hope

Recently my Writing for Wellness group at City of Hope was asked to pen a poem about New Year's. Recalling exactly where I was last year, and the miracle that I am still *here* this year, this poem just sort of wrote itself. It's a bit dippy, but I thought I would share it anyway.

I've lost many friends to cancer this year. Fellow warriors and fellow hearts. Each one of us equally frightened, yet equally determined. Each one a compelling, inspirational story of courage and hope. All of us in mutual support of one another. Sometimes I feel guilty that I am still here and they are not. This holiday season, I am taking nothing for granted. This holiday season, is in remembrance of them.

Not only is life precious, but it is precarious. We are far more fragile than we let ourselves on to believe. But we are also far more resilient.

Hold your loved ones closer this year. Forgive and be giving. And for those who have loved ones spending their first Christmas in heaven, know that when you feel the Christmas spirit in your heart, it is them loving you.

xo,
christine

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The Midnight of Hope


Spent last New Year’s Eve at City of Hope
Alone in my room, didn’t know how I’d cope
Thinking of the all the champagne, the confetti, the cheers
Of others feasting and singing to welcome New Year’s

Friends came to visit but left before 10 p.m.
I didn’t want friends to miss the parties and joy offered to them
The world danced in the streets to celebrate the night
And here I was tethered, fighting for my life

Broken and sobbing in my bed
Uncertainty and fear swirling in my head
Brooding about the fun at midnight I’d miss
Realizing… I had no one to kiss

Hearing the medical clicks from my IV pole
I remember, I began to cry into my pillow
Holding on to Hope and not wanting to believe
That I probably wouldn’t see next New Year’s Eve

But now it’s a year later and I’m cancer-free
This year Times Square is waiting for me
I have doctors and loved ones to thank for this
And this year, I look forward to that sweet kiss

:)

But thinking again, I realize I am wrong
January 1st only sings a small part of the song
For if Midnight can bring Hope, about Life Anew,
Of Joy, of Freedom and of Gratitude

If in the coldest of winter, at the darkest of night
We can still find in ourselves, our own Ball of Light
Then I don’t need Dick Clark or a Fireworks display
For the anniversary of my marrow transplant is my New Year’s Day

In Remembrance of Elizabeth

Cancer vixen, fellow traveler and true friend Elizabeth Terry has passed.

Elizabeth and I were already close friends before we both relapsed within a week of each other two years ago. We were both given grave odds. We were both determined to beat it. We made a promise there would be a day when our yet-to-be-born children would play with each other.

Some of you may remember her from the BBQ get-together, held the week before I was admitted to the hospital for the bone-marrow transplant. Though fighting cancer herself, Elizabeth came to offer support and hope. As usual, her English wit and charm won everyone over.

Some of you may remember her from those scary few days at the hospital in Santa Monica, when I was close to death with that terrible infection. Elizabeth was in the middle of chemotherapy herself, but she was there in the room with everyone else, helping to lead the fight to get me better care.

Elizabeth was feisty, yet elegant. Handed down worse and worse odds with each passing month, Elizabeth handled her situation with grace and sublime defiance. Never did she lose the fire behind her eyes. With her English roots, she would often relay bad news with perfect poise and finely tuned resilience.


When we would meet at City of Hope for Chemotherapy, Elizabeth would say "Are you ready for your spa treatment? This is the best, most expensive spa treatment anyone can ever get! Aren't we lucky?"

Elizabeth was a global writer. Her work took her from the outskirts of Australia to an honored place within Princess Di’s circle of trust.

Elizabeth was truly a remarkable woman. After confessing of the declining state of her health, she would quickly brush off any pity, self or otherwise and turn bright around to say “Well enough of that! Would you like some tea? I can make us cheese sandwiches…” We would spend the afternoon talking about everything we would do once we got better. Elizabeth was so perspicacious and courageous that I didn't doubt there would be a day when we would toast champagne in Le Cap d'Antibes.

Elizabeth’s husband, James, never left her side. At one point he was holding down several jobs to keep up with medical expenses all the while accompanying Elizabeth to as many appointments as possible. He held her hand in the quiet times and fought hard for her when there was a call to battle. James was completely devoted and stood by her every step of the way. That is the mark of a true man. Today, our thoughts are with him.


Elizabeth is deeply missed. Her indefatigable spirit continues in our hearts.

Here is her obituary published in the Los Angeles Times today:

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TERRY, Elizabeth Jane Marchant March 7, 1962 - Dec. 7, 2007, a versatile journalist who lived in Paris, London and Los Angeles, was working on "Gardening Angel," a book to be published by HarperCollins San Francisco about growing and cooking with cancer-fighting herbs and vegetables and the power of gardening--for body, mind and spirit. Born in Santa Monica to British parents, she spent her childhood between Sherborne, England, and Santa Monica. Her beauty and charm, as well as fluency in French, German and English, were assets in her various journalism posts at magazines including People and Celebrity Bulletin, in Paris; InStyle, and several British newspapers in London; and the Palisadian Post, House & Garden, Vanity Fair and The New Yorker in Los Angeles. In 1999, she accepted a position as West Coast Editor for eLuxury, the online website of the French fashion conglomerate, LVMH and also launched into a successful freelance writing career covering topics that interested and amused her: gardens, home decor, travel, interesting personalities and local Santa Monica history. With good doctors, deep friendships and newfound faith she was able to continue laughing, traveling, writing, and helping others. Elizabeth is survived by her father, two brothers, a sister, a step-father, two nieces, and her loving husband, James Terry. In lieu of flowers, Terry has asked that donations be made in honor of Benjamin Shapiro to the Tuberous Sclerosis Alliance, 801 Roeder Road, Silver Spring, MD, 20910. A service will be held on December 20th at 11:00 a.m. at All Saints Church, 132 North Euclid Avenue, Pasadena. A reception will follow.

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We had love left undone
We had words left unspoken
I still hold things I promised you.
Guilt withers visions of trips untaken
Of ghostly towns
And dying flowers
Dried stalks crumble in the hand.
You penned wishes in notebooks
Squeezed between paragraphs of disappointment.
We promised and planned but delayed for convenience.
A regret that cannot be atoned.
“Some day” never came.


Remember Elizabeth by living Now.

-cp

Priestley Hugs for the Holidays

Jason Priestley gives good hugs.

Toluca Lake held their annual Christmas Parade and Open House last night, replete with carolers, bagpipers, a bevy of cookies and candy and, for the 24th year, the Magical Christmas Caroling Truck.

Once again, Cinema Secrets, opened their doors and hosted a Marrow Drive during the festivities. My friend, Jerome Williams is still in need of a marrow donor and once again, A3M was there to lend a hand.

After we spoke, Jason was eager to join the registry and immediately said "yes", walking straight up to the sign-up table. The lovely Aileen Malig walked him through the steps of what it takes to become a donor. Ms Aileen is one of A3M's best.


The Cinema Secrets family was generous, kind and full of life. They give so much to their community and are role models for how good business and good people can make a difference. Debra (above with pink scarf) was the main instigator of good. Not only is she beautiful but she is an angel immeasurable.



Even though people were busy shopping, snacking and parade watching, many took the time to sit down, swab their cheeks and apply to the registry. As usual, people had a lot of questions, but once they understood how easy and how awesome it is to be a marrow donor, they were reaching for the swabs. It was like a big party. The whole evening was a blast and probably one of the most fun marrow drives we've ever held!


Anyone can save a life. Even Beverly Hills, 90210 types. :)

Happy Holidays Hugs!

-cp

Ignite

Here is an abridged version of a speech I recently gave:


The PSA you just saw happened last year. A year ago today I was still
in the hospital. Even with all efforts to save my life, my prognosis was
very grim, with less than a 10% chance of survival. But because of my
donor, I was given a chance to fight. I am so blessed to be standing
here tonight.

We are all blessed to be here tonight. To be in this theater, sitting in
these chairs. We are here because we are HEALTHY enough. We are
here because we are ALIVE.

But what keeps us alive? What keeps us going? Is it love? Is it
strength? Perhaps it is the person sitting next to you. The fact is, inside
each of us there is a life-force... A desire. A fire. A will to live. A great
flame inside us. I believe it is fueled by faith, by love, by hope.

But there are times when we do feel depleted, or worse, when we feel
nothing, as if something has extinguished our inner light.

God works through us. "Us" meaning we, you, me, the person sitting
behind you. We are the vessels for God’s work. Whether you believe in
him or not, He works through you.

When you are in that place where you are ready to give up. When
loneliness consumes your night. When there is nothing left inside you
but a lost soul or a torn heart. That is when love, working through even
just one single person, can heal. The miracle of the touch of another
can heal anything.

The inner flame inside each of us can re-ignite a broken heart into a
blazing inferno. Like one candle to another candle. One person can
rekindle another’s inner life-force. Another's soul.

This is what donating marrow is all about. This is what makes life
meaningful. It is God creating his miracles through us.

One person to another.

There remains thousands of cancer patients whose life-force is barely a
flicker. Whose flames are about to be extinguished.

Right now I want you Breathe in deep and breathe out slowly.

Feel that? That is the life-force within you. That is God’s love inside
you. YOU have the fire within to re-ignite the life of another.

It is literally in your marrow.

You may be the miracle someone is searching for.

Tonight we come to support A3M’s efforts to save lives. Tomorrow,
let’s be a part of it.

Trust me, it’s awesome.

Thank you. God Bless. And don’t forget to let your light shine.


Wishing a Blessed Thanksgiving,
Christine

Book Signing Sunday, In Memory of Joel

Almost forgot to mention that I will be at a Book Signing in Duarte at
City of Hope Sunday, November18 from 9-12. I'll be promoting & signing
the "Writing for Wellness" book, along with some of the other contributing
writers. For those who cannot make it, you can buy the book on Amazon.
All proceeds go to benefit City of Hope. I'll be at the table at the "Walk for
Hope" fundraiser to fight breast cancer.

I'm dedicating tomorrow and every WFW book I sign forevermore to the
memory of Joel Schickman, who passed away this morning after a long
and difficult fight.  Joel was in his early 30s, a well-loved Rabbinical
student and talented musician. Diagnosed with Leukemia, Joel's only
hope was to endure the rigors of a Bone Marrow Transplant.  Thankfully,
a donor was found and Joel went into remission.

However, Joel's health turned for the worse, when his body was invaded
by a hospital infection last week. His passing is a tragic loss.  Today the
earth hums the lullaby of a broken heart.  His beautiful wife Heather
embodied tremendous grace and strength throughout, caring not only for
Joel, but for their three small boys.

Joel was diagnosed only nine months ago and everyone who loved and
cared for him, everyone he touched in his life, is still coming to terms as to
why such an amazing soul would be taken from us too soon.  Joel
embraced G-d and embraced life.  Let us keep his spirit alive and honor
his memory by living life just like he did, with tremendous love.


Below is today's update from his CarePage.

-----

He Is Gone

November 17, 2007
7 Kislev 5768
9:42 a.m. PST

Joel fought very hard, but there were too many infections with too
many contradicting cures. He chose to fight with everything the
doctors had. His soul hummed inside of him with the rhythms of the
ventilator and monitors, and when it broke free I know your prayers
carried it upon wings of song back to his Creator.




-----

Remember Joel next time you sing.

Love,
Christine

Oh What a Night

***(The photo upload isn't working today so I had to improvise.
Sorry for the weird layout!)***

So a funny thing happend to me this week. A friend called from a party in New York
and said that a bunch of people there saw me on TV a few days ago.  
I thought, “Wha?”
 
I didn’t even know there were TV news cameras at A3M’s Gala event last weekend.
It was an amazing and very surreal night and yours truly got a taste of what it
feels like to be a mini-celebrity.  
 
Once we were seated for dinner, my friend Jerome said “Hey, that’s you.”  Again, I
said “Wha?” turned around in my chair and (trumpets please) there is a HUGE shiny
poster to the left of the stage.  There I am, all 12 feet of me, my head three feet across
and (horror!) dancing like a dork in the $8 green 80’s dress from Prom Night!  Adding to
the weirdness were quotes from my writings, layered to the side of and below my
exuberant image.  It looked like one of those Laker flags at Staples Center.
 


The elegant dinner consisted of hundreds of people.  Asian-American actors were
honored and people spoke. Then it was time for my speech.  People were clinking
glasses and jangling forks and I thought, “Oh, great. Everyone’s busy eating.”  But I
leaned on the podium anyway and began to read my speech.  Some sentences in, I
realized I had not looked up and the room had gone eerily quiet.  Still reading the
speech, I lifted my head to see a cornfield of eyes locked on my face.  Even the wait
staff had become paralyzed in mid-service, clutching water pitchers and empty salad
plates.
 
The speech ended in a burst of applause and I slinked back to my chair, humbled once
more.  A tap on the shoulder, I turn around and there smiles Yuji Okumoto. He said
“Beautiful words. Incredible story.  You’re an inspiration.”  But all I could think was “Oh
my GAWD!  You’re the guy from Karate Kid II !”  Here’s the pic to prove it.
 


After dessert, the VIPs sauntered into the main theater.  I had to rush backstage
because I was basically the “opening act”.  As I came down the hallway, every security
guard had an earpiece and as I walked by, they would press their fingers against their
ears ala Mission Impossible.  The communiqué was “Christine is coming down the main
hallway and headed towards the stage door”.  Wha?  What am I?!  Aerosmith?!



The main act was Martin Nievera, who has been described as the “Ricky Martin of the
Philippines”.  We barely had a chance to bond before I was ushered from the green
room to the stage.  It was the first time I saw the theater and when I looked up, what
went through my head was “O.M.F.G.!!!!!”  The place was HUGE.
 



It reminded me of a Vienna opera house.  There was a Mezzanine AND three additional
tiers.  Gulp.  The MCs for the evening darted past me and onto the stage and (adding to
the surrealism) began to talk about someone named “Christine Pechera”.  Then the
room hushed once more and projected on the giant movie screen was the latest short
film of my story.  So I’m standing there, watching this film and living through the
transplant all over again.  Up on screen, I am in cotton hospital gown, bald, bloated and
in turmoil.  It was quite a contrast to my silk red evening gown, heels, coiffed hair and
the undeniable realization once more of “Wow. I’m still breathing…  this kicks azz!”
 
The film ends and a nudge from the stage manager has my heels echoing across the
stage to the podium.  The place was cavernous.  After the applause died down, I
squinted into the white-hot spotlight and for a brief second, had to resist the urge to
raise my arms ala Evita and sing, “Don’t cry for me ArgenTINA!”  
 


Since the same hundreds of people from the Gala dinner were now peppered in the
audience of perhaps 2000, I had prepared a completely different speech.  At one point,
I had the entire theater inhale and exhale slowly as one.  That was pretty awesome. 
 
After I spoke, I thought, “Great, my job is done. Time to relax” and I snuck to my chair
in the audience. Martin Nievera bursted onto the stage and rocked the house.  I was
enjoying the music when suddenly things went Twilight Zone again.  I heard my name
bellowing from the huge speakers, echoing all around.  “Where is she?!  Where is
Christine Pechera?!”  cried out Mr. Nievera.  My eyes widened. “Oh NO, he isn’t!”  The
house lights came up and Martin was now at the edge of the stage, hand on his brow as
if peering through the fog for a distant ship.  Oh well… you only live once… so I bolted
up from my seat, frantically waved my arms and screamed “I’m HERE Marteeeeeen!!!!!”
The entire audience in the orchestra section around me was sitting low in their seats and
there I was bopping up and down like a Jack-In-The-Box.  As soon as I stood up, there
was a collective gasp as in “Oh my God, she is sitting right HERE?!  Holy shmokie!”  I
guess should have asked for a box seat?

 

Anyway, Martin spots me and says some nice things, which makes my cheeks blush.
Then the lights go down, the spotlight hones in and Nievera SERENADES me from the
stage!  It was like one of those teenage Rock’n’Roll fantasies where Elvis picks YOU
out of the crowd, points and says “Hey you.  (hubbahubba) Yeah you. (a-hubba) I’m
singing this next song just for YOU.”  The song was called Wildflower and the lyrics
went something like ”She’s made it.  She’s finally made it. She’s blooming wide, like a
wildflower.”
 
At intermission, I decided to go to the lobby to look at the items in the Silent Auction.
With my “entourage”, we passed the earpieced security guards, pushed beyond the
stage door and out into the crowd.
 


I never made it to the Silent Auction tables.  
 
I couldn’t walk more than a step or two before a nice man wanted a picture or an
excited lady wanted to meet or another wanted to share her story.  I tried my best to
answer all questions and fulfill all requests but had to retreat backstage when it became
too much.  But backstage, photos were taken with the choir, the stage managers,
members of the band, press people and of course, Martin Nievera.

 

Towards the end the evening, a staff member of A3M approached me and said, “I don’t
know what you said or did but the marrow drive in the lobby is out of control!”  When I
last checked there were well over 100 people signed up and more to go.  It was the
most registrants A3M had ever seen on their annual Gala night... ever.  More signed up
than in the last five Gala nights combined. Cool!
 
As one of the founders of A3M said, “This was a magical night”.  And it was.  I met
some incredible people and heard some amazing stories of survival. This included other
BMT survivors and those recently diagnosed.  In the end, we are all in this together. 
My goal for the night was about creating awareness, spreading the word, and saving
lives.  I wanted to inspire others to speak up, to live, to DO something.  I think we,
(that is EVERYONE who contributed to the Gala fundraiser) can say we changed a
small part of the world that night.  On posters and invites, the evening was fittingly
called the “Miracles” concert.


 
Long after the concert was over, there remained a serpentine line outside waiting as
Nievera signed autographs at a table.  I was spent from all the attention and just wanted
to go home, light some candles and soak in a hot bath.  As I walked out, Nievera’s PR
guy called out to me, and turned to Nievera exclaiming, “Christine is LEAVING!”  Martin
jumped from his chair and we hugged across the velvet ropes.  He whispered, “You stay
healthy”.  I gushed, “You stay awesome.”  (I’m such a cheeseball!)
 
As I walked out to leave, a small group of people followed.  I guess they wanted to
watch me climb into my limo and wave as I headed back to my swanky mansion in
the Hollywood Hills.  The problem: There is no mansion and there was no Limo.  Instead
everyone was treated to a walk into the parking lot and the sing-song of my car.
“Beep-Bip-BOOP!” 
 
The engine purred, I shifted gears, and headed towards the Freeway back to Reality.  

xo,
cp

Big A3M Benefit this Sunday, Oct 14

Just a quick update:

This Sunday, October 14, I have the honor of being the guest
speaker at a dinner and concert benefit for Asians for
Miracle Marrow Matches. The event is A3M's main annual
fundraiser.



Philippine songster Martin Nievera will be performing from his
repetoire in addition to American standards, oldies and classic
Broadway hits. Attached is the flyer for anyone who is curious
or interested in attending.  I plan to dance in the aisles.

http://www.asianmarrow.org/events/martin2007/index.htm


Even with all the involvement in cancer related activities,
I am slowly but surely rebuilding my "normal" life; shedding
the role of "cancer patient" and embracing a beautiful new
and healthy La Vie en Rose.  Thank God for second chances…

Much Love,
Christine

Writing for Wellness

Today marks the release of "Writing for Wellness: A Prescription for Healing". I am honored to be one of the many contributing writers in this life-changing book.

"Writing for Wellness" is based on the writer's group of the same name at City of Hope, a group I have been part of since my first treatment at the cancer center.

The book illustrates how one can cope, connect and heal through writing. It contains inspirational submissions by cancer patients, caregivers, survivors and family members. Truly, it is a rare glimpse into the minds and hearts of people going through one of the greatest trials of their life. It is also a practical "how to" for anyone who wants to learn how writing can help you heal.

The City of Hope writing program, presented in the book, was developed by Julie Davey, a former writing and journalism professor and two-time cancer survivor.

Because of the book, the writing program is already being adopted at other hospitals across the country. We, the writers, ultimately hope that the healing and sharing we experienced in our little group will be re-created and repeated for others. By sharing our words, we hope to help many who are going through grave and uncertain times.

The book is available through many sources, including Amazon.com.

All proceeds from the book go to City of Hope.

Hugs,
Christine

Making a Run for It

When I first was diagnosed with cancer five years ago I kept repeating to myself “Only good will come of this. Whether I live or die, only good will come of this.” I prayed this everyday.

And out of the fire, good did come.

Most of this good was not by my hands but by the hands of strangers and friends. And it is wonderful to see that “good” continues to pay it forward.

A few months ago, my friend Barbara would have laughed if you asked her to trod a full mile non-stop. But after hearing the news of my clear scans and being cancer-free she thought “Wouldn’t it be great to give to another cancer patient, the chance to experience the miracle that Christine has accomplished.” A self-proclaimed “not a runner type”, she is currently in training for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society half-marathon to raise money to fight cancer. Barbara is awesome. Check out her homepage and see a nostalgic photo of what I used to look like in that big blue hospital mask:

http://www.active.com/donate/tntgla/tntglaBGregso


My friend and fellow Bone Marrow Transplant survivor, Janice and her husband Larry will be participating in the “Light the Night” Walk this Sunday in Woodland Hills. The walk raises money to, you guessed it, fight cancer. Janice and I were roommates at City of Hope. She continues to support and help patients, whether it be raising funds for research or sitting bedside to lend a hand to hold onto. Janice is a goddess. Here is her page:

http://www.active.com/donate/ltnLosAn/2046_JLevyLTN


Both of these fundraising walks address blood cancers, the category of cancer in which my Lymphoma diagnosis falls under. If you can contribute to help find a cure for this disease, please do. It’s amazing what a few dollars put in the right direction can do to change the world.

Changing gears. I’d like to thank the team who participated in my name (In my honor? What’s the right word here?) at the Beer Olympics in Williamsburg, Brooklyn recently. A good time for a good cause. Congratulations guys!

Hugs,
Christine