If youÌ¢âÂã¢ve had breast cancer and even if you havenÌ¢âÂã¢t, itÌ¢âÂã¢s worth checking out Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person, A Memoir in Comics, by Miriam Engelberg. My girlfriend bought it for me one day when we came upon it in a bookstore. The comic book made me belly laugh about my own experience with breast cancer. Until then, I hadnÌ¢âÂã¢t run into anyone who could really hit my funny bone on this grizzly topic. Engelberg tells it like it is. Her comic vignettes lighten up the toughest of issuesÌ¢âÂÛshe got me giggling about the weird way people act towards those of us who have breast cancer, about the feeling that the universe has plotted against me to give me this disease, and my worry that the disease was my own fault. SheÌ¢âÂã¢s funny about the most common day-to-day interactions and worst days of chemo and radiation.
Although I havenÌ¢âÂã¢t found anything in her writing that explicitly identifies her as a Jew, my guess is Engelberg was Jewish. In addition to her Jewish-sounding name, she had the wit, courage, purpose, and relish for life that so many Jewish women have.
Sadly, as I cruised the internet this morning to find out more about her, I found that she died just a week ago, on October 17th. What a loss.
Usually, when I hear of a woman who dies of breast cancer, I not only feel sad, I feel terror at the thought that I might not make it. But even before I was diagnosed with breast cancer six years ago, I was deeply fearful of the disease. I think many women privately are terrified about getting breast cancer. That, in itself, is part of the battle against breast cancer that we all face as women.
The media usually focuses on women who die from this disease. That focus of attention doesnÌ¢âÂã¢t line up with the reality. The majority of women who get breast cancer are alive and kicking. I am amongst the many breast cancer survivors who are living fabulous lives. Since the 90Ì¢âÂã¢s, the survival rates for breast cancer are steadily rising and researchers predict the rate will to continue to rise. Girl friends, take heart.
So today, even though I am sad to lose Miriam Engelberg, I donÌ¢âÂã¢t feel terrified. Maybe itÌ¢âÂã¢s partly the laughter that Engelberg gave to me, which has helped me continue to heal from this temporarily cataclysmic experience and which helps me feel more confident in the future. Thank you, Miriam.
If youÌ¢âÂã¢ve had breast cancer and even if you havenÌ¢âÂã¢t, itÌ¢âÂã¢s worth checking out Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person, A Memoir in Comics, by Miriam Engelberg. My girlfriend bought it for me one day when we came upon it in a bookstore. The comic book made me belly laugh about my own experience with breast cancer. Until then, I hadnÌ¢âÂã¢t run into anyone who could really hit my funny bone on this grizzly topic. Engelberg tells it like it is. Her comic vignettes lighten up the toughest of issuesÌ¢âÂÛshe got me giggling about the weird way people act towards those of us who have breast cancer, about the feeling that the universe has plotted against me to give me this disease, and my worry that the disease was my own fault. SheÌ¢âÂã¢s funny about the most common day-to-day interactions and worst days of chemo and radiation.
Although I havenÌ¢âÂã¢t found anything in her writing that explicitly identifies her as a Jew, my guess is Engelberg was Jewish. In addition to her Jewish-sounding name, she had the wit, courage, purpose, and relish for life that so many Jewish women have.
Sadly, as I cruised the internet this morning to find out more about her, I found that she died just a week ago, on October 17th. What a loss.
Usually, when I hear of a woman who dies of breast cancer, I not only feel sad, I feel terror at the thought that I might not make it. But even before I was diagnosed with breast cancer six years ago, I was deeply fearful of the disease. I think many women privately are terrified about getting breast cancer. That, in itself, is part of the battle against breast cancer that we all face as women.
The media usually focuses on women who die from this disease. That focus of attention doesnÌ¢âÂã¢t line up with the reality. The majority of women who get breast cancer are alive and kicking. I am amongst the many breast cancer survivors who are living fabulous lives. Since the 90Ì¢âÂã¢s, the survival rates for breast cancer are steadily rising and researchers predict the rate will to continue to rise. Girl friends, take heart.
So today, even though I am sad to lose Miriam Engelberg, I donÌ¢âÂã¢t feel terrified. Maybe itÌ¢âÂã¢s partly the laughter that Engelberg gave to me, which has helped me continue to heal from this temporarily cataclysmic experience and which helps me feel more confident in the future. Thank you, Miriam.