The End of the Ride by Sue Hendler

Sue's final column appears in today's paper.

"If you are reading this, you'll know that my cancer journey has ended. I gave this column to Whig-Standard editor Steve Serviss some time ago as I wanted to have a way of providing closure to this series which started in June 2008."

Read the full story

Read past columns by Sue Hendler by clicking on her name below.

Fuck cancer

Sue Hendler

I just received a notice from Sue's friend and Care Team coordinator Karla with this sad news:

"Sue died last night. It was at about 8:00. She was at St. Mary's but had only been there since the afternoon and so her plan to stay at home for as long as possible was very successful. As well, it was her choice to leave home and go to the hospital. She made all her choices until the very end. She was surrounded by more than an dozen of her wonderful family and friends."I'm not sure how I feel: shocked... sad... numb... thankful that she didn't linger.... all initial feelings that come to mind. I sent Sue an email on Monday to let her know that I was thinking about her but I hadn't had any communication from her since she made the following comment on my Visit with Sue posting on August 17th.

"Thanks Chris ...... I'll read this often over the next while and I know it will help me get through some difficult moments .... Take care and hugs to wonder dog!"

I'll miss Sue's raw and honest accounts of her cancer journey in her Whig Standard column. I've already been missing our back & forth email banter about everying from mindless TV shows to our fears about the future. I hope that wherever Sue is today, she's laughing at her prediction that there's probably nothing on the other side and that it's one opinion she's just fine with being wrong about.
This message was circulated to the Queens University community:

I am very sorry to report that Dr. Sue Hendler, former Head of the Department of Women’s Studies, passed away yesterday after a long and courageous fight against breast cancer. As some of you will remember, Sue was a Co-coordinator of Women’s Studies in the 1990s and was Director/Head for five crucial years from 1999 until 2004. She will be remembered for the many important policy changes that she initiated and implemented while leading the Department, including drafting the first proposal for what has become our MA Program in Gender Studies, overseeing growth both in course offerings and the enrolment of concentrators, and recognizing the need to convert the Institute into a Department. Under her wise leadership the LGBT, now Sexual and Gender Diversity, Certificate Program was created and began to flourish. More permanent faculty members were hired and Sue guided the Department through its first Internal Academic Review. Sue was politically savvy, wise, and a very hard worker on behalf of the interests of all members of the Department. Those of us here now owe her enormous gratitude for the efforts that she devoted to ensuring Women’s Studies would flourish. At this time I do not know what arrangements will be made for a service.

You can read Sue's past columns by clicking on her name below, after Labels. Watch for one final column from Sue to be published, which she told me she submitted sometime ago.

The work of living and dying, by Sue Hendler

Today Sue writes about: The work of living and dying: Will the next day be better or worse?

"Throughout the day, the phone has been ringing, with people asking if I need or want anything. There has been the occasional outing to City Park or to any sunny spot brightening the outside of my building. There is always the adding of items to my to-do list as I think about my will, my memorial service, my messy office at Queen's."

You can read other columns by Sue Hendler by clicking on her name below under Labels.

A gift to last: Joining Sue's Care Team lifts friend's sense of helplessness

Sue Hendler's latest column in the Whig Standard is written by her friend Karla McGrath. In the column Karla talks about Sue's care team and the gift Sue has given by letting her friends know what they can do to help.

Read today's column

You can read other columns by Sue Hendler by clicking on her name below, after Labels.

My visit with Sue

I think I needed some time to process my thoughts about my visit with Sue in Kingston before writing about it. It’s hard to know how to feel about sharing time with someone who has little left to spare: Honored to be part of her care team. Sad because she is too young to die. Horrified because we share the same disease.

My day with Sue was pretty uneventful (except for the part where her keys somehow ended up in my bag and I had to courier them back overnight from Ottawa!). I tried to let Sue take the lead; spending time with her when she wanted company and giving her space when she needed to rest or wanted to be alone.

Sue is very matter-of-fact about her prognosis and at one point she asked me what I thought happens to us when we die. ‘Nothing’ would probably have been my answer 10 years ago. I’ve never been religious and don’t buy into the angels-with-wings-on-a-cloud-in-heaven thing.

But I now think that there has to be more than ‘nothing’. Everything is energy, including all of the cells in our bodies. That energy has to go somewhere. That ‘somewhere’ is probably so out of our realm of thinking that we can’t even imagine it. Maybe we’ll exist in a very different form; maybe we won’t even have a physical form.

In Life is Eternal, Carly Simon sings “How and where my spirit will go? Will it soar like jazz on a saxophone, or evaporate on a breeze? Won’t you tell me please?”

However and wherever our spirits will go, I think it will be a surprise. I’m hoping it will be a good one!

As for Sue, some people might say that she’s in the process of dying. But I don’t think she’s there yet. I believe she’s still in the process of living.

The pleasure of the feel of sunlight on her face; the comfort of her cat curled up against her in bed; the care of friends and family that love her; peace and moments of awareness that she’s still living her life, regardless of the limitations and the number of days ahead.

In addition to freedom from physical and emotional pain, these are the things that I wish for Sue.

Me and my doctor (2), by Sue Hendler

Me and my doctor (2): Living for now, preparing for then

In today's Whig Standard newspaper column, Sue Hendler resumes a conversation with her oncologist, Dr. Yolanda Madarnas, she began in her last column.

Read the article

Read other articles by Sue Hendler by clicking on her name after Labels below.

Me and my doctor, by Sue Hendler

In today's column, Sue has a conversation with her oncologist, Dr. Yolanda Madarnas, about what we do, and why we do it.

When asked why and how she's been able to share the stories of her cancer experience in her columns, Sue replys "It's become an escape as well as a healthy dose of realism", which is exactly how I feel about writing this blog.

If you would like to read Sue Hendler's previous columns, click on her name below, after Label.

Read my post: Bloggin' is good for the noggin

Sad

My friend Sue is ill. Not just a little ill, like with a cold. Not even seriously ill, like with an early cancer diagnosis.

Sue is ill enough to have a team of friends taking turns to care for her so she can stay in her home as long as possible. Sue is shockingly open about her prognosis and is preparing herself and those around her for the inevitable, determined to take some control of what she can as long as she can. I have joined Sue's 'care team' and will be taking a shift this Saturday to be with her, to cook a meal, dole out medications, share a laugh, have a cry; whatever she needs on that particular day.

When I first started this blog I naively intended to write only good news stories. I assured others that my postings would not be depressing or morbid. I would share news of long-term survival and people who are responding well to treatment. I would write about kicking cancer in the ass. My motto would be (as stolen from Jackie Farr) FUCK CANCER! My profile says that “I want to create a blog that is about living in the moment and finding joy in the small things”.

But what do I do when one of the amazing friends I have met on this journey is not doing well? Do I ignore their struggle and my sadness and write something fluffy and positive? Isn’t it easier to just not deal with the fact that others die of the same disease that I have? Is it rational to feel a bit guilty that I’m doing well when others are not? Wouldn't writing about it be a downer and just remind others that none of us are invincible?

If I was Sue I’d be angry, wondering why I was in that situation while Chris was off visiting Europe and enjoying a cottage with friends. But I think I’d be even angrier if Chris didn’t appreciate her good fortune.

I’m not Sue, I’m Chris and my latest CT scans show that my cancer is responding to the treatments. But I am connected to Sue and what she is going through; a bond formed by late night emails when steroids made sleep difficult or times when I needed company but couldn't face seeing anyone in person. We emailed back and forth almost daily for a while, comparing treatments and sharing our common views on everything from American Idol, to topics for Sue's newspaper column, to making difficult treatment decisions.

When my dear friend Carol died in 2001 I vowed to live my life for both of us, to not take for granted the things that Carol could no longer do that I could. Back then it was just Carol; now the list has become incredibly long.

I recommit to life, in honor of Sue, Mary, Meridy, Mary Lou, Alice, Sylvie, Laurie, Jim and all of the others who are travelling this journey with me. Tomorrow I will put on my big-girl smile and face the world with hope and determination.

But tonight, I choose to be sad.

Fuck cancer

Clinical trials

In this week's Kingston Whig Standard column, Sue Hendler writes:

I'm not on trial -- the chemicals I take for my disease are

"Being part of a clinical trial can make you feel good in that you are getting the very latest drug development -- state-of-the-art treatment -- for your cancer. It can make you happy that you are doing something altruistic, too, as you are helping the medical community assess whether this drug is worth more study if it is deemed to show promise.

It can also be scary to be a participant in this kind of research. No one really knows what the drug will do to an actual human body, so that's a little unnerving. On the other hand, you're getting what seems to be an infinite number of tests to see how your various organs, as well as your body as a whole, is dealing with the drug."

Read the full article

To read other newpaper articles by Sue Hendler, click on her name after Labels below.

The right to choose

"In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes." - Benjamin Franklin

“I’m planning to live forever. So far, so good.” - Unknown

No one gets out of this life alive… yet death is a topic that most of us shy away from discussing, especially with those people that we love the most.

Well, I have news for all of you healthy folks out there: people with cancer are thinking about it and sometimes even talking about it with one another.

No, I’m not being negative. No, I’m not dwelling on it. It is just a reality of life that I want to consider before I’m in a critical situation and can no longer speak for myself.

In this week’s Kingston Whig Standard column, Sue Hendler asks the question:

Should we have the right to choose death with dignity, peace and care?

My answer is a resounding YES.

You can read other columns written by Sue Hendler by clicking on her name after Labels below.

Right to die Society of Canada

Learning from Elton John about how to write a bucket list

Sue Hendler's latest Kingston Whig Standard column is called: Learning from Elton John about how to write a bucket list.

Although we both attended the concert, things were too chaotic for Sue & I to connect that night. However, it was good to know there was another kindred spirit in the crowd; both of us enjoying the concert from our separate seats; both checking off something from our bucket lists that we had wanted to do for years.

Learning from Elton John about how to write a bucket list

My bucket list

You can read other columns by Sue Hendler by clicking on her name below, after Labels.

Sue Hendler's latest column

In today’s Kingston Whig Standard column, Sue Hendler writes about new math, my results and a potential solution to the parking problem.

You can read other columns by Sue by clicking on her name below, after Labels.

I understand so much better now

Since her diagnosis of metastatic cancer, Sue better understands some of the challenges her sister Celia faced when she was struggling with her own illnesses. Sue writes a moving open letter to her sister in today’s Kingston Whig Standard. Anyone who has a loved one with a serious illness can learn from Sue's reflections on the period of time before her sister’s death.

An open letter to my sister: by Sue Hendler

You can read other columns by Sue by clicking on her name below, after Labels.

How YOU doin'?

In this week’s column, Sue Hendler shares some humorous and honest answers to the question that people with cancer are asked every day: How are you doing?

In case you are wondering, I'm doing great today. Well, that depends on who you are... :-)


To read more columns by Sue Hendler, click on her name below after Labels.

Happy Birthday to Sue!

My email pal, Sue, and I have been writing back and forth on a regular basis for some time, comparing our treatment experiences and sharing life observations in general. So, even though I had only met her in person once before, I was happy to drive to Kingston yesterday to attend her birthday celebration. I invited Jennifer (an extrovert who has no problem blending in with a room full of people she doesn’t know) along for the drive.

It was wonderful to meet Sue’s friends and to see what a great support network she has. Her condo was lovingly decorated with purple balloons, banners and flowers. People brought a wide assortment of delicious finger foods and Happy Birthday cupcakes.
Jennifer took this picture of me & Sue. As you can see, Sue is wearing her Fuck Cancer hat, which really just says it all.

You can read Sue's columns in the Kingston Whig Standard by clicking on Sue Hendler after Labels below and following the links.

Looking at my disease as part of the environment and its mystery

In preparation for next Wednesday’s Earth Day, Sue Hendler looks at cancer from an environmentalist’s point of view in this week's Kingston Whig Standard column.
You can read other columns by Sue Hendler by clicking on her name below after "Labels".

At first, cancer centre seemed foreign: by Sue Hendler

We’re lucky to have a great cancer centre here in Ottawa. But as Sue Hendler states in her latest Whig Standard column about the Kingston Cancer Centre, it’s the people that make it work.

If you would like to read other columns by Sue Hendler, click on her name below after "Labels".

More columns by Sue Hendler

For those of you who follow Sue Hendler’s column in the Kingston Whig Standard, I think I finally have links to just about all of her columns since she started writing about her cancer journey in July of 2008. Here are the ones that I’ve been missing:

Wanted: Legacy Coach? Not! Nov 14, 2008
A tongue-in-cheek look at how not to get breast cancer Oct 31, 2008
Outwit, outplay, outlast: Am I a breast cancer survivor? Oct 17, 2008
Friends ready for Run for the Cure Oct 3, 2008
I’ve learned to hang on tight during my roller-coaster ride Sept 15, 2008

If you would like to read other columns by Sue Hendler, click on her name below after "Labels".

Positive thinking

Several years ago, Kevin, a work colleague was diagnosed with cancer. He came to me, still in the deer-in-the-headlights stage of dealing with the news, because he knew that I had had breast cancer and just needed to talk.

I mostly just listened, but I remember giving Kevin this one piece of advice: I told him that he shouldn’t be afraid of his emotions and spending some time on ‘the dark side’ (as I like to call it). People were going to tell him to 'just be positive’ but he shouldn't try to live up to the expectations of others.

Not that I think that positive thinking is a bad thing, but I told Kevin that my experience was that the pressure to be strong for yourself, as well as for everyone else, can just be too much to take sometimes. Since my own diagnosis, I’ve needed to spend some time grieving to really put things in perspective. It’s a natural response to having a serious illness and fighting it can sometimes just make it worse.

Sue Hendler wrote about advice from others to ‘be positive’ in her last column in the Kingston Whig Standard. There are some interesting comments from readers posted in response to her column. I tried to post my own comment but couldn’t figure out how (damn technology!), so I’m posting it here:

I’m not surprised at the different responses to Sue’s latest column. The emotional dark side of living with cancer can be uncomfortable, or even painful, and we want to pretend that if we just stay positive, everything will be OK. Of course, people are well meaning when they say to ‘be strong’ and ‘think positive’, but it’s not realistic or even healthy to try to live that way all the time. Sue is showing her own strength and courage by sharing her feelings and experiences in her columns. Fear, sadness and anger are all natural emotions when dealing with a serious illness. I find it interesting that the last commenter doesn’t seem to be aware that some of those same emotions come through in what she/he wrote. People who love Sue will not turn away just because she is honest enough to say what is helpful to her and what is not.

If you would like to read other columns by Sue Hendler, click on her name in the labels below.

More cancer terminology

I was scrolling through some of my past posts and came across something I wrote a few days ago: “For the record, I think of myself as ‘incurable’, not ‘terminal’”.

When I read that, it struck me as rather strange that I had referred to myself as ‘incurable’. Actually, it's the cancer that is 'incurable', not me! I find it interesting to look at the choice of words I use to describe cancer and its effects.

I’ve sometimes heard myself refer to 'my' cancer. I really don’t want to own it, yet it is unique to me and my body will deal with it in a way that is different than the next person. So I guess it is mine, whether I like it or not.

I said in the same posting “I also think of myself as a ‘survivor’". Another term that I sometimes use is cancer ‘thriver’.

In this week’s column in the Kingston Whig Standard, Sue Hendler explores the use of the word ‘patient’, in I may have breast cancer, but I don’t have to be (a) patient.

If you would like to read other columns by Sue Hendler, click on her name below after "Labels".