I write for the Cancer City Star.

                What?

  I looked at the words I’d just typed and laughed.

  I’ve passed through surgery, chemo, hair loss, radiation, weight gain, purple fingernails and more sleepless nights than the mother of a newborn. And now, apparently, I have chemo brain.

   But I’m a cancer survivor.

   The purple T-shirt given to me by Relay for Life says so in big white letters across the back: S U R V I V O R.

    Speaking of gifts. Please, no more items with pink breast cancer ribbons. How many does a girl need anyway? And frankly I don’t want to be reminded of the big C every time I open my closet. Would You? ( Attn Suzie:  I do love the blankie and still use it A LOT.)

     For the record, this is what cancer survivors want: chocolate, massages, new clothes, cool weather and vacations to Cape Cod. Oh, a best-selling book with my name on it would be grand.

   Back to Relay for Life. How to describe it? Really, good, people.

   I’ve been compiling community news for several years now and every year local Relay for Life groups have events and I think, nice: Not Interested.

   This year when the press release landed in my inbox I read it thoughtfully as I tried to run my fingers through the ½ inch hair on my head. It spoke to me.

   Then I spoke to Liberty’s Relay chairwoman, Julie Davidson, who told me that the Relay is about celebrating life. “When we do Relay for Life we want to enjoy life and take it to a different level than being sad,” she said.

   So my knight-on-the-white-steed and I attended Relay’s free survivor dinner and a few weeks later attended the actual Relay at South Valley Jr. High School. That was before the sun moved 10 degrees closer to the earth. The night was most pleasant. Colorful tents covered the grass, children ran, people smiled, purple balloons floated.

   I discovered that Relay isn’t about running or walking a track or fundraising, although thanks go to all who helped raise $57,000-plus for Relay for Life of Liberty.

   The Relay is about people.

   The youngest survivor was a child. He wore purple with the rest of us as we walked the first lap together amidst applause and cheers from our caregivers/support teams/friends/families.

   Two Liberty teachers in purple survivor shirts walked out of my children’s past and alongside me on the track. Veteran survivor Sharyl Booth looked on while Cindy Svehla and I compared our post-chemo ‘dos. Hers was dark/short/curly. Mine, white/short /straight.

   I got a free massage from Karen Carmack from Wellspring School of Allied Health and walked and talked a few laps with newish friend Jonna Wensel from the City of Liberty Team. She’s Liberty’s Community Development Manager and came like many others, to show support.

   Five hundred people attended the relay. Many of them were part of teams such as: Eradicators, Rockettes and Knight Striders which raise money year-round for cancer patients and research.

   My new favorite DJ, Shane McLintlock from Q104, made me celebrity for a minute and interviewed me from the grandstand. His father had cancer and McLintlock has performed at 133 Relay for Life events. Shane told me to let him know if he could do anything for me. I believe him.

   People ask me if I’m cured of cancer. I don’t think there’s an answer for that other than I don’t know. I juice carrots, take 30-minute walks in the bright sun to get my vitamin D, and still go in for my tri-weekly Herceptin infusions.

   Relay for Life gave me a good dose of celebrating-life medicine, the kind that comes from people who really care. Thanks everyone.

   Today I had a bad hair day. Do you know how wonderful it is to have a bad hair day after five-plus months of no-hair days? A bad hair day, even if the hair is only an inch long—straight or curly— is a wonderful thing.

(Printed in The Kansas City Star, Aug. 1, 2012)