Sonia Marsh - Gutsy Living

How I Turned Tragedy into Triumph by Janet Simcic

November 25, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 5 Comments

Overcoming My Fear of Pink

“My Gutsy Story®” by Janet Simcic

Autumn! It evokes warm memories for me growing up on the east coast. Leaves change from green to crimson and bright yellow, delicious air brisk in my nostrils.

My perennial October joy ended abruptly in 1993 when I became that one out of seven women diagnosed with breast cancer. Thanks to the efforts of the Susan G. Komen Foundation and other organizations, October is now breast cancer awareness month, and the color pink is prominent on TV commercials, clothing, perfume bottles, sports team gear…you name it. I couldn’t appreciate it more. But for the first ten years after my double mastectomy and year of anguishing chemotherapy, every October brought back fear and pain, and pink reminded me daily of being in survival mode. Pink had come to represent nausea, sleepless nights, baldness, wondering if I’d live to see grandchildren born, if I’d suffer, when I would have a recurrence.

I turned fifty the year of my diagnosis. It started out fine. Took care of all my doctor’s appointments, my yearly mammogram, screeched into menopause, went on estrogen therapy and then it happened. Two days after my mammogram, I got the call.

“Mrs. Simcic, this is Dr. Hopkins office. We need you to have additional views for your recent mammogram.”

I made the appointment, heart hammering, and feared it wasn’t good news. I endured the extra scans, had the ultrasound, went home and cried. The next day the call came.

“Mrs. Simcic, there’s been a change in your breasts. You need to review your film with a surgeon.”

A good friend worked for Dr. Baick, an M.D. who’d recently started a practice just for breast cancer patients…with his own staff oncologist and plastic surgeon. I made the appointment, picked up the film, and peeked at it in the parking lot. There was the tumor smaller than the nail on my pinkie finger; exactly like photos of breast cancer in brochures I’d read. It beamed like a shining star.

Tears fell, and I called my husband, Bill. We met with Dr. Baick who reviewed the film and said, “A lumpectomy should take care of a tumor this small. Here are the orders for a needle biopsy, and your surgery for next Friday.”

It’s not fun to sit in front of an ex-ray machine and have someone place a marker in your breast, followed by a long needle to aspirate tissue. But I forced myself through it by prayer. The lumpectomy surgery was quite simple, with little pain or recovery time. “Got it all,” he said. “We’ll call you with results next week.” He called the next week for a follow-up appointment. That wasn’t good news. It meant something bad. Bill and I held each other tightly, prayed some more, asking for that miracle, and drove to the office.

Dr. Baick said, “Bill, I’m going to talk to you because your wife is in shock and may not understand.”

But I listened to every word. Not only did I have in situ cancer, making it impossible to have clear margins, but the cancer had already spread to my lymph nodes. It was estrogen receptive. Dr. Baick delivered the verdict. I needed a total mastectomy.

Two weeks later, I sat in the plastic surgeon’s office as he tried to convince me the horror stories of silicon breast implants were exaggerated. He threw one across the room to demonstrate. Being a fearful person, I opted for the saline. Long before Angelina Jolie made headlines, I chose to have the other breast removed as well. Having estrogen receptive cancer, and my family history of my dad’s prostate cancer and my mother’s ovarian cancer, I had serious risk factors.

By the end of the month, I had nice implants (chosen after feeling the implants of many other cancer patients), and started chemotherapy with Dr. Tariq Mahmood, the most compassionate doctor I’ve ever met.

The country was in recession in 1993, our business was hitting bottom, my daughter was getting married, and my son was entering his second year at Columbia University. I wept. I’d be bald for my daughter’s wedding. Would I ever look like me again? When I told people I had breast cancer, everyone immediately looked at my breasts. It was embarrassing.

Then one night, I scratched my head and a handful of hair came out. Did you know it hurts to lose your hair? It’s surprisingly painful. By the end of the second round of chemotherapy, every hair on my body disappeared. I wore a wig which I’d throw it off the minute I walked into my house.

However, here’s the positive side. I got through it. I found out how strong my marriage was. I discovered my friends were really there for me. I became a cheerleader for other women facing this insidious disease. I went back to work, seven days a week throughout my chemotherapy. I was energized, motivated. I began to take on projects I’d put off because I felt I was too busy. I researched my family tree. I started traveling to Europe. I learned how to speak Italian. I wrote two books and plan to write at least two more. I accepted pink as the color winners wear. I began to live life ONE DAY AT A TIME and learned “This is the day that the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

I’ve always felt grateful for my life. I’ve been fortunate. But breast cancer taught me how to turn a tragedy into a triumph. Two years ago, I was diagnosed with lymphoma. It was easier this time. No color for lymphoma. But I knew in my heart, if I could survive one of the most difficult kinds of breast cancer, I could survive lymphoma too.

It’s 2013, and I have joy, twelve grandchildren and counting, speak Italian with gusto, write until my fingers tire, travel. I’m always looking to learn something new, wanting my life to count, to be remembered as someone who faced adversity, survived, and lived life to the fullest.

I’m told the lymphoma will probably return, and my breast cancer might come back. But if and when life throws me a lemon, I’ll be gutsy and make pink lemonade. And when it’s my time to die, I have every intention of arriving at the grave in a pretty pink dress, skidding in broadside, thoroughly used up…and loudly proclaiming, “Wow, what a ride.” Never stopped living, never gave up, and never stop trying.

JANET SIMCIC grew up in Boston, New York, and Michigan. After graduate school, she taught gifted high school students, ran a secretarial service and co-owned a large construction business with her husband.

Her first fiction book was published in 2011. “The Man At The Caffe’ Farnese” is available on amazon.com and Kindle. In addition she has freelanced for The Baptist Bulletin, Travel and Leisure, and The Travel Section of the Orange County Register.

Her latest book, non-fiction, “An American Chick’s Guide to Italy” was released in October, 2013.

Janet Simcic book2_ — Click on cover to go to Amazon

She continues to write, working on her third and fourth novel, articles for travel, speaks fluent Italian, and is genetically programmed to love everything Italian.

She and her husband reside in Orange, CA.

SONIA MARSH SAYS: I love the way you take the fear out of cancer by your statement,

“I was energized, motivated. I began to take on projects I’d put off because I felt I was too busy. I researched my family tree. I started traveling to Europe. I learned how to speak Italian. I wrote two books and plan to write at least two more. I accepted pink as the color winners wear.”

I thank you for sharing your inspiring story.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” which may be included in our 2nd ANTHOLOGY.

Please view our 1st Published Anthology here.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

Please read the two “My Gutsy Story®” submissions this month from Lola De Maci, Ed Robinson and Boyd Lemon.

Voting for your favorite November “My Gutsy Story®”starts on November 28th until December 11th. The winner will be announced on December 12th.

5 Questions You Must Answer Before You Write Your Book

November 21, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 2 Comments

Dale Griffiths Stamos- Story Structure Editor — Dale Griffiths Stamos-
Story Structure Editor

There are five basic questions writers need to ask prior to starting a manuscript. I believe these will save time and help you structure your memoir, or novel.

Manuscript consultant, Dale Griffiths Stamos, mentioned these five questions during her recent presentation at the CWC-Long Beach.

“What’s Your Story? The 5 Essential Questions of Good Storytelling.”

Who is your main character?
What does the protagonist want?
What’s standing in the way of getting it?
Do they succeed or fail?
How did the protagonist change?

I shall share the notes I took during Dale’s seminar, but I would urge you to contact her directly if you need help with your story structure. Dale was my editor, and I truly admire her expert skills at “seeing” the entire story and molding it into one meaningful structure. Her website is: manuscriptconsultant.com

1). When you ask yourself who is your main character? It could be one person or a group protagonist. For example (a group in a lifeboat) all want the same thing. You can also have a dual protagonist, (a couple) or two protagonists with two story lines.

2). What does your protagonist want? This want, is what drives the entire story. Each scene want is different from the overarching want. The want has to be a life or death need for the character.

3). What’s standing in the way of getting it? is where the antagonist forces or obstacles (usually more than one thing) stand in the way. There is conflict, and this must always drive the story forward.

4). Do they succeed or fail? This is the resolution. Do they get what they want? The central dramatic question is answered. Will they succeed?

5). How did the protagonist change? The protagonist(s) has to change in some way. They start out, they have struggles, they become a new being because of it. It can be a subtle change, or a dramatic change, but there has to be an evolution.

Sonia Marsh, DaleGriffiths Stamos Flora Brown at CWC-Long Beach

Dale covered these 5 questions in far more detail during her presentation. I just wanted to give you a few tips to help you think about your story structure.

DALE GRIFFITHS STAMOS is a teacher, a writer, and an award-winning playwright. Please check out her bio here.

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I’m in Florida on vacation and shall post photos from my trip to Key West, and Naples on my Facebook page from time to time. Please check them out.

To Live Life, I Cannot Fear Change by Boyd Lemon

November 18, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 6 Comments

Winter

At age sixty-six, I had lived my whole life in California, most of it on the coast, where the difference between summer and winter is about ten degrees. Some might consider such a climate ideal, and I suppose it is, but I yearned to experience the four seasons. I decided, if not now, when?

I sold my house and sold, gave away or stored most of my possessions, including my car. I rented an apartment in the Back Bay of Boston, sight unseen, and shipped my remaining possessions before I got on a plane, and feeling the rush of freedom, said goodbye to California.

On the plane, a redeye, I knew before the wheels left the ground that I wouldn’t sleep. My mind and body were overflowing with that combination of excitement and fear that took me to the precipice of dysfunction. I labored through those feelings with a firsthand understanding of the workings of human emotion I had recently read about––that fear and excitement result in the same activity within the brain. I feared the cold weather that this California boy had never experienced, the loneliness of knowing only one person in a strange city and a culture that I knew was far different from California.

Upon stepping out of the taxi in front of my apartment building, I slipped on the ice and fell on my ass. Welcome to Boston.

A few days later I awoke at first light, sat up and looked out the window. The world was white. Sheets of snow blew diagonally by my window. My first Nor’ Easter in all its fierceness had been blowing its ice and snow through the night. No sidewalk or street showed through. I could barely make out the top of the yellow fireplug two stories below. Some undeciphered perversity in me wanted to get out there. I dressed while coffee was brewing. After savoring the aroma and taste of the warm coffee sweetened with lots of Stevia, I was even more antsy to get out. This was the real east coast, never before experienced by this California boy, genuine Boston. On top of my regular clothes I donned my Red Sox sweatshirt, jeans–already had on long underwear––and wool socks, then the orange wool scarf my daughter Marsha knitted me last year, my North Face winter coat and heavy, water resistant shoes. I grabbed my ski gloves and keys, locked the door and pulled on the gloves.

Stepping out of the front door of the building, I pulled up the hood of my coat, covering my head and face except my eyes, mouth and nose. I discerned right away that it wouldn’t be wise to try to walk in the deep snow of the unplowed sidewalk.

I felt nothing cold at first, as I trudged down the middle of Haviland Street. The air was thick white. Even the black letters forming “Berklee College of Music” down the street were white. When I got to Massachusetts Avenue (“Mass Ave” to Bostonians), the snowplows were out, their huge blades pushing mountains of snow against the curb. A few cars followed the plow. My feet sank three or four inches into the snow. Warm in all my paraphernalia, I felt nothing much but a numb nose and the flexing of the muscles in my legs as I pushed and pulled my feet in and out of the snow. Paying no attention to the signal lights, but watching the plows and the cars, I crossed Mass Ave and then Boylston and headed for Newbury, fashion alley. The cold air infused me with energy like Southern California weather never had. I could see through the snow for about a block.

On Newbury dozens of men pushed portable snowplows, clearing the sidewalks for the shoppers who would flood the area in a few hours. I had to walk in the street because most of the sidewalks were still deep in snow or occupied by the portable plows. An occasional dog walker appeared like an apparition out of the white. A jogger glided slowly down the middle of the street. Snow hung from the trees like bleached cotton candy. No green showed through on the pines. Bushes looked like a fancy dessert. Everywhere silence pervaded. All sound and even the smells of the city seemed to be absorbed by the snow. A neighborhood that was usually loud with traffic, sirens, horns and people was as quiet as a cemetery. The motorized plows had not yet come to Newbury. I was hungry, but most of the restaurants didn’t open for brunch for another hour, and I didn’t feel like usual breakfast fare. I turned up Dartmouth to go over to Boylston, where Legal Seafood might be open for brunch.

Thoughts of a hot bowl of clam chowder made me trudge a little faster, probably too fast for safety on the slick street. My face started to sting, like tiny electric shocks on my skin. The snow had turned to raining ice, but the prickly feeling on my skin brightened my spirits more. I really am perverted, I thought, as a young man lumbered by me, uttering to nobody in particular, “This really sucks.” I thought it was glorious.

Boom—a huge block of snow slid off the roof of the nineteenth century Public Library just behind me. Boylston had been plowed, and traffic crept down the street, so I had to walk on the sidewalks that had not yet been shoveled or plowed. My legs were tired and weakened from pushing and pulling through the snow. Nothing was open except Trinity Church and Starbucks.

As I lifted one leg and then the other out of the snow, the Prudential Center and Legal Seafood loomed ahead. It continued to rain ice. My whole face was numb. Time to go in, I thought, and I pushed the revolving door. A blast of warm air hit me in the face. I must admit it felt good to remove all my outer paraphernalia and sit down at the bar at Legal Seafood.

“What would you like to drink?” asked Lacy, the server.

“A glass of Champagne,” I said, grinning.

After three years in Boston I moved to Paris, having learned that if I really want to partake in what life has to offer, I mustn’t fear change.

BOYD LEMON: After a stellar 40-year career as a nationally recognized attorney, Boyd Lemon discovered his passion, writing, and pursued it in the idyllic coastal town of Ventura, California; the literary, art and music scenes of Boston; a Bohemian year on the Left Bank in Paris; and finally by the bucolic rivers and forests of St. Marys, Georgia, where he currently lives. Boyd’s newest book is Retirement: A Memoir and Guide. He has published six other books and is now working on his first novel. He has four adult children and four grandchildren. His second passion is travel, and he has visited six of the seven continents.

Here is Boyd’s latest book:

Eat, Walk, Write: An American Senior’s Year of Adventure in Paris and Tuscany

Digging Deep: A Writer Uncovers His Marriages, a memoir about the author’s journey to understand his role in the destruction of his three marriages

And four other books.

Check out Boyd Lemon’s Amazon Author Page for more information:

Click here for excerpts, reviews, interviews and information about all of my books:

Boyd on Facebook:

Facebook Fan Page:

Twitter: @Boydlemon

SONIA MARSH SAYS: What a “Gutsy” adventure, to uproot at age sixty-six, after spending your whole life in California. I am intrigued to learn more about what prompted your move to Paris, after three years in Boston.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” which may be included in our 2nd ANTHOLOGY.

Please view our 1st Published Anthology here.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

Please read the two “My Gutsy Story®” submissions this month from Lola De Maci and Ed Robinson.

Congratulations to Cappy Hall Rearick Winner of October 2013 My Gutsy Story®

November 14, 2013 by Sonia Marsh Leave a Comment

I am thrilled to announce Cappy Hall Rearick as the winner of the October 2013, “My Gutsy Story®” Anthology series.

You certainly had many fans commenting. Well done. Her story, told with such honesty, is about abandoning her children and how her lifeboat was filled with guilt. The ending is heart-warming.

In second place we have Mayu Molina Lehmann

Mayu wrote a story about how English, as a second language, enabled her to write more freely.

In third place we have Don Westenhaver, who wrote a truthful story about his experience at a team-building boot camp.

I also want to thank Joe Weddington, for his amazing “My Gutsy Story®” about staying positive after all his injuries during war, including PTSD, nerve damage and more. A truly inspiring story.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

Our November 2013 stories have started with Lola De Maci and Ed Robinson sharing their “My Gutsy Story®.” Next Monday, Boyd Lemon will share his “My Gutsy Story®.”

How We Took a Leap of Faith and Found Paradise

November 11, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 15 Comments

A Leap Of Faith

My wife and I found ourselves discontented. We had good jobs, a strong marriage and an all around decent, middle class, American life. Somehow it wasn’t enough. We decided to make a change, a really big change.

We decided to quit our jobs and run away to paradise to live on a boat. At first it was a crazy dream. Later, as we planned and took actual real steps to make it happen, it became a true possibility. Eventually we made our dreams come true.

How did we do it? What steps did we take? First we tackled our debt. We continued working hard and made it our life’s goal to eliminate all of our debt. It took several years of dedication, but we finally managed to rid ourselves of every single debt we had. What a feeling!

Next we saved money. Without a car payment or credit card bills this was not so hard. We simply kept on living at the same comfort level we previous enjoyed, but put all the now freed up cash into savings. We maxed out our 401k plan contributions. We put every spare cent in the bank.

Along the way we learned to stop buying things we didn’t need. We simply quit buying anything new unless we could eat it, drink it, or wipe our butts with it. We started donating clothing to Goodwill. As our load was lightened, we started to feel unburdened. It was then that we made the decision to get rid of EVERYTHING. That’s right, we sold or gave away everything we owned, except some clothing, laptop, and a few momentos we couldn’t part with.

One day we decided we had taken enough of the ‘work till you die world’ and we quit the rat race. We loaded our meager remaining belongings into our pickup truck and headed south on I-95 for Florida. Did we have enough money saved to carry us for the rest of our lives? Nope. Did we have enough to hold us over until we reached Social Security age? Probably not. What did we have? We had enough to buy a decent boat and enough to live on for several years. We called it our Leap Of Faith. We were going to live for today. Tomorrow? Who knows?

Oh what a feeling of freedom we enjoyed driving south. We had no job to report to. We had no bills to pay. Of course, we had no home either, but that didn’t matter to us. We were only looking ahead. We landed in Punta Gorda, Florida on January 3, 2010. We rented a condo for a month while we boat shopped. Soon we settled on a gorgeous classic trawler, laid our money down and moved aboard. We named our new home Leap Of Faith.

After a getting acquainted period, we threw the lines, left the marina and set off to explore the west coast of Florida. We lived at anchor, mostly off uninhabited islands. We became one with nature. We made friends with the dolphins and manatees. We staked claim to our own personal beach. Every night we celebrated the sunset. Every night we slept the sleep of the contented.

Once we got our sea legs we began to travel. We cruised to the Keys, hopping from island to island until we landed in Key West.

We cruised north, falling in love with Longboat key and the Manatee River. The place we called home was Pelican Bay, a pristine cove tucked between the islands of Cayo Costa and Punta Blanca. We would spend months isolated from society, returning only to re-provision occasionally. Our love for each other deepened dramatically. We learned so much about each other. We also learned to appreciate the silence sometimes. We slowed down our pace and took in the beauty of nature. We discovered our Eden in Pelican Bay.

Our blood pressure lowered. Our heart rates slowed. Time itself slowed down for us. We lost weight. We felt healthier. We felt happier. We were so damn happy, sometimes we would just sit and laugh at our good fortune. We still feel that way today.

Money? Yes we still had to spend some. Food, fuel, boat maintenance and repairs all added up. Two major boat repairs took a big chunk of what was left of our savings. We lasted three years before we started to get nervous about how little money we had left. I constantly reassured my wife, “It will work out.” Soon enough we returned to civilization. I wrote a book that is selling moderately well at Amazon. I also picked up a part-time job at the marina. My wife is waiting tables in town. I’m well into writing a second book and we are starting to rebuild our bank account.

We have absolutely no regrets. We’ve got egrets, but no regrets. What will we do when the bank account gets big enough? Take off again of course!

ED ROBINSON was a reporter and editor of a weekly newspaper, The Smyrna Times. He was also a contributing writer for The Mariner Magazine, a Maryland based publication covering all things boating and fishing. After twenty years working for a major utility, he quit his job and moved onto a boat. He and his wife Kim are somewhere on the west coast of Florida.

His book Leap Of Faith / Quit Your Job And Live On A Boat is currently a best seller at Amazon.com.

Ed Robinson bookLeapoffaith_EdRobinson.jpg — Click on cover to go to Amazon

Ed’s book is available on Amazon. Please join Ed’s Facebook page.

SONIA MARSH SAYS: So nice to read about a couple who chucked it all to live a simple life. I hope we get a chance to meet you in Florida. Thanks for explaining how you were able to do this, in your memoir.

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PLEASE VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE OCTOBER “My Gutsy Story®” ON THE SIDEBAR

You have until November 13th to vote, and the winner will be announced on November 15th. You can read all 4 stories by clicking this link, and then vote.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” which may be included in our 2nd ANTHOLOGY.

Please view our 1st Published Anthology here.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here