It's not chemo. It's therapy.

When we learned that my wife Charlotte needed surgery to remove two large and potentially cancerous tumors from her abdomen, I did what a lot of people do these days. I sent an email alerting friends and family about our situation. After Charlotte’s surgery, I sent another email update. Toward the end of her hospital stay, I sent another.During this beginning stage of her excursion with cancer, many people encouraged me to set up a blog or join one of the websites where I could post updates for all to view. These propositions felt uncomfortable. In a world where social media can get out of control, we wanted to control our situation as best we could and decided against these avenues. I took charge of communication by drafting and sending an email every Friday.The personal touch of the direct email felt natural. We had direct correspondence with our community, and their responses brought smiles to our faces – often in a manner that would have been inappropriate had the responder posted a reply online for the world to read.What we didn’t contemplate or comprehend was the buzz the weekly emails would create and the power of the forward button. Hundreds of people were on the original distribution list; thousands and thousands read the emails.The collection of emails – along with comments and explanations added later in retrospect – have been compiled into a book soon to be available on amazon. Charlotte and I hope that our journey and what we learned can be helpful or even inspirational to others in challenging circumstances. Please join us in that hope …