Why I Raise Money for Lung Cancer Research

On September 19th, Alex and I will be running the 5K portion of the Chicago Lung Run 2015. (http://LungRun.kintera.org/2015/anniewatsonjohnson) the following is the reason we run. This is my 11th year participating, and I do it for mom. The story is long, I apologize, but I hope it holds your interest enough to finish it. ;)

April 10th of 2002 at near 3PM my mom looked at me, gasping her last breaths. I told her that everything would be fine, I would take care of Doug (my brother) and it was ok if she went. Around her were my step-father, my husband, my aunt and my grandmother. It was that moment, that breath, when all time stopped for me. All I could do was look at her, not even knowing if she saw me, but she was looking over at me, and I knew I couldn't cry... I had to smile, I had to convince her it was ok that Doug wasn't there. It was ok to let go even though others were crying, and her husband was begging her to stay. She looked away from me and back up at the ceiling, gasped once... twice... and left us. 

I was numb.

I had just sat up with her, holding her hand, for almost 36 hours, willing her to stay until my brother could get back. When I'd leave her, I'd tuck this small teddy bear that the hospital chaplain had dropped by when he visited. What a 60 year old, dying woman needed with a teddy bear, I didn't know at the time. But when I had to go to the bathroom, or check in on my aunt and grandmother, I would tuck his furry body under her hand, whisper I'd be right back, and sneak out of the room with snoring men. 

I didn't know she was at the point of leaving us and I hadn't gotten my brother called early enough to get back from Dubai. I kept thinking, if I could just keep the human contact...talk to her...try to keep her with us till Doug could get back. It wasn't meant to be. I truly believe if my brother had been there when she died, he wouldn't have had consoling memories, he would have had disturbing ones. She knew that better than I.

Doug had just been home at Christmas, our first as a family in forever. We said what we needed to say to each other. I will cherish that Christmas, always.

Mom and I cleaning up the wrapping from Christmas presents. This would be mom's last Christmas with us in 2001.

But as I was alluding to in the title,  I walk in memory of my mom. 

(clockwise from upper right) Mom as a toddler; Great-Grandmother Graham (l.) with Caroline on her lap and Grandmother with mom on her lap; Grandmother, mom and Granddad; Granddad, mom and Grandmother; Grandmother, Great grandmother & Granddad Beanblossom, Great-Great Grandmother Shireman and mom.

My mom was born in January of 1942 in Indiana to Paul & Louise Beanblossom. A hefty number of years later, my aunt, Sue, would follow as the youngest daughter. 

Both of my grandparents were teachers in the public school system. Granddad eventually was a Principal, as wellWhen they weren't teaching, they were planting around the house. Granddad always had a great garden, but spent many an hour duplicating and refinishing antiques. He loved his wood shop. Granddad was the only child to survive of his parents. His mother named him Paul Adam, two names from the bible, after losing her other children. He lived to be 80. My grandmother was one of 7 children. She was one of the truest Christians I ever knew, in word and deed, but never pushed her faith on anyone. She led by example. She sewed up a storm, and made crafts every year for Christmas, and served her community for her entire life. Grandmother lived to be 94.

My mom was an honor student, a writer, a smart ass and funny. I've shared her writing in some other posts on here. She definitely had an opinion, something she taught me well. She also survived polio. She was confined to an iron lung to help her breath. The disease had affected her abdominal muscles, the muscles in her left hand, right arm, etc. But she lived. She beat it. She also never grew another inch. While she had once been the tallest girl in the class, the disease had kept her from moving any higher.

(from upper left, clockwise) Teen mom on the phone, probably with a boy; High school mom; grade school mom; Mom and friend with a very adorable, Sue; @mom and dad's wedding Granddad, Mom, Grandmother and Sue.

She married my dad at 20 years old. She had been attending Butler University in Indiana, and working on her B.A. in English. She married dad because he was moving away, and he proposed.

I followed, not long after their marriage (yes, more than 9 months). Mom was 21, dad was 25, when I took my first breath. Doug arrived a year and 11 months later.

Like any young couple, they had their ups and downs. Doug and I were a handful to say the least. And when we grew up in NJ, dad had a job that kept him away during the week and home on weekends. Mom was an avid feminist (but again, so was dad) and led the League of Women Voter's. She also worked with some friends of hers and kept the lights on and the library open for our little hamlet in Ringwood. She encouraged me to join Little League when little girls didn't do that kind of thing, but she knew that I was competitive and there were no softball leagues for kids my age. So, she sat up on the hill, when I played, and shouted down the nay sayers.

(from upper left, clockwise) Mom and Grandmother; Grandmother, me and mom; Me and mom; Doug, Mom, Grandmother and Granddad; me and mom in Martha's Vineyard.

She was a 5' spit fire. She had a wicked wit and an amazing brain that held more useless information than anyone would need to consistently win at Trivial Pursuit, and she did. She taught me how to play Scrabble, how lose myself in a book and how to enjoy very diverse music.

I knew that moving to Ohio when I was a freshman in high school, was EXTREMELY hard on her. She was a liberal feminist thrown right in the middle of the bible belt and 180 degree beliefs. The League of Women Voters was run by a men, and few women. She found that disheartening. While she could make friends, she didn't have any GOOD friends, save our neighbor, to do things with and hang out. When they came around with a petition to prevent a women's health clinic from opening, she refused to sign, that was her neighborhood death nell. But I didn't realize the impact, because I was having my own problems with the same issues, but among my peers.

It was also during this time that mom had quit smoking (she barely smoked a pack a day, most days under). They had diagnosed her with high blood pressure. She started taking BP medication. And began trying to take back her health.

When I went to college, my parents moved to Illinois during my senior year. When I graduated, I moved back in with them for a while. It was an interesting time. I was 22 years old, but still their kid, but more of a roommate. I moved out a year or so after coming home. It was during that point that mom seemed to be getting worse. She couldn't walk to the mailbox without coming back in and taking a nap. The doctors were treating her for BP and depression now. My dad said, "no, this isn't right." and loaded her into the car and took her to Mayo Clinic.

She had post polio problems. This was a new arena for most doctors. All the boomers that had had polio were now showing signs of muscle degeneration and weakening. Mom's abdominal muscles were not pushing the CO2 out of her lungs. Her O2 levels were in the 60% area. For most of us, that would mean death. But because it had happened over YEARS, they think as far back as Ohio, her body had adjusted to it.

She was put immediately on a bi-pap machine to sleep at night. It helped her breath in and out, and kept her O2 levels in the right range.

It wasn't until my parents divorce, after 35 years of marriage that she and I had some serious discussions about life, lessons and what we compromise and how fragile she really was for a good portion of her life. She remarried her other high school sweetheart, and moved to Virginia. She was trying to make up for time, but discovered she was just in a different location with different problems.

It was also during this time that they travelled a lot, and mom loved that part of the relationship. When they travelled they tended to stay at military housing, since my step-dad was a logistics instructor for the army. It was inexpensive. When she got back from one trip she commented to me that her filter in her bi-pap was black. I said, "that can't be good?!" She thought not too.

(from upper left, clockwise) My college graduation from Dad, my Grandfather & Grandmother Watson, Doug, Grandmother, me, Mom, Sue and Granddad; Mom at her second wedding; outside my grandparents house Sue, me, Dad, Grandmother, mom, Granddad and Doug; @mom's wedding Grandmother, mom and Sue.

Mom had a cough that wouldn't go away. She'd felt down and sickly for a while. She went to the doctor. He took an X-ray. There was a spot on her lung. He wasn't sure what it was, but wanted to take the lobe and some lymph nodes to see what was going on. Well, it was lung cancer cells in her lung, but they appeared to be dead around the mass and there were none in her lymph nodes. When she asked about radiation or chemo, he thought that wouldn't be necessary... they'd just do X-rays every three months.

A few months later, it was in both of mom's lungs, her spine and her shoulder blade. She had Stage IV lung cancer, and when she went to Johns Hopkins they told her there wasn't anything to do, but determine quality of life.

I lost my mom 6 months later.

I walk for her. I walk for all the names on the back of my shirt I wear, who have lost their battle as well...and for their families who are still with us.

Thank you, Chicago Lung Run for giving me a chance to try and make a difference, by supporting research into lung cancer treatments and hopefully a cure!

If you'd like to support me and Alex in our 5K run for Mom, please click on the following link: http://LungRun.kintera.org/2015/anniewatsonjohnson
and make a donation. Anything helps us reach our goal. (below are the names from last year's shirt I wore for the walk)

Lesson One: What's Your Story?

I had my first failure as I live my life without fear.

Guess what?

I didn't die. 

I don't feel bad about myself. 

I want to do it again!

I recently applied for a PR Comms job with The Onion. This was straight up traditional position that required media contacts and established relationships. While I have done ALL of this, it's been years since I was out there, working the media list. Recently, the most I've done has been some promotional postings in the social realm for a philanthropic organization and my brother's racing page.

I knew about 5 minutes into the call that this was not going to move to a second interview, but I stuck it out to try and refine my "elevator speech" for myself.

THAT was the lesson of this call, this first fearless attempt for a job outside my comfort zone.

Could I have done the job? Yes, or I wouldn't have applied. But even I wanted to recommend a couple of others that I knew would hit the ground running, and give The Onion the coverage and plan that it deserved. I respect the company, and wanted to provide more viable options for them. My integrity was winning the internal dialogue.

But, back to the crux of the issue identified in this call... 

What DO I want to say about myself? How am I going to explain what I can bring to an organization? What is my sales pitch, for me? What's MY story? 

If I can't sell myself, how do I expect to convince others why I'm the right choice? It sounds simple, but you don't realize how derailed you can get, if you're not focused.

So, I started a list of strengths I feel I can bring to an organization/team. Simple words, not industry-speak. I needed them to be simple so I wasn't confusing the situation or the interviewer. It will help you to not "over-share" and to be very focused on what you want to convey about yourself.

There will always be questions about your experience. Here's where a secondary list comes into play. What have you accomplished? What did those strengths result in creating/leading to/contributing? What STORIES have you shaped out of what you've done before?

Then, for your internal dialogue, what do YOU want out of this next job? What do YOU hope to accomplish? What are YOUR priorities if you take it? One of mine is that I want to find a place where the people genuinely LIKE working with each other, where a "culture statement" isn't necessary, it just "is."

Lastly, have a list of questions you want to ask. They are going to have to be questions for different audiences; 

1. HR/Screening call; 
2. Hiring HR rep/Senior member (probably your boss); 
3. The team you'll be working with/for or over. They all have different points-of-view when it comes to you being hired, so make sure you recognize that and prepare for them each, separately.

The next interaction I have for a job, I will have my "elevator speech" and questions...and in the first five minutes, I will know if I nailed it or if I need to refine it, but I'll go into it with confidence and a story.

We are the SUM of our experiences, our lessons, so how do we tell our story to others? How we share those stories will define us to others. So, take care, craft your story well, and share with an honest heart.

Chapter 51+

A unique set of circumstances has left me starting a brand new chapter in my life.

Here I sit, fifty-one years old, twenty-five years of experience in advertising/pr new business pitch process and production, a series of eclectic abilities that I've attained over 25 years, and an opportunity to recreate myself. 

Have I piqued your interest? 

::queue suspense-building music accompanied with booming movie trailer voiceover::

What will she do? What will she become? Who is going to snap this renaissance woman up first? Will she amass a fortune? Will she save the children? What will become.....

::abrupt scratch and stop::

First I have to a take a look at what I have done, what I enjoyed most and what I can do without. When you're talking twenty-five years of experiences, it's a lot to assess. 

I've worried that I've amassed all these skills that can't be pigeon holed into one job description (see my linkedin profile), or as my friend, Marc Landsberg so many skills that you're, "1" deep and a mile wide." That phrase has resonated with me since I heard him use it to describe someone who does a lot of things "ok". What I realized was that though I have many skills, I do have stronger, precise skills that are served by the many.

I'm a problem solver.

You might be saying, "well, duh, isn't any successful worker?" I'd answer with, "you'd hope so, but it's not always the case." Individuals like myself look for solutions until one is found. Anyone can identify a problem, but those of us out there that keep working it until we have a successful resolution, we're not everywhere. 

I am a calming force.

When others start to break, I don't. It gets done. It always gets done. So, I don't see a reason to panic or get upset. And I make sure it gets done.

I can work with employees at any level.

People are people. Some have titles that, on paper, appear to set them higher or lower than other people, at work. What I see is talent that has been assigned to work on the project. How I leverage that talent and in what role of the project I assign them, is purely based on what the outcome of the project has been determined. I can navigate strong personalities and empower participants to bring their "A" game.

Supplemental Skills:

I have enough practical experience to be able to turn on a dime, if necessary.

What that means is, I can see when we're headed to a burning wreck and can adjust and suggest changes to get us back on the path. I've experienced enough crash/burn and success situations to be able to identify problems or to keep tracking on positive paths to keep things moving forward to a unifying outcome.

 I am an aggregator of talent (team builder, in simple terms). 

When left to my own devices, I can review, evaluate and hire the correct talent for a project. As long as I know the deliverable, the personality of the department, and where the department is going. 

I understand tech.

In this world of social media trends, online presence, shared vs. paid amplifications, brand personality, social channels... I could continue, but you have to understand the landscape. I've had several friends my age, who have found themselves back in the job hunt, and are consistently criticized for not having digital acumen. I understand it and participate in it through several of the popular channels: Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest, Twitter, eblogger, and Instagram. I've been online since '92, in it's infancy. 

As one of those people who is entering a new chapter, I want my pages filled with exciting, prolific, and positive prose. I want to prove that you're never too old to embrace your life and give it a twirl. I want to shed the fear of failure that's kept me places way too long. I want to work in a world where honesty and good works are the norm, and treating your coworkers with respect isn't a line in a company manifesto, but actually embraced. I want to work with people who constantly challenge themselves and invite you along for the ride. I want the next 20 years of my work-life to be meaningful in some way.

This is my chapter to write. I will write it without fear. I will write it without prejudice. I will write it for myself, and not to prove others wrong about their notions of who I am. I will fill it with love, acceptance, family and friends. I will learn from the lessons that often come from making bold changes.  

Has this gotten me closer to identifying the job I want? Sure it has, but not in a traditional sense. It's given me a series of criteria that have to be met, and what skills I have to sell. The rest, is up to me. 

So, if you get my resume with a pithy cover letter, understand that I want to work with you and I believe we're a perfect match. Then it's up to you to give me fifteen minutes to convince you of the same. I'm confident I will.

Otherwise, the next chapter's being written as I type, so I hope to see you back here when I have more to say and share. 

Touching lives

I've had the unique opportunity to hear from a lot of folks I've worked with over the last 4 years, from all over the US and as far away as Germany.

You truly don't know sometimes, how many people you've touched, helped and influenced because there never seems to be a good "reason" to share that information. But when that opportunity presents itself, it's amazing what's shared. I'm thinking a new habit for me will be sharing as I go.

If you're me, you work hard to do the right thing, move things forward, help your team grow both in numbers and in knowledge. You strive to learn and improve your own skills. You share those learnings with others, thereby perpetuating their growth. All reminiscent of the early days of civilization where stories shared were the modes of understanding.

It's been heartwarming to have so many reach out and share, and amazing in it's ability to assuage my self-doubt. It helps bolster those positives that you need to believe and hold on to. For many of us one bad comment always wipes out 30 positives. (yet, another habit I have to break)

I guess I am on the right path.

Lovely note from a young designer I worked with at
Leo Burnett. I love that we still are in touch and I get to
travel along his journey this lifetime. I'm honored.

When I look at my friends lists on Facebook or LinkedIn it's filled with diversity of age, ethnicity and experience. I am proud that I have a 94 year old friend and friends in their 20s; farmers, politicians, actors, marketers, stay-at-home parents, gun law lobbyists, paintball players, artists (fine AND crafts), homeschoolers, prep schoolers, drop outs, innovators, socialists and social sharers, chefs and bartenders, CEOs and nannies... and these are the labels that others attribute. I just call them friends and family. But I think it's poignant and necessary to have that range of friends and family. It allows you to have insight into different lives that you may not be living yourself, and be totally disconnected from, and these relationships provide you an opportunity for understanding.

As I add years to my life, what doesn't change is how much I love people...how you can learn from anyone...if you're open to it...if you listen more than talk...if you avoid judgment...if you are free of prejudice, there's so much sharing to be done.

And the cool thing is the lives that you touch, can touch others... I was just reminded, as I'm typing this, how you can touch and change lives. When working at my current job, I had the opportunity to bring an improv/actor friend in to facilitate a workshop we were doing. My talented friend, Jennifer Estlin agreed to do it. Another of the facilitators who we had worked with earlier, Jennifer Reeder (who was known for her amazing, short-films that she would not only direct but write), was participating this time as well. Jen and Jen got to know each other through the process, and Jen R cast Jen E in a new piece she was producing. Tonight they are sitting in Park City, UT at Sundance watching that film, Million Miles Away, being shown at the festival.

That's freaking awesome.

We touch lives every day, even if it's a thank you for holding the door, or flipping the guy off who just almost hit your car. Decide how you want to be perceived and act accordingly.

Be open, be kind, be honest... and be prepared for the fact that some will not like you... but most will. Be amazed when connections are made... be humbled when you are trusted... be aware of the words you choose.

Again... be open, be kind, be honest.