A very strong intense piece here. I'm requesting you to give it a consideration as a pivotal moment in my life and others. Two years ago today on May 3rd, 2024 my life came to a screeching halt tossing me to complete powerlessness with every subsequent move dependent on everyone else around me. I could not move. I only observed. All strangers. No one I had ever seen before and many who I would only hear their voices but never see their faces. “Someone call for 911 fast." “Is he alive? Can he move? What about the other car?" “Oh my God I can't look. I don't think we should move him." “Make sure there is no gasoline leaking. See if you can reach for his wallet to find someone that we can call or check his phone in his contacts." “He missed hitting me by inches. I grabbed my daughter. Poor little girl is crying her heart out.” There was nervous energy and a frenetic excitement with everyone's adrenaline pumping. By-standers were redirecting the traffic. Every car passing by stopped to assess the horror that they would run home and say, “Oh my God you should have seen the accident on M-28. That guy is lucky if he makes it.” And I'm that guy. I could do nothing. I remember blood going down my face into my mouth as my teeth were crushed and I remember my foot had its own voice and it was screaming in agony because it was broken. My right arm was burned from the chemicals that erupted with the deployment of the airbags. Within minutes I was hoisted onto a stretcher and taken to the University of Michigan hospital where I was immediately thrust into an operating room for emergency surgery to have my spleen removed. A nurse had the task to contact my emergency contact Russell Secor in Vermont who immediately then within 20 minutes was on his way to Michigan. Upon his arrival I was resting in a room for hours after the surgery and we both wept upon seeing each other. Two years ago today later in the afternoon Russell came on to this account for the first time to introduce himself as my best friend to inform you I will not be on here for a while and that prayers were needed. I have written many times of my gratitude to Russell and to all of you for embracing him and as you know the rest is history. He eventually started adding humor with his updates as he knew I wanted that. You loved his stories. And you became his friend and he adores all of you. Today I think about the person that called 911 and how I didn't get to say thank you. I didn't get to thank the woman who a few months later I recalled took her hands and brushed glass away from my nose and out of my hair. I was not able to thank the people who checked my car to see if it was about to blow up because of potential gas leaking. I did not get to thank the man who found my phone underneath my car seat to give to the paramedics who would then give it to the nurse who would then call Russell who would then say hello to all of you. It is uncomfortable 2 years later living with an appreciation for people to whom I do not know lacking the knowledge to reach them to offer my grateful sentiments. I can only trust God blessing them. The weeks that followed were tormented with therapeutic healing requiring patience and massive rehabilitation. The unexpected was to come and it remains to this day which is undoubtedly the goodness which are all these relationships that have formed with all of you knowing Russell and Brenda. Remember for those of us who are faithful, good always comes out of that which is ugly. If you have ever performed an act of kindness for someone who is unable to thank you at the time I would like to believe they are grateful to you and we just have to live trusting that, yet I don't believe in these situations that anyone desires being thanked as much as a desire for a successful outcome for the other person whether stranger or acquaintance for good friend.

Totally forgot to share my latest blog post about “aging out” of the #AYAcancer. #NationalCancerSurvivorsDay #LifeOnTheCancerTrain #blogger warriormegsie.com/2026/06/07…

Please I encourage you, my friends, to read this and to please consider reposting. Cindy. I just said your name. I wonder if that brought forth a particular thought or feeling. Margaret, Rosemary, Shirley my Canadian friends I just clearly enunciated your names. Emmy you have been called instead of someone addressing you as ma'am. Noeleen, John, Sue, Sonja, I am addressing you. Mozesella, Anne, Kristen, Colleen, Jeri, you are called. Hello Laura. Good day Barbara, Bobbi, Nancy, Gammie. Happy Saturday Janet, Maryann, Joan, Serena, Jean. Hi Sarah in San Francisco. Tina, Rose, Rosalind, I'm sending you good thoughts. The same good wishes for you Gina, Trisha, Terri. Stephanie, Pam, whatever your plans are for the weekend I hope you find enjoyment. There are moments in our lives that startle us. They stop us. They freeze us for a moment emotionally, mentally and physically. These are the moments if you are like me where you paused and you think did this just happen? And it takes days for it to level out. Because now you have an awareness of something that previously lacked familiarity. Recently when I was leaving the physical therapy center I was stopping at Walgreens and I noticed a woman in the parking lot. She has been there quite a few times. Always in a beautiful blue dress with flip flop sandals on her feet and her hair pulled back in a bun. Probably around 50 years old. I have never seen her approach anybody. She just stands in the parking lot and not even near the door. Curiosity led me to ask the cashier if she knew about this woman and I found out the woman is homeless. A homeless woman with no sign asking for help or even approaching others. The cashier said all she knows is she likes Sprite. It was warm out so I bought the woman two cans of Sprite. I took them to her and I said, “Hi there I understand that you enjoy sprite.” She was very pleased and I asked her how she was doing and her words were, “I'm between moments.” She captivated me with those words. We spoke for a couple of minutes and then to make it more personal I said, “May I ask your name?” She informed me she is Joan and I said, “It's good to meet you Joan.” And with that she placed her hands over her eyes and lowered her hand and softly began to cry. I watched. And then her tears became heavy and forceful leading to sobbing. I gently said, “Joan, can you tell me what's happening right now?” And then it came. The startling moment that I cannot shake. “No one has called me by my name for years."

Help NJ support cancer survivors and caregivers by completing our Cancer Survivorship Survey. You can shape the future by letting us know what information, resources, and support matter most to you. Answers are anonymous. bit.ly/NJCancerSurvivorshipS… #HealthierNJ

So much this! @oncology_bg expresses what we patients have been saying for years - don’t trivialize AEs, don’t use adjectives like “tolerable” unless you’ve taken the drug, just give us the facts.

“You’re so Brave” … nohalfmeasures.blog/2026/06/… #bcsm