Right idea, wrong cancer

Ironically, I used to be on the Board of the Georgia Ovarian Cancer Alliance, and helped them start a program called the Bag of Hope. The Bag of Hope is a bag of stuff designed to help you get through your cancer treatment, things that aren’t generally thought about. The contents came from survivors’ suggestions about things they thought useful or nice to have or good for their mental state.

Well, GOCA was kind enough to give me one, too, in spite of the fact that I have a different cancer, and in fact, lack ovaries at all. I dropped by the GOCA offices today and picked mine up.

First, the bag itself is really nice. It’s black with lime accents, and the GOCA logo embroidered on the side. It’s heavy nylon, and has two outside pockets. This is a bag I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen carrying anywhere.

Within, there’s a packet of information provided by CancerCare. There are seven different booklets on everything from taking care of your skin to communicating with your health care providers, and a pile of one-page sheets on similar topics, and how to get additional help. There’s also a coupon for 25% off a week’s worth of food from Fresh•N•Fit Cuisine, who delivers healthy meals.

There’s also the National Coalition for Cancer Survivorship Toolbox, which is a book and ten audio CDs that follow the stages of cancer from new diagnosis through dying well. (Hopefully you don’t really need that last CD.)

There’s also a DVD of ovarian cancer survivor stories, which I’ve seen, since I helped get them published to the GOCA website. A great resource for creating hope.

There’s the Cancer Updates Research, and Education (CURE) Cancer Resource Guide, showing you where to get additional assistance.

There’s a high-quality baseball cap with the GOCA logo embroidered. As a head-shaver, losing my hair isn’t going to be as big of a deal, but you can’t beat a good quality baseball cap.

There’s also a pair of socks and a fleece blanket to keep you warm, particularly during chemo. Apparently chemo rooms are generally cold. The socks have rubber treads, too, so you don’t fall down. Important when you’re weakened from chemo, I would think.

There’s a water bottle. I know I’ll be using this, since I’ve already been told that I’ll need to drink almost constantly to keep flushing what is essentially dead lymphocytes from my system, and I’m on a drug that’s going to have me peeing pretty constantly, too. Not that I’d pee in the bottle…

There’s a nice journal, as well, with a leather-feel cover, embossed with the GOCA logo, and a pen. I’ve heard that I should keep a side effects journal, so I may use it for that.

There’s a GOCA shopping bag made from recycled water bottles. Not sure the specific idea behind that, but who can’t use a shopping tote?

There’s also the obligatory ribbon pin and rubber bracelet, with the addition of a silver ribbon on a black string engraved with the word “hope.” Those will probably be going to my daughter after I explain to her what’s going on.

Overall, I’m grateful that GOCA has this program and puts these together, and given one to me. They’re a very small charity with a great mission, I’d encourage you to make a donation to keep programs like this going.