And That’s How You Narrate A Story

Mark recently shared with its makers the story of a happy family who almost lost everything and the one husband who had to keep them all together — I mean, how Marketcircle‘s Daylite Productivity Suite saved his sanity.

Here it is:

If you’ve ever had to deal with a cancer diagnosis in your family, you’re probably familiar with the changes it imposes on your life how it plays with your cognitive focus. This is what my family experienced when my wife, Andrea Ross, SMS’d me on October 6, 2009 with two big-small words: “It’s cancer.”

After I overcame the shock, I realized I would have to be Andrea’s chearleading champion and primary support. I half-jokingly announced to anyone I spoke to that I was taking on the role of project manager of Andrea’s treatment program. I also realized I would have to be coordinator of the family members and friends who emerged as our support system. In the process, I had to learn the medical language of cancer.

Daylite was the perfect tool to stay on top of our new life. It was my co-pilot. I maintained contact records and meeting notes for our new world which included a surgeon, medical oncologist, radio-oncologist, Breast Cancer Clinic case worker, Patient Designated Nurse (PDN) and a home care nurse. There were surgical prep appointments, an arsenal of tests, three surgeries and all the related recovery information, nuclear medicine appointments, energy treatments, blood tests, six chemo treatments over 18 weeks, six weeks of radiation treatment (30 in all) and port-a-cath flushes.

If that’s not enough, our family still had to function as one. Daylite helped me keep track of our daughters’ (then eight and ten years old) extra-curricular activities and invitations from friends and family who hosted them for playdates, ski outings, dinners and sleepovers.

I depended heavily on Daylite’s ability to link appointments, phone calls, emails and contacts to task and projects. I kept good notes in the details and meeting minutes fields. I can’t think of a feature of Daylite that didn’t help me keep my wits about me.

Daylite Touch was a fantastic tool, as well. I used it to stay on top of everything wherever I was. Having said that, I couldn’t have the 3G features of my iPhone enabled in most of the hospital, and I was more than conscious of the stigma attached to taking “handheld notes” during face-to-face meetings. So, I kept handwritten notes using my Livescribe Pulse Smartpen (livescribe.com) and attached the PDFs into appropriate records in Daylite. This saved me missing important information and allowed me to avoid a double entry note system. It was a snap!

I’m excited beyond words that Andrea’s been given a clean bill of health. The busiest part of her treatment program ended in time for us to enjoy an amazing and re-connecting summer. She returned to work in September. She have another four years of Tamoxifen and has lingering discomfort from the assault on her body. You learn to love life and live it all over again.

Did Daylite save Andrea’s life? No. Mine? Perhaps. We’ll never know. What I do know is there’s no way I could have kept my wits about me while tracking of all of the goings-on using any other personal organization software – definitely not as efficiently or effectively.

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Thank you, 2010

I absolutely adored 2010.
We were healthy, happy and together.
We had loads to celebrate. And we celebrated often.

Yet, reflecting on the year, this morning, I was shocked at its rockiness.

Where reactions and reconnections reigned 2009, 2010 was a year of overcoming obstacles. Of attempted relationship resuscitations. Of some painful — yet freeing — realizations. And relief.

It was a year of adjusting to the new me.
And of testing out the me that has been there all along.

As I reflected on 2009 and looked hopefully toward 2010, I never dreamed of the treat I had in store.

And I have high hopes for 2011.

Thank you, 2010. Welcome, 2011.

Some Zigs and Zags of our 2010:

February 6 (our 11 year wedding anniversary)

Our insurer refuses to honour my critical life and disability insurance claim.

This was a cruel and devastating blow. Not only because they robbed us but after stringing us along for 4 months but because I’d been over-insured for the twenty some years leading up to my leap from Nortel six months before my diagnosis.

April 1

Chemo ends!

And life begins afresh.

April 22

We are spared the pain of the long-awaited trial and Keith Ross accepts a Section 810 Peace Bond which prohibits him from having any contact with us for a period of 12 months..

Our world has been peaceful since.

May 20 (Mark’s 40th birthday)

The perfect storm of physical, financial, parenting and family challenges bring me to my knees.

Yet we survived.

June 15

Radiation ends.

We did it.

June 21

I take a first bite at my fear of public speaking.

I’m so glad I did. (Photo thanks to Alexa Clark.)

June 16-Sept 13

My first summer with my lovelies since Bayla was a newborn.

The most fabulous summer of relaxing, reading, biking and being with my lovelies.

August 28

Our long, long, long awaited victory celebration.

Wine, munchies and good, good people.
Pure bliss.

September 14

Back to work.

Two more days a week than I had hoped but simply grand to have an income again.

November 25

Port-a-cath gone.

Scary and thrilling.

December 22

We celebrate fifteen fabulous years of Mark Blevis.

Lucky, lucky me.

Thank you, 2010… Let’s all enjoy a happy, healthy 2011.

Hey, Hermano

The bannister above our stairs is home to our broken clothes. Lonely garments linger there awaiting a two-minute zip on my sewing machine — collecting dust and, often, being outgrown.

I’d rather sew three new outfits than grab those wounded wearables and stitch their gaping rips.

As I sloppily sewed up a dog-bitten seam this morning, I wondered why.

Beyond the obvious — time crunch, procrastination and the excitement of building versus the fixing grind — I realized it’s that sometimes repair’s not what’s needed.

Much-loved items are either fine with their foibles or restored in emergency fixes between breakfast and school. They skip the bannister entirely.

Other items are damaged beyond — or made worse by — repair.

And those worn out items that wait forgotten on the railing would often otherwise be drawer-clutterers.

Eventually, it gets to me. And the dusty lingerers are tossed.

This year, 2010, saw the end of all four of our sibling relationships:

My absent brother remained so.
My “close” sister turned out to be a fair weather friend.
And our efforts to repair the long-damaged relationships with Mark’s two sisters just caused pain, confusion, combustion and, finally, renewed, widened rifts.

We’re heading into the new year with a clean bannister.
It feels fine.

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Glad I Grabbed That Brownish Area By Its Points

Fifteen years ago today, my dream life began.

It was a Christmas party in the suburbs. Both of us invited by total fluke.

He was a gangly young guy with a patchy beard, a grass green sweater and an ear-to-ear smile.

I was on a first date. But not with him.

I arrived at the party just as he was preparing to leave it.
But he stayed.
We talked.
And he left with my girlfriend’s email address.

Little did I know he’d make — and save — my life.

Lucky, lucky me.

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Creative Collisions

Tonight was the first ever Creator Camp.

I was thrilled to take a dip in creativity soup with quilters, painters, writers, musicians, speakers, photographers, storytellers, bakers. And more.

I was grateful for reminders:

  • to recognize grueling social situations as creative challenges
  • to start small and draw on what we know
  • to notice our creative sweet spots — an empty canvas can be much more inhibiting than a tiny space,  a specific problem or a single missing harmony
  • to appreciate our creativity in its overlooked forms and sizes
  • that creative goals require decision, commitment, scheduling and enjoyment
  • to keep expectations low
  • to recognize creative drought as a valuable time of regeneration and renewal
  • to be present
  • to take ourselves less seriously
  • to create.

And, most of all, I was captivated by the collision of my various lives:

  • Bob, Julien, Bob and Sue, podcasting friends
  • Alexa, who I met in grade 8
  • Louise and Tom, who are currently my coworkers
  • Candice, who I met through a anti-cancer food for web services barter
  • My long lost cousin, Susan.

A truly amusing sliced life stew.

Huge thanks to Louise, Tom, Alison, Sue, Christopher and CC for the thought-provoking presentations and to everyone who made time on a cold midweek evening to share an evening of inspiration.

What have we always said is the most important thing?

This week, I spent two luxurious days in my first hometown — gabbing and gobbling with my lost and found cousin, Kelly.

During our wonderfully relaxing and restorative weekend, we wandered through pockets of memories from my childhood, my adolescence, my wild university days, my young adulthood and my pre-me extended family.

It felt odd to cross paths with the many versions of me. With my lost and found cousin. In my lost and found life.

Scary stats and niggling twinges of mortality can make me antsy about the quantity of time ahead.

Drifting in and out of these memory-packed spaces reminded me that life is short at the best of times. But, more importantly, that even short personal eras can pack huge whacks of life.

Here’s to great memory-making ahead.

Relief

A good portion of the last three weeks I’ve spent fending off terror. Battling my brain away from fabricated scenes of brutally big, bad news.

Thanks to two marble-sized lymph nodes and a slew of spin-off concerns.

This morning was my three-month oncology appointment. My oncologist poked in all the scary places and pronounced All is well.

What relief.

Rising from the imaginary-dead every couple of months sure makes it easy to keep appreciating my beautiful, beautiful life.

Now to start trusting my body again. It’s got me this far, and done a fine job of it. It’ll fare even better when my worry-war is won.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.
It’s a beautiful life.

Thanksgiving – One Year of Survival

Last week — as part of my new risky living — I joined Toastmasters. I was scheduled to present a “thought-for-the-day” at today’s Thanksgiving week meeting. But it was canceled so I’m sharing it here…

A year ago today, as I left a meeting of the EDC Charitable Campaign, I got a call.

It was my doctor telling me “I’m afraid I don’t have good news. It’s cancer.”

I listened. I texted Mark. I scrawled a few notes.
Then I excused myself from the office and walked home.

I thought that was the end. The end of me.

But it wasn’t.
I’m still here. And I’m stronger, happier and more grateful than ever.

None of us knows what tomorrow will bring.
But we do know what we have right now. Our families. Our friends. Our working limbs. Our pain-free, healthy bodies. Our peace. Our freedom. Our homes. Our incomes.

Our hair.

Marrianne Williamson said “Joy is what happens when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things are.”

We can call it gratitude or we can call it joy. Whatever we call it, all our moments are better lived when we focus on all the good we have right now.

So let’s.

Wishing you and yours a very happy Thanksgiving.

Thank you

Thank you so much for joining me in my effort to raise money for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation by sponsoring me here.

You donated $6308! and put both me and our No Pink for Profit team among the top ten fundraisers for all of Ottawa-Gatineau (which is pretty good, considering there were more than 9,000 participants).

It couldn’t have been a more gorgeous day.

Thank you for the research you have made possible.
Thank you for the spirits you have raised.
Thank you for the families you have buoyed.
And thank you for all the little girls who may live without breast cancer’s shadow.

My sincere thanks to all of you for your generosity and your moral and financial support:

Sue Breen
Dave Delaney
Simon Chen
Farida Dowler
Tom Merritt
Anne Donnadieu
Deborah Freedman
Victor Ciobanete
Amanda Kelman
Louise Legault-Hatem
Glen McGregor
Carla Howatt
Anne Wiltshire
Jan Annino
Zetta Elliot
Mitch Joel
Sue Murphy
Carolyn Dittburner
Linda Corsini
Corinne Demas
Kaveh Adel
Heather Jopling
Lee Edward Fodi
Snookie & Norman Lomow
Sheree Fitch
Pam Hunter
Anita Neubert
Bob Goyetche
Kevin Chouinard
Evelina Vezarov
Heather Duggan
Mare Swallow
Todd and Christie Bastianon
Ana-Maria Popescu
Lori-Ann, Curtis & Olivia
Laura Bergen
Paul & Sheri Goulet
Kelly Clavette
Todd Tyrtle
Heidi Estrin
Dave Fleet
Eden Spodek
Esmé Codell
Anthony Marco
Angela Misri
Troy Wilson
The Waters Family
Alvina Ling
Katie Davis
Hugh McGuire
Mark Tafoya
Miranda McCurlie
Isabelle Michaud
Liz Murray
Jim Puckalo
Dwayne Melançon
Tamir Israel
Jennifer Johnston
Shari Greenspan
Phenix Dental Clinic Team
Janice Toewes
Sydney Lennie
Eden Spodek
Stephanie Lawrence
Tracy Bialecki
Connie Crosby
John Sparks
Candace Ryan
Morris Johnston
Jeff & Margie Hooper
The Sinanan Family
Carol Grannick
Coreen Corcoran
Rich Cantrell
Patricia Kahn
Sriram Venkatarman
Stacey MacNevin
Ebony Haywood
Joan Buzick
Tanglewood Books
Mary Antolovich
Jay Schmidt
Daniele Rossi
The Bonsall/Small Family
Joanne Lennon
Greg & Andree O’Donnell
Betti Stiff
Cher & Mo Willems
The Giassa/Whammond Family
Whitney and John Hoffman
Barbara Reid-Crysler
Geoffrey Butler
Bert and Rhoda Blevis
Armeda Vanderwoude
Wilf and Barb Clavette
Clare Rogers
Denise Doyen
Garry and Kathi Tysick
Stephanie Calmenson and Mark Goldman
Carol Heyer
Diane Greenseid
Cathy Arneson
Nancy Pevey
Lane Smith and Molly Leach
William Flanagan
Orit Fruchtman
Diane DeGroat
Sally Ito
Hugh Brewster
Paul Zelinsky
Tania Carriere & Gerry Gaetz
Marla Frazee
Bob Ledrew
Tanya Snook
Robert McCarty
Richard Christie
Chris Brogan
Tom Tentoglou
Mary Lee Hahn
The Gupta/Gustyn Family
Andrew Quayle

Be happy and be well.
Love,
Andrea
xo

Eureka!

“What is narcissism? It’s not what you think it is: It’s not ego. It’s not self-love. It’s self-loathing. Envy. Insecurity. Self-destruction.

The key to understanding the narcissism myth is not that he fell in love with himself, but that he failed to recognize himself in his own reflection. In other words, true narcissists are not self-aware.

A real narcissist is dissociated from his or her true self; he feels haunted by chronic feelings of loneliness, emptiness, and self-loathing and seeks to replace that disconnection with a sense of worth and importance fueled by others.

Narcissism is also marked by a profound lack of empathy, a fundamental inability to understand and connect with the feelings of others. Taken together, these are the traits psychologists measure in diagnosing what’s known as narcissistic personality disorder (NPD).”

The Mirror Effect  Dr. Drew Pinsky and Dr. S. Mark Young

“Narcissistic people create images of themselves to broadcast to the world, trying desperately to have those images be loved by the general populace or by their peers. Deep down, they are insecure and don’t think much of themselves.”

Dave Roy. Curled Up With A Good Book

The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

    I’m often asked for tips for newly diagnosed breast cancer patients, their family and friends. But every situation is different — and it’s tough to tell which of or whether my choices have actually helped.

    The best I can do is offer personal reflections on my various decisions.

    So, here is a rambly whack of them…

    The Good: I’m glad I chose to…

    Insist on a Port-a-cath
    Although I was fairly terrified leading up to it, the port-a-cath installation procedure turned out to be a total breeze — and well worth the cyborg result. My port-a-cath saved a good length of vein from chemo-induced damage and allowed me unrestricted, convenient use of both arms for my 18 weeks of chemo. Mark’s pretty eager to have it removed, but as long as I have blood-work to be done, I’m thrilled to have this built-in valve.
    Look to real-life role models
    This journey would have been lonely and dismal were it not for the brilliant examples and support of friends like Caroline, Laurie, Derek, Gloria and Eden, whose dignity, courage, resilience and generosity showed me that life is what you choose to make it.
    I am so immensely grateful to these shining lights.
    Stay active
    I’m convinced that getting up and out of my PJs each morning, doing breakfast and walking to school with Luba, sticking to a fairly demanding exercise routine and taking care of household chores helped my body and mind cope with the rigors of treatment.
    Chemo threw my emotions into turmoil one week every three, and staying active kept me myself and helped me climb out of that trough again and again.
    Enjoy Energy Therapy
    Throughout my treatment, I benefited regularly from the talent, generosity and skill of three energy workers. I’m sure the resulting insight, healing and optimism played a major role in minimizing my treatment side-effects, improving my outlook and speeding my well-being.
    I am so grateful.
    Ask for and accept help
    I’ve never been comfortable doing either, but asking for and accepting help not only solved the many logistical problems posed by hectic medical schedules and diminished physical abilities, it deepened friendships, introduced our young family to the beauty of community, filled me with healing gratitude, nurtured my always-battered self-esteem and left me longing to pay-it-forward.
    Capture and share our story
    We broadcast my diagnosis as soon as it hit us. Right from — and especially at — the very beginning, we audio-recorded and snapped photos of our journey: sharing the news with Luba, attending appointments, celebrating milestones and living life in between.
    I believe capturing our journey gives me a sense of moving forward, of anticipating the victorious sense of looking back, and at the very least preserves precious memories for Luba.Sharing our journey, specifically and authentically, allows me to help those who may, unfortunately, follow. And distilling overwhelming situations to web-sized chunks helps me get to and focus on their vital core.
    Juice veggies
    As gag-inducing as these morning concoctions are, the ritual of selecting, chopping, juicing and somehow ingesting a whack of fresh vegetables every morning makes me feel like a healthiness hero.
    My daily juice includes beet, carrot, celery, ginger, swiss chard, lemon and, if I have it, bok choy, broccoli or cauliflower. Powerful veggies but possibly more powerful superstition.Daily juicing of fresh cut wheat grass is a salubrious luxury that I only wish I could afford to keep up forever.
    Embrace temporary baldness
    Our head-shaving party (video) helped me take control of my impending hair loss and enter temporary baldness with a resounding sense of support, victory and even joy.Choosing funky, friend-infused hand-made hats over wigs and baring it all when temperatures permitted, gave me the comfort, freedom, acceptance and playfulness that I don’t think hiding under a wig could.
    Supplement Vitamin D3, Curcumin, Vitamin C, Resveratrol and Green Tea Extract — and drink lots of Matcha
    I’ve tried a tonne of supplements during this journey, but after reading numerous books and articles (and not retaining the details of any) this is the handful I’m left feeling starve cancer best.This feeling is far from scientific. I’m sharing it, anyway.
    Reboot me
    I’m so grateful that I have taken this time to examine my life, my thinking, my habits, relationships, choices and outlook — trying to toss out what wasn’t working and deliberately striving for new patterns.
    My daily practices of gratitude and forgiveness have been far from perfect, but I feel lighter than my old self, and I feel much better about myself and my world.
    Celebrate every victory and milestone
    Ever since that lump turned up, we’ve been pulling our way through time by anticipating the celebration of milestones and victories, big and small.
    When there is something to look forward to, life is good. I’m so grateful that, as a family, we look for and find these things.

    The Bad: I’m glad I chose not to…

    Regularly consume sugar, white flour and other simple carbs
    Research shows, high GI foods, such as sugar, white flour, potatoes and white rice, trigger hormones such as insulin and IGF growth factor which, in turn, lead to inflammation and cancer growth.
    Since sugar, unlike dairy, offers close to no nutrition, I ended up deciding to mostly do sugar socially. Way easier than giving up coffee (which also raises insulin levels). I’m glad I did.
    Work during chemo, radiation and hormone therapy ramp-up
    Yes, I probably could have worked during a good part of my treatment. And, yes, a lot of people do it.
    I’m glad I decided not to. For me, the personal benefits of focusing completely on healing far out-weighed the financial benefits of working. I’m thankful for Mark’s job and that we all made adjustments to make it work.
    Hide my situation from our daughters — or myself
    None of us know what’s ahead of us.
    And we always hope for the best.But we’ve been honest with ourselves and our girls since the very beginning of this journey. And I’m glad of that.
    Venture into public places during chemo
    It was inconvenient, isolating and not absolutely essential, but avoiding public places for 18 weeks was a tiny price to pay to avoid the colds, flus or H1N1 viruses that may have stretched out my treatment — or worse.
    My chemo-cocooning gave me time to exercise, reflect, create and, most important, heal. And it protected me from the world I had yet to find my new spot in.
    Choose the attitude of fighter or invalid
    I didn’t choose cancer. But I do get to choose my attitude.
    There are lots of options.I’ve been happy with mine.

    The Ugly: I wish I hadn’t…

    Fought so hard for bilateral mastectomy
    I left my first post-diagnosis appointment absolutely adamant to remove both breasts. I remained so for three full weeks.
    After several late night phone calls, and just days before my long-awaited surgery, my fabulous surgeon made me an offer I couldn’t refuse and I reluctantly agreed to a lumpectomy.Turned out cancer had reached all 3 sentinal lymph nodes and recurrence could be anywhere. Removing my breasts wouldn’t have helped.
    I am so grateful for Dr. Lorimor’s perseverence and care.
    Wasted energy on impossible relationships
    My diagnosis and publicly shared journey gave me opportunities to reconnect with long lost friends and relatives, near and far. Those renewed relationships have enriched our lives.
    My diagnosis also gave me an excuse to work on some very broken family relationships. But after wasting precious energy and effort, they’re right back where they started — or worse. I should have put that energy into worthwhile relationships and healing.
    Bothered with daily Flor-Essence Herbal Tea
    During much of my treatment, I bought this pricey powder, followed the 24hour brewing and straining procedures then woke up earlier than I otherwise would have each morning so I could prepare it, drink it and wait 30 minutes before I could eat or drink anything else.
    I have no idea whether this or any of my practices did me any good, but this one was inconvenient and costly and I eventually gave it up.
    Neglected my protein intake
    Chemo eats away at muscle mass but I had hoped that by jogging, walking and doing strengthening exercises throughout my treatment, I would keep my muscles strong.
    Turns out, my plan should have included more protein.
    I ended up with two sets of tennis elbow and a brutal case of plantar fasciitis, which worsened after chemo ended and has prevented me from jogging ever since. Live and learn.
    Deprived myself of coffee and dairy
    I did not sleep one wink the night I received my diagnosis. And I guess, at that time, I figured I’d never sleep again. So, I cut out coffee. Cold turkey.
    Four months later, I realized delicious coffee was a treat I deserved. No great loss, I know. But enjoying a delicious coffee treat makes me feel like me, so I wish I’d relented sooner.As for dairy, it has a pretty bad reputation in certain circles, but with chemo-induced menopause and bone-robbery, skipping dairy was one of my stupider choices.

    Sorry for this absurdly long post. I wanted it to be a one-stop shop for anyone who may need it.

Published Pride

Lucy and Bayla wrote and submitted an article to our very local paper, last month. We’re proud to announce, that article was published today.

Here it is:

On October 6th, 2009, our mother, Andrea Sue Ross, was diagnosed with breast cancer. Now, less than eleven months later, we have already raised $3,500 almost $5,500 for ‘Run For the Cure’ of which our mom is a proud and worthy participant.

Through 2 surgeries, 1 MRI, ultra sounds, radioactive injections, mammograms, biopsies, a port-a-cath installation, 6 chemo treatments and 30 days of radiation our mom has hardly complained at all. Now, well into hormone therapy, our mom is only four years away from being “officially” a cancer survivor. Though in our opinion someone who has made it this far IS a survivor because you have to be really strong to have the confidence, courage, compassion and over all the perseverance that it takes to kick cancer’s butt. Our mom is strong. Our mom is confident, courageous and compassionate. Our Mom perseveres.

Our mom kicked cancer’s butt. So can you. You can help weather it’s by donating money to help find a cure, supporting a friend with cancer, or, if you to are, or will be, a cancer survivor then telling your story and inspiring others. YOU can make a difference.

Our mom is running for the cure. You can to.

Find more about our journey at WeCanRebuildHer.com

$5148 and counting

Two days ago, Paul and Sheri topped up Andrea’s Run for the Cure fundraising efforts, pushing her to $4000 — her goal at the time. That’s when we discovered Andrea was the third highest fundraiser in Ottawa.

We announced the milestone on this blog, Twitter and Facebook, asking for help to put Andrea in the pole position for fundraising in Ottawa.

At this moment, Andrea is second overall in the city with sponsorship of $5,148!!! That’s incredible. And yet, there’s still opportunity to be part of fundraising history by making Andrea the number one fundraiser for the first time in her life.

If your name isn’t on this list, sponsor Andrea and help make history. You have 29 days left.

Huge, huge thank yous to:

Glen McGregor
Carla Howatt
Anne Wiltshire
Jan Annino
Zetta Elliot
Mitch Joel
Sue Murphy
Carolyn Dittburner
Linda Corsini
Corinne Demas
Kaveh Adel
Heather Jopling
Lee Edward Fodi
Snookie & Norman Lomow
Sheree Fitch
Pam Hunter
Anita Neubert
Bob Goyetche
Kevin Chouinard
Evelina Vezarov
Heather Duggan
Mare Swallow
Todd and Christie Bastianon
Ana-Maria Popescu
Lori-Ann, Curtis & Olivia
Laura Bergen
Paul & Sheri Goulet
Kelly Clavette
Todd Tyrtle
Heidi Estrin
Dave Fleet
Eden Spodek
Esmé Codell
Anthony Marco
Angela Misri
Troy Wilson
The Waters Family
Alvina Ling
Katie Davis
Hugh McGuire
Mark Tafoya
Miranda McCurlie
Isabelle Michaud
Liz Murray
Jim Puckalo
Dwayne Melançon
Tamir Israel
Jennifer Johnston
Shari Greenspan
Phenix Dental Clinic Team
The Sinanan Family
Carol Grannick
Coreen Corcoran
Rich Cantrell
Patricia Kahn
Sriram Venkatarman
Stacey MacNevin
Ebony Haywood
Joan Buzick
Tanglewood Books
Mary Antolovich
Jay Schmidt
Daniele Rossi
The Bonsall/Small Family
Joanne Lennon
Greg & Andree O’Donnell
Betti Stiff
Cher & Mo Willems
The Giassa/Whammond Family
Whitney and John Hoffman
Barbara Reid-Crysler
Geoffrey Butler
Bert and Rhoda Blevis
Armeda Vanderwoude
Wilf and Barb Clavette
Clare Rogers
Denise Doyen
Garry and Kathi Tysick
Stephanie Calmenson and Mark Goldman
Carol Heyer
Diane Greenseid
Cathy Arneson
Nancy Pevey
Lane Smith and Molly Leach
William Flanagan
Orit Fruchtman
Diane DeGroat
Sally Ito
Hugh Brewster
Paul Zelinsky
Tania Carriere & Gerry Gaetz
Marla Frazee
Bob Ledrew
Tanya Snook
Robert McCarty
Richard Christie
Chris Brogan
Tom Tentoglou
Mary Lee Hahn
The Gupta/Gustyn Family
Andrew Quayle