Overview of THE JOURNEY, The Whole Story

THE JOURNEY, The Whole Story is an autobiographical book that takes you step by step through a year of a clinical trial. The clinical trial consisted of extensive pre-testing, chemotherapy to shrink the tumor (which started out as 9 cm x 10 cm), then surgery, radiation and finally more chemotherapy. In addition to the cancer diagnosis and treatment during this year, Laurie’s journey includes having her only child diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome (also referred to as high functioning autism), her brother served our country in Kuwait and Iraq with the Army Reserves, her father had open heart surgery that kept him in the ICU much longer than anticipated, and she and her husband were building a house for the first six months of her treatment.

This book, as the title states, will reveal the whole story - humor, pain, fear, joy, faith, anger and survival. Besides getting a play by play of what happens in the life of one breast cancer patient, the unique aspect of the book will be the perspective of those who joined Laurie in the journey. One person’s perspective is just that – only one perspective. The book allows Laurie’s husband, family members and closest friends to interject what they felt at critical, serious moments and humorous moments. These, added to the theatrical simplistic writing style, will allow you to laugh and cry while reading the same page. The book dives into the journey from a spiritual perspective, allowing Laurie’s faith to emerge stronger and more passionate as the whole journey unfolds.

Laurie has written the story but has invited an editor to review each line to make the paragraphs flow and the interest level stay heightened. The book is currently being presented to publishers for consideration. We anticipate that the launch date of the book will coincide with the opening of the musical in New York.

Sneak peek - below is a page from the book

Laurie's Journey Journal

Mon, 10/14

Back at University Hospital for an EKG, a MUGA scan, and an MRI. These tests are all over the hospital. Have I mentioned that this hospital is about the size of the pentagon? Well, maybe not, but it is huge, especially when you are walking from test to test across the vast expanse. It feels like a maze and reminds me of mousetrap, a game I had as a child. I remember playing that game and thinking “I have to get through all these things? And this game is fun because...?”

Today all the tests were different. I should expect that by now. Nothing about this process so far has been routine. The MRI again wins the prize for having the most intense prayer time. That noise is deafening. It occurred to me that some entrepreneur out there could invent a better earplug for MRI patients. Come to think of it, I’ve been to concerts with Don that I wish I had never heard any sound from the band—loud, drum-driven guitar-wailing something. I can’t really call them songs. Really good earplugs are a must. I’m quite certain someone out there somewhere has already invented them. I just need to find someone and get them in touch with the manufacturer of MRI machines.

Lord, I am continually amazed at how you made me – please help the doctors and technicians with everything they need to find what makes my body unique so my treatment is the best treatment to get rid of the cancer and anything else harmful – forever.

The best part of that day was when Sherry and I had to go past that huge Ireland Cancer Center sign again. I still have to wonder why they felt the need to make that sign so big! Like who doesn’t know they have cancer when they get here? And what if you don’t have cancer and it’s just for some other freaky thing in your body? It seems like it would induce unnecessary stress. Most likely Mr. Ireland gave a huge check. I am thankful that he did.

There was this long hallway and I told Sherry that I felt like a lab rat. Leave it to Sherry to launch into her unique version of the song “Cool Jerk” with the words “lab rat.” I burst into laughter and I harmonized with her “Lab rat” da de da de. We be-bopped down the hall like Stevie Wonder’s back up singers. That was the beginning of Sherry’s new assignment. In addition to taking thorough notes of this experience she now had to find a song to parody for each unique experience. When I’m entertained, things go by much faster!

On the way out I thought of “every breath you take, every move you make…I’ll be watching you” by Sting. It was the perfect song to capture the MRI experience. I was lying there, completely still, with a technician staring at me through a little glass window watching… every breath I took!

Sherry Thoughts:

I remember thinking leave it to Laurie to turn cancer into a musical. The only other person I could imagine having a sense of humor through something this scary was Deb. Odd triumvirate the Neopolitans (Redhead Deb, Brunette Laurie and Blonde Me) make, isn't it?

Altering songs by ad libbing with wild lyrics is something I've picked up by proxy from my good friend Colin. He's constantly doing it, and when you spend enough time around him you begin to see the world through his prism (scary, scary view). It was actually quite fun to begin to intentionally think of weird song lyrics while we'd walk the halls, read the signs, just talk. And all this time God continues to form in Laurie's heart and brain the desire to write a musical. It all just seemed to fit, send confirmation that this was the direction - a journey within a journey.

Planning out in her head the musical, also gave Laurie something positive to focus on. Ditto for her new house. These were two things she COULD control, amidst a situation full of tests and procedures she was powerless to alter or stop. These two entities, her musical and planning for her new house, were her spiritual therapy - as much a part of her recovery through the year-long ordeal as anything else was. It pointed her to the future, and in their own way, assured her that there was going to BE a future to plan for.