Nancy asked me to post this letter that she sent last week.

Also, she has asked me to encourage people to use this blog rather than her e-mail account. To leave a comment, all you need to do is click where you see "comments" in green after a post entry, then type in the "post a comment" box and click "post comment." No need to sign in, log in, create an account, or anything complicated.

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Dear All,

Many apologies for telling you in this email message about my unfortunate news. There's no good way of saying this, so I'll just say it. I have a growth, probably benign, pressuring my brain stem. It grew larger without my knowing because the most likely first symptom would have been a ringing in my right ear. You may know, I am deaf in that ear.

Barry and I have been quietly absorbing, researching and crafting strategies about this "elephant in the room" since September 21st.

Also unfortunately for me, there is no choice but surgery. Barry, my dear friend, Dr. Lisa Rosenberg and I explored medically (and hoped exuberantly) that this tumor could be removed with the easy-by-comparison gamma knife. No luck; my growth is too large. Second opinions, via overnight mail, confirmed surgery.

For about a year, I have been feeling "head rushes" every time I get up out of a chair or bend down in the garden, etc. Since about September, my balance has been "off" when I walk. (While Gayle Byck and I decided not to ask people for money this year for our annual City of Hope Walk, my later decision to refrain from walking, myself, for the first time in 6 years, was probably prudent. Sorry for lying to the Great Strides for Girlfriends team...)

I have an amazing team of doctors at Northwestern ("NMH"). I am very fortunate to be under the care of Dr. Hunt Batjer, who previously saved my life in 1995 by clipping and “shunting” an unrelated, nearby aneurysm. With him is Dr. Andrew Fishman, an otologist/neurotologist. Dr. Fishman reminds me of Steve Hart, a truly comforting presence.

My surgery is scheduled for Tuesday, November 17^th. (If you want to help me, say a prayer on the 17th for everything to run smoothly.)

(This may be a good time to take a bathroom break from this long email ...)

Here's what I'd appreciate: This being my fifth (5th) major surgery in 14 years (brain aneurysm/clipping surgeries, 10/95; breast cancer, 3/04; pelvic growth removed, 12/04), many of you have told me that I'm "made of iron." While the prospect of this fifth surgery has worn away at some of Barry's and my "iron," you can help by doing us some favors:

1. In your mind, try to "pretend" that I am going to a regular doctor’s appointment on 11/17. (Obviously, there would be no need to tell my friends, family and business colleagues about that.) Indulge me; this has been my modus operandi for the last 14 years -- I just do what needs to be done. I accept my situation; Barry and I do our homework; we advocate and mediate for me on those matters within our control; and we get through it with appreciation.

If I had my choice, I would just do this surgery quietly and get it done--get it behind us. This operation is bigger than "just me," so I don't have that option. My modus operandi doesn't work this time.

2. No puppy dog eyes, no weepy emails. Be tough. I am. This is the most important thing you can do for me.

3. Don't feel sorry for me or view me as medically-fragile. I'd prefer if you thought of me, instead, as a medical triathlete and a medical miracle. (You may be interested to know that my medical teams always think my situations are fascinating; long ago, Barry and I were ready to stop being so fascinating.)

4. No need to send food, but thank you, in advance, for even thinking about it. I want the next 2 months to be as normal as possible for my children. Our daughters, Dana, 16, Sami, 12, and Tracy, 9, were just told this past weekend. Try not to give them puppy dog eyes, too.

5. Go to my new blog, NofGlazer.blogspot.com, if you want, artfully established by Gayle Byck, Pam and Scott Shimamoto and Doug Wilson. There, you can see updates about me, graciously provided by Gayle. You can also leave me a note, though not private. If you have trouble leaving a message, there will be instructions on the blog shortly about how to login. You should have no problem, whatsoever, reading Gayle’s postings. If you send a note to my personal email, I will probably not have time to read/respond. (I'm sure you'll understand that my time with the kids is paramount right now.)

I feel that my surgeries are most difficult for those sitting/pacing in the waiting room. As you may know, Barry is the most amazing human being. He’s adding “M.D.” to his business cards as he thoroughly understands each procedure I've had, every vessel and nerve affected. He does the homework on the doctors and the medicine. He also suffers the ripple effects of each surgery--financially, professionally and emotionally.

My family, too, is astounding. My mom is trying like heck to honor my wishes and hang tough for me, again; my dad and Barb similarly have also been there through every medical nightmare of mine, supporting me all the way. My in-laws and siblings are and have been unreal as well.

There are too many of you to mention who have done so much over the years. I am beyond appreciative. Floored. Blessed.

Many apologies for lying to you all over the past 6 weeks when you kindly asked how we all were doing. (Sorry, too, Larry, for missing the marketing seminar on 9/24 and lying to you; I had a date with an angiogram.)

Thank you for reading this long email. Thanks, too, for trying to honor my wishes. Whether you're family, a colleague or pal, thank you for being my friend.

Nancy

P.S, Kindly no visitors at the hospital; I'll be there for a week or so. I need that time to recuperate. I'd love to see you after I'm home, if it works.