See this giraffe up in the Assembly Square Mall? Every time I come here; I try to get a picture. It’s the Legos. My kids grew up with me buying them Lego, and it reminds me of them. This is the path I walk.
They told me I had cancer. I started the whole treatment– and between that, I lost my house. I lost everything. The mental part of it was what was not going to let me get through. She helped me quite a bit, Dr. Irwin. She saved my life and helped me get through. The whole team here.
I’m in a nursing home now, and its tough there because I don’t want to see my friends go. They started disappearing, and I don’t have many of them left. I walk around inside the nursing home, and as long as I can do a mile an hour, I can do 10 miles a day. But the walking, it gets so much stress off your back. Without it, I would fade away. Walking helped me overcome smoking and depression– I’m energized. I got quite a few in the nursing home that join me now. One of them joins me up the stairs – anything I can do to help other people, and keep them from fading away.

Having the participants at our 2019 Bridging the Divide Symposium come together to create the artworks last year, and then seeing the pieces hung at the event—each bringing something special and different— brought a tear to my eye.
Seeing the decorated pillowcases each with motivational messages, reminded me of how many people with mental illness and cancer do not get to express themselves. Through this activity, I felt like we gave some of the participants a voice, as well as space to focus on what people with mental illness and cancer could do, instead of what they could not.
Mental Illness should never be a barrier to cancer care.

I passed this scene on my walk home one evening.
It was a striking reminder for me that health care cannot be limited within the hospital’s campus. Health outcomes are influenced by the social and physical environment in which we live, and our care needs to reflect that.
Everyone deserves the equal right to healthcare.

My best friend and I absolutely love going to concerts together. We're been to eight concerts in the ten years that we've been friends, and I can honestly say that those days have been some of the happiest in my life.
When I think of the Engage Pledge, I instantly think of my best friend. Her mother has suffered from a serious mental illness since before my friend was born, which has greatly affected her entire family. I fight to end the inequity in that exits in cancer care for people with serious mental illness because I would want my best friend's mom to have the absolute best care possible, without question. It's what she deserves.

With the radiation I am taking every day, I lost my taste buds. I can taste that drink better than the food. That’s what I like about it.
I can’t taste as much anymore. But I eat, because I know I need the food. I’m hoping to leave here in about a week, maybe two weeks. I am looking forward to having no radiation – I don’t like that at all – and to seeing my friends once I leave. I’m also looking forward to getting my taste back, and I hope it comes back. I’m told it is more than likely, but that there is a chance that it doesn’t. I didn’t realize I loved eating so much. I had a piece of toast this morning, and it tasted like carboard.
Waking up in the moment means the most to me. Just glad to have life and have another day to live; I appreciate everyday.

“I pledge to ensure mental illness is never a barrier to cancer care” When I was in the hospital, I advocated that my mental health was another component of my complex medical condition, not just an adjunct to be treated separately. They listened. Learning from this experience, as I have been given the gift of time, my voice has empowered me to take opportunities that I find along my path to serve others’ needs in whatever capacity I can. I simply speak up.
I've included a picture of a sunflower that I grew in my garden. I grow sunflowers in my garden every year. I titled this one "Photobombed by a Bee." This means that while mental illness may appear to be different, it is actually a part of the whole flower.

This is one of my first Relays for Life at Merrimack College. The theme was “under the sea,” and I thought I could dress as a purple jellyfish.
My passion in life, and the reason I am doing this, is to put smiles on people’s faces. They were smiling because of the costume that I made, and I’m pretty proud of it – I still have pieces around my room.
All cancers are lavender. And that’s also the color for survivors. There are also many different colors for the different cancers.
My sister-in-law started Relay for Life at Merrimack College in honor of her aunt. And because she knew I was a cancer survivor, she decided to bring me in to it, the very first one. And I’ve been going ever since. It means something special to me, because the people there know me, and I just feel comfortable around them.
I love just making people smile and brightening their days. That’s my passion.

These are my walking shoes. They’ve worked overtime in getting me to places I need to go, like my cancer treatments and mental health care appointments. I put them on and feel empowered, able to do what needs to get done. They enable my fitness walks each day, an important way for me to keep physically and emotionally strong and healthy. My shoes have helped me overcome the complexities and potential barriers to complex health care. They remind me that you can’t be afraid to receive treatment, and that YOU have to be the one to get yourself there.
Because they are athletic shoes, I am reminded of the TEAM of providers who looked after me and communicated regularly and in great detail with each other about my care – this is what teams do, and it has made a world of difference. Mental illness should never be a barrier to cancer care. My hope is that others will have similar shoes to keep themselves strong and break down the barriers, getting them to treatment with a collaborative team of providers in mental health and cancer care.

This journey has reminded me to stay present and enjoy life and the beauty around me. My pledge is to be transparent and vulnerable to accept help and not put on a mask and be "Wonder Woman" 24/7. I want to stay present and enjoy the beauty of life around me and look for those positive moments, even in times of challenge. This is my view and a photo I took the other day of the beauty of the spring tulips and Boston Skyline.

I am carrying on everyday with the help of pills and doctors. They helped me through my worst to my best. I am a living testimony that parents with mental health illness and cancer can live a happy and productive life, as much as people without these problems.

Here is a woman, clearly with much weighing on her mind, two children clinging to her as if for dear life. I have always found this image very moving. It speaks of isolation, hopelessness, heavy burdens, and poverty. How many of us have experienced these conditions when faced with a diagnosis of cancer or an experience of depression? Yet she sits with her children, accepting their need for closeness and comfort. Her own worries are secondary to their needs. Such is the life of the caregiver, knowing another human being is depending on her presence and warmth. We must hold her in our thoughts and work toward lessening her burden. How can we support caregivers so that #mental illness is never a barrier to cancer care?

I love to see flowers bloom in the springtime, especially in unexpected places. I’m excited about growing new and unexpected connections with people committed to improving the lives of those with mental illness.

My son sent me this photo today of turkeys coming together but keeping their #SocialDistancing. Reminded me that things will get better and the group will continue the #bridgingthedivide20 work to @EndtheInequity

Through the darkness we have entered a light shines... Perspective.

I was working at my weekend job, an inpatient psych unit. I had been helping a client apply for unemployment benefits. The last day of my shift, he gave me this picture and said: "I know it's hard for you to be here with all that's going on, but I appreciate you. Thank you for helping me and being here even if you're scared. I'm scared too." Compassion satisfaction

My friend taught me to make fresh flowers into long lasting bouquets.At this time of isolation, the small bouquet reminds me that, symptoms, medications, treatments doesn't mean we are giving up hope, giving up love, or giving up being a good friend, a kind person that one day may help other people in same situation. Everybody, rock on!

Whenever I feel discouraged, I drive down to my mom's house on the South Coast and spend time there with my mom. It is so peaceful to be there, the company the quiet, and being closer to nature. I am always reminded that caring for yourself makes you a better caregiver to others.

Mental Illness is not a disgrace or a failing. It's part of our shared humanity

I pledge to ensure that mental illness is never a barrier to cancer care. I consider myself very lucky. I was able to, with a help of a lot of people including my psychiatrist and prescribers, retire with great insurance, and that enables me to have the greatest care that I could ask for. Not only that, but I am very very lucky. And everyone should be lucky to have family and friends that really care about you. I know that I am not alone. And I thank God for that. This is my sister, Christine, working from home. She takes good care of me.