Queen Sassypants | Schmidtcomm's Blog

A Warrior’s Cancer Anniversary

Every spring it hits me—my cancer anniversary. Eighteen years ago I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer and I remember my doctor telling me “if you’re going to get cancer, this is the one you want.” Regardless, cancer changed everything.

Then, each day dawned with the thought “I have cancer.” Now, it recedes to the back of my brain, only occasionally rising to the surface to remind me. At the time, I wanted to quit work because I needed all the fight in me. I felt like crap mentally and physically and mused that I never felt so crummy until the doctors started “curing” me.

I watched a friend die from the disease and thought it could have been me. Another friend was diagnosed just after me and I sobbed “not her, too.” Then my petite sister was diagnosed and I watched her small body go through the ravages of surgery, treatment, and reconstruction.

I took charge and was one of the few women at that time who claimed control over her own treatment. With the help of my husband, I planned medical treatment around life—not the other way around. The only thing that made me feel like myself was singing—as I was drugged up and going into surgery, my husband told the nurses was trying to sing “How Can I Keep From Singing.” That surgery was scheduled far enough before a concert so I could sing. Treatments took Sunday night rehearsals into consideration. I asked how radiation and drugs would affect my hormones and my voice (something the doctors never considered).

I am where I am today because I’m a fighter, but cancer made me a Warrior. I never wanted to be defined as Mary, Cancer Survivor, but I also didn’t want to ignore the wake up call of cancer. It’s a daily balance of wearing a pink badge versus going about the business of living.

Cancer sucks. So for all of you in the fight, grab your shield and sword and face it head on. I hope you concentrate on what is before you for only today—yesterday catalogs regrets and tomorrow is unwritten.

MARCH MADNESS: I take Renee Fleming in the final four

I can’t help thinking: what would happen if we treated the arts like March Madness? Imagine picking brackets that have symphony orchestras facing off against each other. Imagine televising opera casts in a sing-off to determine who performs with the most heart, talent and skill? Would Vegas run the odds on ballet dancers who can jump higher or twirl faster? In your fantasy league, would you draft a team with Cecelia Bartoli, Renee Fleming and Maria Callas?

This year, ad spending on the Final Four will generate $1.15 billion (BILLION) which is higher than NFL Football or NBA Basketball (yawn). This year, nationally televised arts will generate this much in advertising revenue: (crickets).

I’m not dissing organized sports or the Final Four. I’m a Badger alumnus and rooted for Wisconsin to win. But I’m a singer, I love the classical arts and happen to think the lessons learned in a practice room or in a band concert are just as important as those learned on a field.

As a culture, we worship the warrior in sweat socks. If we paid even half the homage to the artist mastering Mozart, what would be the outcome?

In this weekend’s contest, we will see the product of organized and well-funded high school sports playing at a very high level with organized and well-funded college athletics. I think of my friends who teach high school music and how their booster clubs scratch to find money to repair uniforms, repair old instruments and send kids to state ensemble competitions. Take that up a notch and think of the local arts groups that operate on budgets that wouldn’t keep sports teams in shoe laces.

When you don your red and white this weekend, please take 10 minutes and think about what the world would be like if we devoted this much time and money to the arts. A sustainable world needs both sporting competition and artistic expression, but we are far from parity when funding the arts.

What does that “www” thing mean?

Hi, my name is Mary and I’m addicted to social media. The first step toward recovery is to admit your problem and I should have seen this coming about 100 posts ago. At least once a week someone tells me social media is a pointless waste of time. Some clients can’t imagine why anyone would spend time on a screen. Spousal Unit moaned in disgust when he found out I was taking pictures of myself and posting them to Facebook and Twitter to stave off boredom in the deer stand during a hunting season. Now, my hunting posts on Facebook are eagerly anticipated by clients and friends alike. Here’s what I have to say to them.

My 75-year old father has a Facebook page. That either makes him a hip adaptor or it makes Facebook terminally un-cool, but you can’t ignore it.

I’m showing my age, but as a TV reporter in the 80s, we laughed at the idea of 24-hour news on a cable network. What would they cover? In the early days of the internet, employers and clients told me no one would ever get product information on a screen much less write and send letters over a computer.

The idea behind social media is to connect, participate, discuss. No restrictions and opinions interpreted as news. Is it perfect? Nothing is perfect and I’ve found that people who make questionable decisions in other parts of their lives will do the same thing on social media. But like they say, you can pick your friends.