This journal was originally for Peggy's sister who had been diagnosed with brain cancer. During stress and illness there may be gaps left in one's memory. This journal was to help fill those gaps. You will find both sadness and humor. Everyone handles situations differently. No one is right. No one is wrong. Life is ever changing. One adjusts. Life continues. This journal was done simply and out of love. Profits from this book will go to cancer rearch to help conquer this demon. Whether you have been diagnosed with cancer, know someone who has cancer, are family, a friend, or a survivor, "A Journal for Karen", will affect you.
Peggy L. Chapin lives in Washington, Kansas. She is married to Mark Chapin and they have three grown children - Rahe, Nate, and Addie. They have one grand-daughter named Isabella. She is a Certified Laboratory Technician, and has worked for the local hospital for 30 plus years. She has a Bachelor of Science Degree in Management and Ethics. Interests are golfing, quilting, music, reading, shopping, and various church and community activities. Peggy's sister, Karen, was diagnosied with brain cancer in August 2006. As a way to help Karen remember what happened during the months of treatment, a journal was written from a sister's perspective. It was to be given to Karen upon completion of her treatment - when she had recovered and beat the disease we know as cancer. Karen never got to read the journal. She lost her battle with cancer on January 25, 2007. Although never having published a book before, Peggy felt this was a perfect time to start.
August 6, 2006
Karen—I’m not sure why I am writing this journal. It may be more for me than you. I remember telling you I had a project for us to do. I asked you to call me whenever you had free time and we’d have coffee, go for a Coke, and start our project. Purses—felted. We would work on them only when we were together. You had purchased a couple of sergers and given me one of them earlier in the year. You told me it was up to me to find a project for us to do together. I’ve used the serger and looked for a “project” to use it for but decided since you love to knit, we’d do the purses instead. In addition, it would be a good excuse to get together. Seems we’ve not done that as much as we should lately since work, family, etc., always seemed to have taken precedence. (A typical response 99 percent of the world seems to also have in common with us.) Time is precious, and we tend to forget that.
I played at our church service on July 23, 2006. Instead of speaking to me afterwards as you always do, you just looked at me for quite some time. Then, you turned around and walked off—very unusual. I let it slide. The week went by. On July 28, 2006, the folks called to tell us Ken had taken you to see the doctor. They thought you might be on the verge of a breakdown—stress-related. I felt so guilty I hadn’t noticed more or helped somehow in preventing it. How could I, your sister, not know that you needed me to be more aware of your situation?