PFINGSTEN: Cancer survivor calls on humor, hope to encourage others

In 70 pages, Ali Gilmore covers just about everything a cancer patient might need or want to know following the diagnosis, but it's the way she talks about the disease as a cheap, ridiculous enemy that really clicks with her ailing readers: "I think we should be less afraid of cancer."

Her self-published book, "The C Card and Me," is the result of two years of cancer treatments in North County, including Tri-City Medical Center and several oncology clinics scattered along the coast.

In July 2010, the doctors found Gilmore's colon cancer. After surgery to remove those first cells, they probed her lymph nodes, looking for signs that the cancer had spread.

They found them. A spot on her lung needed chemotherapy ---- she would eventually have three rounds ---- and in one especially advanced procedure, flecks of gold were implanted in her chest as markers for a "cyberknife," a powerful laser that targets cancer cells in hard-to-reach places with high-intensity radiation.

"Literally, I have gold flecks in my lung. Three little gold flecks," Gilmore said. "It's this gigantic beam that they use, and it's completely invisible ---- you can't see the radiation going through. It didn't even burn my skin. It's just amazing."

That was in early 2011; by this summer, the word "remission" was on her doctors' lips.

But her story with cancer was far from over.

Toward the end of her treatment, a friend phoned to say her mother had been diagnosed with a dangerous, late-stage condition. Gilmore's actual diagnosis was Stage IV colon cancer, and her friend asked for advice.

"I said, 'I could just tell you what I learned,' so I started writing all these things and sent them to her by email," Gilmore said. "She called me and said, 'Mom and I were laughing, then we were crying. You need to write more.' At that point, it was about 40 pages of information. They said, 'You need to make this into a book. This is what people need to hear when they're diagnosed with cancer.'"

Gilmore's career had been in information technology, not publishing or writing, but she certainly has the humor and thick skin necessary to write and market a book.

"Once it got out there, I started getting these random emails and Facebook messages from people," she said. "I realized this is more than just me getting something off my chest ---- this is actually useful to people. The things I keep hearing are, 'I feel less alone,' and 'I'm less afraid of cancer.'

"Mostly, it's real, common-sense information about what you need to know to deal with cancer," she added.

At this point, Gilmore is emerging from the fog of chemotherapy and the physical oppression of a protracted battle with cancer ---- in her words, "I'm still working on putting myself back together."

But she still laughs a lot. She has to.

"I really believe laughter is important, and that you should be able to laugh at cancer," she said. "Laughter causes endorphins, and endorphins help heal."


