BOOK REVIEW: MY NOISY CANCER COMEBACK: RUNNING AT THE MOUTH WHILE RUNNING FOR MY LIFE—by Fitz Koehler

 

Book titles are important, as writers know. My writer’s brain was curious about the story behind the “noisy” in Fitz Koehler’s, My Noisy Cancer Comeback: Running at the Mouth While Running For My Life. Her cancer comeback was noisy because she dealt with her ordeal the same as she dealt with life. Fitz has a zest for life, passion for her race-announcing career, and enthusiasm for her tribe of racers. Race announcing? Is that a job? Indeed. When Fitz announces during a race event with her colleague, Rudy Novotny, their moniker is Team Noisy.

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Fitz Koehler’s memoir of breast cancer hell chronicles her heroic stomp through nauseating chemotherapy, surgery and potentially skin-burning radiation. Fitz tells her harrowing tale with levity. I was belly-laughing by page forty-three. My husband appeared from his mancave, “You sound like you’re having fun out here. What’s so funny?”

“It’s Fitz’s cancer memoir.” I proceeded to read aloud the cranky MRI lady excerpt that simultaneously had me in stitches while being flabbergasted that Fitz was so poorly treated during her initial MRI appointment.

The train wreck that cancer inflicts on its prey packs an emotional wallop of terror. Crying tears of sadness, pain, and frustration are inevitable. Sobbing is the human body’s release valve. The powerhouse Fitz, who was in fantastic health when diagnosed, was not immune from cancer’s onslaught and she wailed.

Patients diagnosed with life-threatening illnesses experience the grief stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Denial is an interesting coping mechanism. Fitz touches on how weird denial feels amid a cancer battle. One day she’s on stage entertaining and informing thousands of runners and spectators. The next day, she’s pumped full of poison, flirting with despair and trying to eat with deadened tastebuds that caused all food to taste like black dirt. The ambitious disparities she put herself through, in the name of sanity during an insane time, impressed the hell out of me.

Despite the emotional turmoil and energy drain, Fitz stuck to her plan. She launched into assault mode—bobbing, weaving, and blocking cancer’s tricky sweeps with her plucky attitude while maintaining her demanding schedule as wife, mother, and race announcer. She did not miss even one of her twenty-two race events across the country and credits those adrenaline-inducing events with boosting her resolve to move forward. Her approach was akin to Norman Cousins, who developed a laugh-therapy routine to heal his illness. Cousins, like Fitz, was also an incurable optimist.

However, Fitz’s optimistic demeanor also took many hits:

·                She had three mini-goals during treatment[i] and none were attained. For example, she ended up in the hospital for a transfusion of ‘grody bags of stranger blood.’

·                As most women can attest, it’s all about the hair. Fitz loved her long blond locks. Although she’d come to terms with her baldness, Fitz burst into tears when a guy said to her, “Hey buddy…Oh! You’re a ma’am! Sorry!” I chuckled at Fitz’s expense, having been addressed as “sir” throughout my entire life—hey dudes—I’m a girl![ii]

·                Fitz’s remarks regarding what not to say to cancer patients were violated when a few folks greeted her with phrases like, “My mom died of breast cancer last year.” (I wanted to go back in time and slap the crap out of those clueless morons for Fitz, having endured similar stupidities.)

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Fitz Koehler is the embodiment of how exercise, proper nutrition, gutsy attitude, and nurturing environments are crucial factors to surviving life-threatening bouts, such as breast cancer. She challenges her readers to prioritize their health and fitness. She stresses the immense value of facing trauma as a champion, rather than a victim.

 Had she not been in top shape before her ravaging cancer treatments, Fitz posits she’d have been homebound instead of crisscrossing the country doing the job she loves amidst the people she inspires and admires. Love was a main theme in her book. It was clear to me that her love and connection with people and life propelled her to success. Beating breast cancer may be her greatest personal victory—and we are grateful she’s noisily back.

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[i] Avoid hospitalization, keep eyelashes, and maintain muscles.

[ii] I burst into commiserative laughter; because I too, a card-carrying female, have been called sir. Last month, at the fishmonger where I am a loyal customer, the guy said, “Sir…oh, sorry, ma’am. What can I get you?” That was the second time in one day I was addressed as “sir.” I had styled my hair and was wearing my new push-up bra.