Not a spa.

I found out quickly the Hematology Suite was not a spa.

They called my number. The lab tech had me sit down.

She tied my arm, none too gently, and began taking vial after vial out of my arm. No greeting. No joke. Fifteen vials later, she said, “You’re done.”

At that point I was ready to pass out. I had barely eaten anything for two weeks, so I was at my weakest point since the whole process began. I asked for some juice so that I wouldn’t faint. From her reaction, you’d think I was asking for a gourmet meal that was going to take hours to prepare.

I was definitely edgy.

Read more in my memoir "I am Living to Tell" available here.

Shoes Untied.

I was so damn tired by noon that I couldn’t even tie my shoes.

I fought it to the last thought.

I kept telling myself, Here I eat as pure as possible, exercise every day, love my life, love what I do,
and have finally achieved a balanced lifestyle. There can’t be anything wrong with me.

There’s a definite difference between lying to yourself and actually listening to what your body is telling you.

Read more in my memoir "I am Living to Tell" available here.

"You have - 90% - missed messages".... Beeeeep.

A lot of messages were delivered to me, but I missed about 90 percent of them.

I’m not just talking about the warning signs of cancer here.

Not listening to myself was epidemic in my life, and it finally took “incurable” cancer to happen before I actually understood. But when I did stop and listen, I heard. A message was being delivered to me loud and clear this time. The message was “Stop what you’re doing; it’s time to make changes.”

Read more in my memoir "I am Living to Tell" available here.

Listening is an art.

Listening is an art.

I didn’t understand what that meant—until now.

I would partially listen or think I was listening. But I was hearing only what I wanted to. Or as the old saying goes, “In one ear and out the other.” I was excellent at the latter.

So I wasn’t listening to my body, though it was giving me some pretty loud indications something was incredibly wrong.

Read more in my memoir "I am Living to Tell" available here.

Healing is a journey.

Healing is a journey. If it weren’t for a couple of fortuitous events, I don’t know if this journey would have had such a happy ending. I have a wonderful doctor that adopted a “watchful waiting” stance with the disease raging throughout my body. I have a mother who believes in acupuncture and a big dose of humor."

Begin your healing journey by purchasing Laurie Beck's long awaited memoir "I am Living to Tell" by clicking here.

Be inspired by the "one percenter."

Laurie Beck's long awaited personal story of faith, forgiveness, listening, and loving.  And most of all, hope and healing.

"When I got the first test back that showed normal blood counts and no cancer markers, I let out a whoop that could shatter glass. I went from having a death sentence to having the most beautiful, amazing gift God, fate, the universe—call it what you will—can ever give: a second chance at life. I’m a living affirmation...

My doctors tell me that I’m a “one percenter,” meaning that I am among the 1 percent of people with this form of cancer who go into spontaneous remission without some form of medicine (chemo). I’m what they call an anomaly.

Purchase my memoir "I am Living to Tell" available here.

Wine and Spleen

I do believe that my love for wine also helped save my life, or at least extend it.

I had decided to open a bottle of wine—something I do on a regular basis. Well, the cork wasn’t coming out as easily as usual, so I decided to prop it against my belly and pull.

When I did this, I felt an odd soreness in my abs...

Read more in my memoir "I am Living to Tell" available here.

Last day for Laurie's Pre-order deal!

Tomorrow is the LAST day for our pre-order special.

Order Laurie's Memoir "I am Living to Tell" for only $11.95.  This is a must read, almost impossible to put down and one you'll feel incredibly inspired by.  This book will leave you wanting more.  Perhaps a trilogy is in order! :)

Simply click on the "Purchase Here" red tab on our website.

Stop and Listen

We are told over and over that we should make this day the best day of our Lives.

I am not a "drama queen" but I was stunned into a mental paralysis.

How do you make the day you found out that you were going to die be the "best day" of your life?

Is that remotely possible? How does life ever prepare you to think about dying?

Read more in my memoir "I am Living to Tell" available here.

A Brief Synopsis...

Five years ago, I was diagnosed with a rare form of incurable non-Hodgkin's lymphoma as well as leukemia. Three years ago, my doctors told me that they could not find any trace of cancer in my body. The cancer I had is considered "indolent" which means that it is sleeping and could awaken at any time. So while I cannot say that I healed myself of cancer, I can say that I was given my life back in May of 2009, and I am Living to Tell, Surviving incurable cancer without kiling my mother, my granny or my ex is the story of my journey of healing.  Click here to read more...

A Snippet from the Introduction

I guess you never really know how you're going to feel when you get news like mine. I was only forty-two when I started feeling tired. I felt a bone weary so-knocked-out tired I couldn't do anything. That wasn't right. I keep myself in great physical condition.

When I finally got the courage to go to an internist, I got the news. It was worse than I could ever imagine.

I was stunned into a mental paralysis.

I am not a "drama queen."  We've been told over and over that we should make " this day" the "best day" of our lives? How do you make the day you found out that your going to die be the "best day" of your life? Is that even remotely possible? How does life ever prepare you to think about dying?

I have spent a lifetime taking care of myself. I eat well, exercise, and own a pilates studio to help others stay in shape. I also had no idea how badly " poisoned " my body was and even worse, how much emotional baggage I was carrying around with me all the time.