The Power of Marketing

     Yesterday I woke up with a terrible migraine.  Anyone who suffers from these knows the feeling of pain, sensitivity to light and sound, nausea, and tiredness.  After I got my kids on the bus, I fell asleep on the couch.  When I woke 2 hours later, I still didn’t feel like moving.  It’s like having a late night without any of the fun.  With the remote in reach, I turned on the television.  After the morning news, I rarely watch anything on the tube, so I began channel surfing.  When I landed on QVC, I took a moment to see what they were selling.  The item up for sale was a mattress.  Having just had a bad morning, it immediately caught my interest.

     In 4 easy payments (easy…. really..what does that mean?) adding up to less than $500.00; I could have a memory foam mattress endorsed by a certified chiropractor.  It looked soft and comfortable. It would solve all my sleep issues and never lose its shape.  For a fraction of the cost of a well-known national brand, it could be mine.  Oh did they lure me in.  I was so tempted.  Then I remembered that my current mattress is only 3 years old and was made by a nearby mattress company.

     Years ago I visited my grandmother and her sister, Aunt Mary, for a week.  Aunt Mary loved contests and had been the big winner on more than one occasion.  She wanted to know if I wanted some jewelry she bought from the Home Shopping Network.  It had “real” diamonds, about the size you find on a drill bit, but they were real.  She went on to tell me that the woman on the other end of the phone knew her when she called.  Being elderly, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the woman knew everyone.  She never spent a lot of money on these items so it was harmless.  What stood out was how these marketers are able to sell, and how good they are at attracting customers.  They know how to appeal to the senses and have a way of making you feel like you need their product.  I give them credit for salesmanship, a skill I never possessed.

     I was never able to sell anything.  Fundraisers for school, the YMCA, girl scouts, and other organizations never made much from my sales.  Candy bars, wrapping paper, cookies, and other items were products I couldn’t promote.  It is an art and a skill that few possess, and many give into.  I can see a sale coming a mile away.  I don’t like the hard sell, and am put off as soon as it starts.  Yesterday, in a moment of weakness, I almost bought a mattress.  Oh, but it was so comfortable, cool, soft, offers support………click went the remote.  I feel better today.  So does my wallet.

There Is No App for Shoveling

     Lost and need to find your way?  There is an app for that.   Need to find cheap gasoline?  There is an app for that.  Want to find out what time the movie starts and buy tickets?  There is an app for that.  Want to make dinner reservations?  There is an app for that.   Want to remove 3 feet of snow from your driveway, or shovel your walk?  WHAT?  No app?  What am I going to do?  How will I survive without being able to remedy this situation immediately?  In other words, what has happened to patience and understanding when circumstance is greater than expected?  This past week brought back the reality of not everything being instantly gratified, and not any one person being more important than the other.

     Years ago I lived in a condo complex.  We had a storm that dumped quite a bit of snow in one big wallop. The wind made huge drifts against the cars in my section.  As if that wasn’t enough, the plow packed it up against vehicles building a wall of snow and ice.  Although I had a shovel, I didn’t have the physical strength at the time to dig myself out.  When the storm ended, everyone ventured out of their units to begin the cleanup.  Someone asked to borrow my shovel so that he could clear out his and his wife’s car.  After he was finished, without my asking, he cleared away the snow around mine.  In return, I cleaned the snow off about a dozen cars.  People were smiling, happy, telling jokes, and enjoying the satisfaction of helping others.

     That experience has stayed with me and I have retold the story many times.  I was so grateful for people, in a situation of inconvenience, being there to help.  This week, I saw the same story played out many times on the news.  People in several communities worked together to dig out neighbors, the elderly, schools, and numerous cars. Imagine what could be accomplished if people found a way to help each other on regular basis.

     We live in a world of instantaneous results.  We have forgotten to wait our turn, help our neighbor, and just plain talk to people.  A kind word and a helping hand can go a long way in the emotional well-being of so many.  Something as basic as the use of a shovel can create a great feeling of accomplishment.  Having to wait for the guy who has been plowing for hours, make us appreciate him even more when he arrives on our street or at our home.  In one report, a young man in New Haven, CT, who had been shoveling a good part of the day commented, “It’s all about community.”  How true.  There is no app for that.

Footnote:  I don’t own a phone with apps so I may be wrong in my listings.  I’m sure someone will let me know differently if I am.  : )   Thanks.  Angela

 

We Don’t Need Lance for Inspiration

     I always wondered about Lance Armstrong.   I thought he must have been a medical marvel to win the Tour de France within 2 years of being considered cancer-free.    I didn’t understand how anyone who had endured surgeries, and heavy doses of chemotherapy, could come back so quickly after treatment.  Sure, he was a trained athlete and I do believe in mind over matter, but this seemed so incredible that I among others, wanted so badly to believe.   Why did I have these reservations?  I am a cancer survivor.

     In the summer of 1995, I heard those words.  “You have Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.”   There was a brief period when there was suspicion that I had Leukemia as well, but biopsies proved that wrong.   I felt sad for a week.  When I heard that I had an 80% chance of survival, my head changed gears.   My whole thought process was to move forward, do what I had to do, and stay positive.   Twelve rounds of chemo, and a month of radiation followed.  That was 18 years ago and with a few bumps since, I am still here.

     People who knew me then know most of the story.  I have been reluctant to tell people I have met since that I am a survivor.  Partly I don’t want it to define me; partly I don’t like the look most people give when they find out.  It is a mixture of pity and sadness.   I have now decided it is up to survivors to let others know that there are many who have battled various forms of cancer, and have lived to tell about it.

     On a follow-up appointment, my oncologist asked if I would allow a resident doctor sit in on the visit.  The reason was that the medical field was having trouble attracting  physicians into the field of oncology.  He stated that new doctors only see the most ill in hospitals.  They don’t see the ones who regain their health, build up their strength, grow back their hair, and go on to live happy and productive lives.  Of course I said yes.  Now I am telling the world.   There are many among the masses that provide inspiration and support.  We don’t need an athlete, entertainer, or politician to do it for us.  Our heroes are the doctors, nurses, and technicians who provide quality care, comfort, and a high degree of dedication to their patients.

     The saddest part of Lance’s story is that he was already a winner.  He could have come in dead last and still would have been an inspiration.  His story could have been promoted and his foundation would have flourished.  I don’t accept his rationalization that cancer made him do what he did.   Cancer doesn’t turn you into a liar, cheater, or someone who hurts people.   Cancer changes your life in a way that is unexplainable to others.   It builds an appreciation of the small things.  It teaches you not to sweat the small stuff.  It opens your eyes to the fact that time is ticking. There are so many others who were not as fortunate to have that second chance.   Life is short.  It is the obligation of all survivors to live life as best we can, and lead the way for more to hear the words…”Congratulations. You are in remission.”