CKC United Blog

Monday, 24 January 2011 11:10

Music: Take the Ride

Written by Mary Liberatore

MUSIC – the universal sound that transcends language, race, religion, and time. From near to far and coast to coast, it brings together friends and strangers alike for one reason: a commitment to find the groove. Whether you prefer the White Album to Exile on Main Street, or get down to something completely different, one thing remains the same. No matter your favorite musician, album, or rift - music is more than what we listen to, to pass the time. It's a way of life.

MUSIC – the nectar of the gods that we can’t seem to get enough of. It feeds our souls and frees our minds of life’s many intricacies. Music moves us. It calls us to action and makes us react. Music helps us celebrate good times and move forward from the bad. It reminds us that we are all one small part of a very big picture.

My first music memory is the sound of Motown in my father's garage. I always had a beat in my feet and he always knew the words. I can hear “Shotgun” (by Junior Walker and the All-stars) reverberate off the walls and smell the lacquer from the freshly painted dashboards. I remember my first attempts at twisting my toes into the ground with dance. It is memories like these that make me want to create more with the people and music I love.The thought of making these yet-to-happen memories constantly fuels me and continues to drive my love of music.

It is amazing what we can recall from a single moment in a familiar song. A first kiss. A bad break up. An amazing adventure with friends. The music and the memories are just a few steps away. In the words of Hunter S. Thompson, “Buy the ticket. Take the ride.” And never look back.

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Wednesday, 01 December 2010 11:00

What an amazing year!

Written by Nya Matthews

I cannot express how honored I am to have accomplished one of my lifelong dreams.

Within a group of friends who have a passion for the music scene, we formed a non-profit organization.

From casual gatherings to black tie affairs, CKCU has raised $10,000 in 2010 to give to breast cancer patients of the Kimmel Cancer Center.

We formed a bond within this group that is very similar to a family. It proves that the saying, "Your friends are the family that you pick" is very true. We've been though it all, and it made us into better people and a bigger family.

I personally want to thank all of the members, volunteers, and contributors to CKCU for making everything possible. I couldn't have done it without you. You all have worked diligently and have made this organization strong.

A very special thank you goes out to my mother, Mrs. Anita Matthews for sharing her story with us and giving me the chance to create an event that was based on an illness that isn't very easy for anyone to want to share.

Because we had so much fun, we have decided that we are going to do another fundraiser campaign in 2011 for a charity in Baltimore, MD.

We will be making the big announcement on December 4th, 2010 at our kickoff party at Club Orpheus located on 1003 East Pratt Street in Baltimore.

Please check out our events page for more info on this event. See you all on the 4th! This show isn't something that you should miss.

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Friday, 26 March 2010 10:06

A Journey of Fear - A Walk of Faith - And A Second Chance: Part 3

Written by Anita Hanna Matthews – Aka Nya’s Mom

Eight months of Chemo and 28 days of radiation

For Everything There is a Season

A Time to Be ILL and a Time to Be HEALED - I AM AN 8-YEAR SURVIVOR

It has been eight years ago to this very month that I’m submitting the final documentation of my Journey of Fear, A Walk of Faith and a Second Chance. Now I can finally add, REMISSION and I AM AN 8-YEAR SURVIVOR, which I consider to be a “state of amazing grace” with bountiful thanksgiving.

I can only tell you of my experience – seldom, if ever, does any illness or result affect everyone the same. But I can truly say, that because of the support of my wonderful family, my awesome medical team, my caring friends and my spiritual faith, I never felt alone, lonely nor ready to give up in spite of the surgery and reshaping of my upper torso, the temporary effects of the chemo, the discoloration from the radiation treatments, nor the lymphedema. Bottom line, I am a SURVIVOR.

So now it time for chemo. My treatments began in February 2002 and I chose to go on Monday mornings at 7:30am. I took my walkman to listen to inspirational music. That really helped a lot. The slow dripping chemo infusions took anywhere from 3 to 3.5 hours. I was scheduled to go every two weeks. On many occasions, my treatment was postponed because the drugs used for chemotherapy are so very potent. The drugs not only destroy cancerous cells, they also destroy the white blood cells – which is your immune system. When the white cells crashed, the solution to this was, of course, an infusion of another drug. My dear sister, Alda, who used to be a lab tech and was accustomed to giving shots, would come over about 5:00 p.m. each day to administer the shot. I did not have the nerve to self-administer this very painful shot.

Well, after three chemo treatments, in March, my hair began to get brittle and dry. When I woke up in the morning, I began to see stands of hair on my pillow. So I knew it was beginning to happen—the dreaded fallout. I took one last look at my hair, pulled it back in a ponytail, and cut it off to about one inch from the scalp. Before I did this, I did decide to go out and buy wigs that were very similar to my own hair. When the hair completely fell out, I cried, even though by then I was wearing wigs.

Regardless of how I felt, I would get up early in the morning, shower, and put my make-up on. By then my eyelashes and eyebrows were gone too.

Each time when a devastating physical adversity occurred, Nya would say, “You’re still my beautiful Mom and I know you will be alright.” My husband, Larry, tried to convince me that he liked my baldhead and that I looked great with a baldhead. (Yeah, right – I am not that bold). Not only did the hair from the head fall out, my eyebrows, my eyelashes and hair everywhere (I looked as if I had jumped into a big hot tub of wax)

Because chemo kills good and bad cells, some of the my other devastating effects of chemotherapy included: my fingernails and toenails turning black and two of my toe nails falling off (they did grow back). My eyes were very sensitive to light, I had anxiety spells, my gums were sore, I got tired easily, and some days I didn’t have an appetite.

One day my oldest daughter Migdalia and her daughter Shantey came by. I had just decided to experiment with wearing false eyelashes. I had never worn false eyelashes before and I did not know how to put them on properly. The eyelash glue was not working and the eyelash was crooked and just hanging on the eyelid. Migdalia could not help but to laugh – she kept apologizing, though. I did look funny and had to laugh at myself. Well, needless to say, that was the last time I tried to wear fake eyelashes. Migdalia finally said, “Mom, I love you just the way you are.”

Most of the chemo treatments were administered during the spring and summer months. I was prompted to stay out of bright and prolonged sunlight (it made me feel somewhat sick). I was also encouraged to get lots of rest, moderate exercise, drink lots of water, and be conscientious of a good wholesome nutritional program – which meant eating the right food; avoiding too many products made with white sugar (sweets, candy, soda,) and lighten up on the fried foods and junk foods. I ate lots of dark colored fruits such as purple grapes, cherries, blueberries, raspberries, tomatoes, whole-grain breads, etc. and all foods that were loaded with antioxidants.

I was off from work with benefits from January through July. I went back to work in August knowing that I was going to retire in September. I would leave during the day (on Mondays) for a chemo treatment and take the next day off. I had enough service with the State to retire with full medical benefits and a great retirement package.

I had GOOD days and GREAT days. I never claimed to have a bad day. No matter what happened I did all I could to keep my mind focused. As long as the treatments were working, no matter how I felt, I tried to stay optimistic and determined to continue the fight for my life. I wanted to LIVE! Finally, my sisters and brothers, the day came when I received my last chemo treatment. So far – so good!

So now, it’s late October and time for Radiation Treatments. Radiation is used in the concentrated area where the malignancy occurred – while chemotherapy treatments are designed to travel throughout the body to track down stray cancerous cells that might be traveling throughout the body.

I received my 28-day (Monday-Friday) Radiation treatments at The Polyclinic Pinnacle Health in Harrisburg from the excellent team of Dr. Newton, Dr. Sewell, their caring nurses and the wonderful staff of Radiation technicians.

Each treatment only took about 30 minutes (including prep-time). Each time I went, I was in and out so very quickly. Radiation was administered in the area of the mastectomy and on my back. The first day, Larry took me – but because the treatments were not harsh and I was feeling great, most of the time, I drove myself. This gave me a sensational sense of an astronomical independence. (YIPPEE!—I’m me again). I got through the radiation treatments right on schedule. Some days, (now it is December 2002) I was very tired, seemed very prone to catching colds, but because I was retired and did not have to work, I had all the time to rest and relax.

That year, Nya did most of my Christmas Shopping because the cold air really seemed to bother me a lot. We had a lovely Christmas, I was feeling great, my family felt a sense of relief and it was great to know that I had successfully finished the treatments and we all felt a sense of optimism that everything was going to be alright.

There is only one outward indication of this illness that you might notice about me. Because the majority of my lymph glands were removed in my left armpit, I developed a disorder in the lymphatic system. The lymphatic system transports fluids throughout the body that may contain bacteria and viruses. When there is a shortage of lymph glands, it prohibits the normal process of removing these toxins from the area. This causes the arm to swell because fluid cannot circulate as it should. Sometimes, I wear a prescription elastic sleeve or glove – have to be careful about using my left arm too much (heavy lifting, etc.) Some types of clothing I cannot wear; however, despite the swollen arm and minor limitations, I was given a second chance and I count my blessings.

Thanks to my remarkable and vigilant family members: Larry, Nya, Bill, Alda, Rose, Annette, Connie, Migdalia, and Shantey; to my many dear friends, and extended family, and my spiritual praying partners, and my medical team who nurtured and encouraged me.

Special Thanks to the outstanding and marvelous CKCU who cares enough to step in a direction that offers credence to charitable works. Your assistance through your thoughtfulness, dedication, hard work, impressive multi-talents and support conveys a blend of merging tradition with the new wave through your unique sparkle and astute consciousness deeds that only you can deliver. Although Research Labs and Medical Teams are making remarkable strides and progress to treat, cure, and obliterate this overwhelming disease, I firmly believe that the secret ingredient to surviving comes when people such as CKCU gives that special TOUCH of T.L.C. (letting us know that we are not alone). That too, promotes extraordinary healing results.

And, if any one of you are among those who have taken this journey, or if you know someone who is on a similar journey please tell them “don’t give up – keep hope alive – each day is a gift -- keep the faith – miracles are still among us.” This I truly know because, I AM A SURVIVOR and I WANT YOU TO BE TOO!

Love to All,

Anita

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Wednesday, 03 March 2010 09:49

A Journey of Fear - A Walk of Faith - And A Second Chance: Part 2

Written by Anita Hanna Matthews – Aka Nya’s Mom

THE SURGERY AND THE FIRST CHEMO TREATMENT:

For Everything There is a Season

A Time to Be ILL and a Time to Be HEALED

So, now it’s January 2002 – and my surgery is scheduled for the 20th of the month. By this time I had already broken the news to Nya – she took it very well and although her sad little eyes filled with tears, she kept encouraging me and saying that everything was going to be all right. Well, I too, was putting the best on the outside.

It seemed as if each time I told family members and a few friends and the staff on my job, that dreaded look of “Oh, no!” came into their eyes, and I knew just what they were thinking.

Knowing this, I had to be very selective and careful of whom I told, what I said, and when I told them the news. In fact, I did not tell my one of my sisters until the day before my surgery, she was kind of angry with me, but she too was carrying her own personal burdens.

My husband, Larry and I persuaded Nya to stay at home during the procedure, and we would call her during the day. Everybody knows that Nya is not an early riser and we had to check in at the hospital by 5:45 a.m. I really did not mind going so early since I didn’t want anyone to see me checking in, just in case they would ask why was I there. While checking in I was filled with overwhelming anxiety, not so much about the surgery, I was afraid to be induced into sleep. You know, “what if I don’t wake up; what would my family do; do they know where all the important papers are at home; do they know what bills are due, what if - what if, - - what if! And when I do wake up, what will the prognosis be -- suppose the news would be too devastating! I Then I kept telling myself – I can’t let doubt and fear override my faith and my will to live.

While changing into my hospital gown, I took my final look at my “whole” body for the last time. I knew that I would never again have a matching “balanced bosom”. Oh, yes at a time like this, vanity and femininity-identity awareness kicks in hard. Tears trickled from my eyes – my husband avoided looking into my face. I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Was he scared? Would he reject me? I know he was more concerned about my health and survival than about my physical appearance. But yet, I still wondered just how he would react after my surgery.

Finally, the nurses came in with cheerful smiles ready to hook me up to IV’s (of course they had a heck of a time trying to find a decent vein). Once that was completed, they rolled me out of my room, down the hall, onto the elevator, down another hall and into the operating room. From the time I left the room I kept my eyes closed saying prayers. I can’t begin to tell you what the operating room looked liked – I kept my eyes closed, answered questions, kept (trying to) smile as the surgeons and staff spoke encouraging words to me.

The next thing I remembered was being in the recovery room to the sound of someone calling my name, “Anita, Anita, it’s time to wake up.” In spite of the drainage tubes, IV’s, monitors, etc, I remember thinking, Great! I woke up and that was my first “victory.”

Later that day, my surgeon stopped by my room to tell me the prognosis and the extent of the surgery (which we already knew), Mastectomy of the left breast and the removal of about 17 out of 22 lymph glands in my arm pit; flesh also had to be removed from the area of my rib cage. I remained in the hospital for four days, feeling safe and secure thanks to the medical staff that administered great care. Soon it was time to go home – and the rest was up to me.

My next step would be chemotherapy (aka chemo) and that was scheduled for mid-February. My surgeon assigned me to East Shore Oncologist where the chemo team (Dr. R. Alexander and Nurse Kim), would be in charge of second phase of the process. CHEMO! I’d heard so many fright stories about chemo and didn’t really know what to expect. However, when I arrived at the oncologist’s office and after signing in, I noticed that in the waiting room there were other patients there as well (1 teenage boy, 1 woman, and 1 man) waiting for their treatment. Just seeing them brought me to the reality of just how prevalent cancer must be.

My appointment was for 8:45 a.m. and by 8:40 my husband and I were ushered into a private room. The chemotherapy that would be intravenously administered was a “cocktail” of doxorubicin, cycophosphamide and cocetaxel. Nurse Kim explained the procedure to us, by saying the first round of chemo is to prevent nausea. The anti-nausea intravenous procedure took about 10 minutes (that wasn’t too bad). The color of this particular chemo was red and reminded me of liquid jello.

Afterwards, Nurse Kim brought in a another IV bag containing a different chemo. This chemo was administered by s-l-o-w drip that took approximately 3 hours to complete. That was a long 3 hours. Finally, the bag was empty and it was time to leave.

I was given another antinausea prescription to take after I got home. I was told to drink plenty of water to flush out the “red” medicine. When I got home, I began to drink lots of water, and yes, what goes in “red” comes out “red,” need I say more. I was very sleepy – a little tipsy from the chemo – glassy eyed – but glad that I made it through the first step. I felt a sense of accomplishment, knowing that the count-down had now begun.

My next appointment was in two weeks. Then I began to wonder. Will I be able to withstand the chemo treatment? Will I be sick all the time? When will my hair begin to fall out? What will I look like with a bald head? Should I just cut all my hair off now? Should I buy a wig OR, wear scarves and hats? Will I also lose my eyebrows and eyelashes? I tried not to think about these depressing thoughts, but it was inevitable – all of this was going to happen. My solace was, “thousands of women have walked this unwelcomed labyrinth before me. I wasn’t the first nor would I be the last.” That’s when I really made up my mind to ACCENTUATE the POSITIVE, ELIMINATE the negative, LATCH on to the AFFIRMATIVE, and stay FOCUSED on one word, “SURVIVOR!

To be continued: 8 months of chemotherapy and 28 days of radiation.

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Wednesday, 03 March 2010 09:27

A Word from the Parents of Marshall Thompson

Written by Clay and Donna Thompson

The last conversation I had with my son, Marshall Thompson, was 2 days before his untimely death. During that conversation he spoke excitedly about his involvement with CKC and how he and his group of friends were brainstorming and planning events and projects to raise money for worthy causes.

Had Marshall lived, we feel confident he would have been very engaged in CKC's endeavors since he seemed to love the people involved and the cause. Since then we have seen coordination of such events as the Marshall Thompson Pig Roast in Oct. (among others) and the upcoming Black Tie event in March 2010 - the proceeds of which go to the Kimmel Cancer Center in Philadelphia.

We are honored that the events for this year are being dedicated to Marshall's memory and are for such good causes. We so miss Marshall and although he is not with us and you planning these events, we pray he is with us all in spirit.

Love,

Clay and Donna Thompson

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Friday, 15 January 2010 11:18

A Journey of Fear - A Walk of Faith - And A Second Chance: Part 1

Written by Anita Hanna Matthews – Aka Nya’s Mom

A DREADED DISCOVERY, A DEFIANT DENIAL, THE DEVASTATING DIAGNOSIS: BREAST CANCER

Nothing Beats a TRY but a Failure

Hello, My name is Anita Hanna Matthews, I am a seven-year survivor of breast cancer, and when my daughter, Nya, asked me to share my story with CKC – from the alarming diagnosis of breast cancer, through treatment, and finally the glorious words of remission, I told her o.k. However, the truth of the matter is, I really do not want to relive this journey. I do not want to look back mainly, because I don’t want to memorialize the fears and tears, the trauma I put my family through and the adverse memories. I just want to live the healing.

Then I’ve began to think, I can give hope, or encourage or unveil some of the mysterious of this dreadful and devastating illness that so overwhelming attacks our bodies. If my story will help someone, the least I can do is to let them know that nothing beats a try but a failure.

The words, nothing beats a try but a failure are the words of encouragement that were spoken to me many years ago by my wonderful parents, (now deceased) Mr. & Mrs. Robert & Lucille Benjamin-Hanna, as they nurtured me and my 9 siblings through childhood. No matter what confrontations came our way– these words of encouragement always brought a sense of comfort, hope and determination that allied me, even so to this very day.

Seven and a half years ago, I was diagnosed with Stage 3 free radical invasive breast cancer. It just appeared out of nowhere – unrelated to hormones or injury.

Should you ask me: How did it get to Stage Three? Where was your mind during Stages One and Two? ANSWER: “Too Busy” and in denial. Did I do my monthly self-breast examinations? ANSWER: Sometimes. What about your yearly mammograms? ANSWER: I missed a few or two, just too busy.

Had you had problems or warnings before? ANSWER: I was in good health, never sick. I’ve always been safe, except for being previously diagnosed with cysts that were aspirated at the doctor’s office or removed as an in-patient and which were always diagnosed as benign. Well, Anita, Didn’t you feel discomfort or thickness or fullness? ANSWER: YES, but I was in denial because the location of the malignant tumor was closer to the rib cage, growing inward and it really didn’t feel that odd. Besides, I was picking up a little weight all over and blamed the enhancement to weight gain.

TELLS OF A DREADED DISCOVERY, A DEFIANT DENIAL, AND THE DEVASTATING DIAGNOSIS: BREAST CANCER

This was all happening during the late fall of 2001 – and the holidays were fast approaching – I didn’t have my shopping done and I really didn’t want to spoil anybody’s holiday. Towards the middle of December in 2001, I made an appointment to see my general practitioner. He said he was very concerned and made an appointment for me to go to the Women’s Imagining Center for a mammogram. The appointment was made for early January (at least I wouldn’t spoil anybody’s Christmas).

The day finally came that would change our lives forever! I chose to go to this appointment alone – I just wasn’t ready to face it – I was still trying to “get everything done” before it was too late. So, off I go for the mammogram (knowing all the time that I was in a danger zone) and, as usual after the mammogram, the technician said, “We’ll send the results to your doctor.” That gave me extra time to “get my house in order.”

About three days later, my doctor called me, said he had the results of the mammogram and was referring me to a surgeon for further consultation. I finally told my husband (Larry) and one of my sisters (Alda) what had been going on for the past three months. You can imagine how shocked (and a little angry at me) they were, especially since I hadn’t said anything about “my secret” and how I’ve been neglecting my health. They were also worried, I could tell. I still hadn’t told my Nya yet – wanted to protect her as long as I could from the devastation.

Finally, Larry and I met with the surgeon, who gave such a bleak and austere report and diagnosis regarding the mammogram, both my husband and I cried. The surgeon told us the visible part of the tumor is the size of a golf ball. It had attached itself to the rib cage, and had spread to the majority of my lymph glands in my armpit. There was also a possibility that there might be cancerous cells throughout my entire body. The only option I had was surgery--a mastectomy of the left breast, as well as aggressive chemotherapy and radiation treatment. The Surgeon also told me, I had no time to waste and even after these drastic proposals – there were still no guarantees of my survival or cure.

All I could think of was, I want to live and whatever it would take, I would do. Besides, nothing beats a try but a failure.

To be continued: The devastating surgery, 8 mos. of chemo and 28 days of radiation

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Sunday, 01 November 2009 10:53

A Word from the President: Nya Matthews

Written by Nya Matthews

Why did the CKC United choose to raise money for Women with Breast Cancer for our First fundraising event?

When I first envisioned CKC United, I saw it as a unique organization that could bring friends together to support a meaningful cause. There are a lot of people and charities that need help, but I wanted to pick something close to my heart and soul for our first event. My mom is a survivor of breast cancer of 7 years, and she is someone that is very special and important in my life. Anita Matthews is the reason I am the person that I am today. I don’t know what it’s like to have breast cancer, but I see how it affects her everyday. Breast cancer (or any cancer for that matter) affects EVERYONE! It is not something that you can ignore. All of us know someone who has struggled with disease and hardship. Being there for someone in their time of need is the greatest gift you can give.

The 2010 Fundraiser, Rock the Ribbon, is a way to show my mother that I appreciate every minute that I get to spend with her, and to show others that there are people out there who truly care.

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Friday, 30 October 2009 13:34

We are the CKC United

Written by Nya Matthews

The CKC began as a group of friends brought together by the Jamtronica music scene. After seeing lots of live music together, we decided we wanted to give something back to the community. After much deliberation and many informal meetings we chose the name CKC United to represent our organization.

The group is comprised of eight board members and many volunteers who have been passionate about the idea from conception and very involved in turning the idea into a reality.

We are in the process of becoming a non-profit organization with our main mission to raise money and awareness for various charities. Our current goal is hosting a Black Tie formal event called Rock the Ribbon. We will put our passion for live music to work while raising money for the Kimmel Cancer Center at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital. Read more about Rock the Ribbon here.

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