| Making a Difference |
About ONEgroup
Hello! I'm Kathleen Balaban, and welcome to EMC Organics.
I began my journey in October of 1991, on my 40th birthday, when one of my friends said to me, "Life begins at 40." She could not have been more correct. Not too long after, in February of 1992, I wasn’t feeling well and saw my physician, who diagnosed me with non-Hodgkin lymphoma: cancer of the immune system. At the time of diagnosis, 10 percent of my bone marrow was already cancerous. How ironic, considering I had been relatively healthy all my life. The most serious illnesses I suffered from were simply colds or the so called 24-hour flu.
I remembered my birthday and what my friend had said, and I thought that the life that I had was going to change: It wasn’t beginning, but ending. However, it was in fact, just beginning. One cannot receive a terminal diagnosis without reflecting on what that truly means. Most people don’t know when they are going to quote-unquote expire, as my oncologist so eloquently put it. He said my cancer was considered slow-growing and untreatable, and set my "expiration date" at 8 years. His recommendation was no medical treatment. I looked at my watch, then back to the oncologist and said, "Doing nothing is not an option. At this time, I am of sound mind (yeah right!) and am old enough to sign on the bottom line for a clinical trial. If you choose not to take this opportunity, I am sure someone else in these contiguous United States will. You have one minute to make up your mind, as I have an expiration date now stamped on my body."
The Power of Determination
My oncologist had never acquainted himself with the person inside the body on which he had just put an expiration date. I had recently retired from a traveling softball team I had played with for 18 years. I live in Minnesota, and when winter ended the softball season each year, I played racquetball to stay in shape. I also held an executive position in a large financial organization, and crisis management was a critical part of my job.
I believe that he was as surprised by my comment as I was by his expiration diagnosis. He just sat there and looked at me -- his mind was racing as fast as mine was. I looked at my watch again. It was then that he told me about a clinical trial for my type of cancer, but that my lungs and heart needed to be tested to ensure that they were strong enough to take the aggressive treatment. He felt that I was too old at the age of 40 to withstand the high-dose chemotherapy.
My heart and lungs tested above average, and I began the clinical trial in 1992. During that time, I stayed focused on my mind -- I didn’t want to lose what little I had left and informed my physician that I didn't need to know the statistics pertaining to my disease. They were median numbers and I had never been an average number. To me, average meant either the worst of the best or the best of the worst.
At the end of the three-month trial, I had no hair, but the cancer in my bone marrow was less than an aggregate of 1 percent, making me eligible for a bone marrow transplant. The average hospital stay for a transplant recipient was three to six months, which fortunately I didn’t know at the time. My goal was to be home for Christmas, to spend time with my family and friends, so every day I told my transplant doctor and nurses that I was going home for Christmas. Every day the doctor would tell me not to get my hopes up; he didn’t want me to be disappointed if he couldn’t release me because my blood counts were too low, which were posted daily on a grease board in my room. One day he finally specified what the counts needed to be for him to comfortably release me. That was all I needed to hear. I was admitted on Nov. 21, 1992, and released on Dec. 19, 1992 so I was indeed home for Christmas! This was the shortest hospital stay for any transplant recipient at the time.
The Next Challenge
When we trust in others and ourselves, anything is possible. I knew I didn't have enough time to learn which treatment plan was the best for me. So prior to my transplant, I researched which medical teams were considered the best in my area. I hired them to take care of my body, while I took care of my mind. I learned everything I could about living well, rather than living long. I spoke with transplant recipients that had received livers, kidneys, bone marrow, and more, and found that they all had used imagery and visualization. As an athlete, this wasn’t a new concept to me. They all chose to live in the moment, rather than think about the past or worry about the future. They were insightful and enlightening. I had spent my entire life chasing the almighty dollar, and now instead, I feel completely connected to my Almighty.
I now have the pleasure of meeting my oncologist every four months for what I call a “show and tell, touch and feel” day. I show and tell, and he touches and feels. In 1999, he found tumors in my neck, chest and abdomen; and I started another bout of chemotherapy that featured a new drug, Rituxan. Rituxan, he said, had put other patients into remission for about a year. In 2000, I was informed that I had melanoma and required surgery because it had metastasized. After a second surgery, all was well.
Then, in 2003, my world completely changed: I was diagnosed with multiple chemical sensitivity. This new diagnosis was the most challenging -- I could no longer work or interact with others in modern human environments containing chemicals. This really meant everywhere! I had to give up my season tickets to the theater to avoid exposure to perfumes and other chemically laden scents. I couldn't work in an office where there were copiers, printers, fax machines and off-gassing from computers, rendering me disabled from my employment. Going out for dinner and a movie is now regulated to lunch and a matinee, because fewer people frequent restaurants and theaters earlier in the day.
The melanoma and multiple chemical sensitivity diagnoses are independent from the lymphoma diagnosis. And the one-year Rituxan prognosis in 1999 was somewhat incorrect for me -- as of 2009, I am still in remission. But, as you may have noticed, I don’t pay attention to expiration dates, unless it relates to food.
A New Chapter
I was introduced to ONEgroup’s products in the fall of 2006. My cousin lived in Australia and had seen a local magazine advertisement about this wonderful line of certified organic products. I tried some samples and was truly grateful for a company that creates certified
organic, natural and 100 percent chemical-free products. It was the first time in almost five years that I could put a product on my skin and not have negative reaction. I started using the products first as a customer, then decided to make a difference for myself and others by
getting involved with ONEgroup.
Just as I did with my health, I researched the products and found that they are the best of the best. And ONEgroup is comprised of wonderful, supportive people that truly believe in health and environmental preservation. I spent 35 years of my life working in an industry
that cut down trees and turned them into checks. Now, I can help myself and others like me find products that are healthy for the body, ingredients and manufacturing processes that are beneficial to the environment and future generations, as well as financial independence
for those who also want to make a difference.
More About ONEgroup
| • Read about ONEgroup and its company directors, Narelle Chenery, Colin Chenery and Alf Orpen. • Learn more about what ONEgroup is doing to: ◦ Promote social responsibility. ◦ Give back to the environment. ◦ Minimize its impact on our natural resources. |