My sister, Amy Eini , is a lymphoma survivor. This hub is about Amy's story, her book Breathing Deep and the Empathy Fund, a fund that Amy started to raise the quality of life for cancer patients and their families. Proceeds from the sales of the Breathing Deep are donated to the Empathy Fund,

Breathing Deep is an inspirational true story told through a collection of our family's voices. Her own, mine, our mother's , her husband's and 13 year old daugher's. Each of us , in our own way, offers an intimate perspective on the emotional turmoil of dealing with cancer.

It started with a cough. That’s all. Nothing sinister. As a busy working mother of three with a lot on her plate, Amy wasn’t unduly concerned but I was. I know my little and only sister better than anyone else. The circles under her eyes and the weight loss were a sure sign that something was wrong. But Amy waved away my concerns saying she was just stressed out because of her daughter Daniel's Bat Mitzvah, and our parents arrival in Israel for the occassion. I knew she was nervous about the logistics of our parents visit, as we are two sisters married to two Israeli brothers and having moved from Canada to Israel these visits were a very special event, but still, I didnt buy Amy's reasoning.

The cough just wouldn’t quit and , after my parents flew back to Canada, Amy finally went to have it checked. She wasn’t expecting the diagnosis she received. At 37, Amy had lymphoma, cancer of the lymphatic system. A bulky tumor had almost completely taken over her left lung, with nodules in the right lung and in the chest cavity. That diagnosis was to turn her life , our lives upside down. Up until that moment, she’d been a nondrinking, nonsmoking, otherwise perfectly healthy woman. Overnight, she’dtaken on another identity: that of cancer patient. Her normal routine as manager of maintenance services for Kibbutz Dalia and mother of three had been completely disrupted. The nagging cough had turned into a lifethreatening bogeyman.

Once, she wouldn’t have had that much in common with people in the hematology unit at Rambam Medical Center in Haifa. But within those walls Arabs and Jews, young and old, were brought together by a shared experience, undertaking a perilous journey into the unknown. “They come from all over and are of all ages. Apparently cancer doesn’t discriminate. I had no idea until this moment that I was being initiated into an underworld of the sick; a parallel universe where everyone struggles for life but no one is promised another tomorrow. A different,grimmer language is spoken here.”

In the weeks and months to follow, we all  become acquainted with terminology we’d never needed, or wanted, to know. Chemotherapy cocktails. The Mega Chop protocol. Cyclophosphamide. Mabthera. A myriad of medications we had never heard of, with unpronounceable names. Lifesaving concoctions of lethal chemicals whose job it was to eat away at the tumor.

We all rallied round to try and keep a semblance of normality. Mom, flew in from Canada to help with anything she could. She lived with Amy and her kids in the kibbutz during the week and for short breaks she stayed with me and my husband and our girls during the weekend . Despite our best efforts the strain took its toll. Tempers were frayed,patience was in short supply, and in the midst of it all, Amy was trapped in a nightmare, with no control over the script.

Amy's battle with cancer involved a series of grueling treatments that stretched over many months.Treatments that exhausted and nauseated her, and made even the simplest activity or household task seem overwhelming. When aggressive chemotherapy failed to yield the expected results, Amy underwent a bone marrow transplant.

Stuck in her hospital room, faced with unappetizing hospital food, she’d watch cooking shows (despite her lack of appetite) and fantasize about getting a celebrity chef to do a show in the hospital kitchen. From that initial idea, her imagination started to take flight.

“My brain is working overtime, distracting me from the slow grinding effort of my bone marrow [transplant]. So many ideas lift me like a helium balloon. Here I go, up to the ceiling, out of the staleness of this room and into the vast blue skies of unlimited possibilities. I am thinking about gathering books for the outpatient clinic … What about support groups? I am so excited by all ofthis that I think I am throwing up less.”

Back at the kibbutz, her joy at being back home was tempered by the struggle to cope with her radical change in lifestyle. Home alone, while everyone else fulfilled their daily obligations, she discovered that her feelings of isolation were not yet over: “Here I stand, idle and useless, just as isolated as I was within the confines of my hospital room.” During her recuperation, when even folding the laundry seemed like a small victory, she slowly began to put the idea of creating a library for the clinic in motion, collecting magazines and planning a mobile shelving unit with her husband’s help. Donations flooded in from the kibbutz until finally the dream became a tangible reality.

“We push the magazine trolley into the Outpatient Clinic and my heart beats fast with excitement as I watch expressions of surprise and pleasure on the faces of both patients and their families. The nurses are thrilled, knowing that this addition will be a most welcome distraction for the patients and their families during treatment.”

Amy was not done being a patient just yet. A PET scan revealed a stubborn spot of tumor near her heart, and radiation treatment was scheduled. Twenty-one days of treatment lay ahead of her. Her stress levels reached record highs. It was then that she grabbed a black marker pen and created a “Things To Do” list for the months to come. No. 3 on her list: Fill my leisure hours with something for me (more ideas for Rambam?) The desire to something meaningful and helpful for others filled her with a new sense of enthusiasm and energy, combated by the disturbing reality of the side-effects from her treatments. Weak and strained, the attainment of her list of goals sometimes seemed far out of reach.

Gradually, Amy became accustomed to seeing the same people every day, each with their ownstory and their own struggle. Parents and children. Somebody’s mother, somebody’s son. While life went on as normal outside, battles were being fought in the cancer ward.It was then that she had another brainstorm. Faced with hours of treatment, patients and their loved ones were in need of something life-affirming to take their minds off the treatment. Amy’s friend Ava, an art therapist from the kibbutz, was roped into going to the clinic for an hour every week to do some art therapy with the patients. They were delighted as they set about making their creations, beautiful hand painted scarves.

Amy has now been in remission for four years and founded the Empathy Fund in 2005. She runs annual fundraising events to improve the quality of life of intreatment cancer patients and their families. The Empathy fund strives to offer essential support to patients and their families by responding to their informational, emotional, and social needs.

Fund raising events include an open air craft market in Kibbutz Daliya, a concert with famous singers, from Israeli version of American Idol, who donated their time and amazing talent. Proceeds from sales of the tickets went towards the empathy fund. Here on the right you can watch Amy being interviewed by Liron Mor, about the concert and the book launch.

The Empathy Fund has made a major difference in the lives of people who spend so many hours waiting, wondering, and worrying. The magazine library has expanded to include DVDs, which can be watched on the five mobile computers given to patients in isolation to enable them to communicate with the outside world. The metal chairs in the family room were replaced with cozy sofas, a television stand, coffee tables, and soft lighting. A washing machine and dryer was brought in for families who stay for long periods of time in the Bone Marrow Transplant Department, while their loved ones are being treated. “My desire to give back to the department seems to feed off itself and grow, giving such a sense of meaning and satisfaction to my life,”says Amy.

Amy’s plans go far beyond onsite assistance and an online support group, “I am pushing to create a retreat for patients, who have just completed treatment or who are well enough to participate with doctors' approval.” Her vision is that of a pastoral retreat where patients can getaway from the hospital environment overnight and participate in relaxing health-promoting activities, such as massages, yoga, and walks in the woods. “I am really excited about the retreatand am in the midst of planning how to make it all happen!”

You can read more about Amy, our fundraising events and purchase the book at Amy's website, Breathing Deep. I am the creator and designer of Amy's site, so if you notice any problems or mistakes please let me know. You can write me at karen@coacheng.co.il

Special thank you to Liane Shalev, from Writeup, www.writeup.co.il   for her amazing article about Amy, which helped me create this hub!

Special thank you to Liron Mor who is helping to promote Amy's work.

Special thank you to family and friends who have always been around through the difficult times and the celebrations .