Annette John-Hall: A helping hand for those with cancer

Three years ago, as my dear friend Gloria Harper Dickinson waged a losing battle with inflammatory breast cancer, she would constantly mention the name of Lillie Daniels.

"My guardian angel," Gloria would say.

That year, I met Daniels with Gloria at the annual luncheon for cancer survivors (or overcomers, as Daniels likes to say) hosted by her foundation, Bread of Life. Right away, I understood why Gloria loved her so much.

See, as a cancer survivor herself, Daniels knew what Gloria was going through. Not only was she a key member of Gloria's support team, she provided medical equipment, medicine, money, and a strong shoulder to lean on for countless others with cancer.

Daniels was the manna Gloria needed.

"We have got to figure out a way to get Lil more support," Gloria told me then, always the people connector, even from her sickbed. In the deliberate, scholarly way she had of speaking, my college professor pal made the request I knew was coming: "You have got to do a story."

Well, in 2008, just before President Obama's inauguration, Gloria lost her battle with a cruelly aggressive cancer that metastasized to her brain. I still miss her so much it hurts.

But Gloria would be happy to know that I've followed through on my promises.

I have faithfully written about cancer every year to try to raise awareness.

And thanks to Gloria's connection, this year's column honors Daniels and the work she's doing through Bread of Life.

An energetic 68-year-old, Daniels has taken Bread of Life from a small Willingboro nonprofit - which collected medical equipment from people who no longer needed it, refurbished it, and distributed it to those who did - to a one-stop support service.

Daniels, her husband, Solomon, and a handful of volunteers do everything from giving folks rides to their chemotherapy treatments to paying for medications to cutting checks to help subsidize co-pays.

"This year, we've given out $5,000," Daniels says proudly. "That may not sound like much, but it's a lot for us."

As often happens when life slaps you wide awake, Daniels found her true calling after she discovered a lump in her left breast in 2002. She underwent a radical mastectomy and six rounds of double chemotherapy treatments.

Working as an escort in the oncology unit at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital, Daniels heard patients without insurance complain about how they couldn't afford their treatments and the medicines that would relieve them of the side effects from chemo.

Cancer is expensive. Heck, reconstructive surgery set Daniels back $7,000. And that was with her husband's insurance paying 80 percent.

Daniels paid a visit to Dean I. Weitzman, her friend and "adopted son." Yes, that Dean Weitzman, managing partner of My Philly Lawyer, whose radio ads saturate all the stations I listen to.

"She came to me saying she wanted to open a nonprofit to help others," Weitzman recalls. "I kind of said OK, never expecting to hear from her."

But in 2003, says Weitzman, "Lil shows up. She's getting her hair back, and she said, 'I made it. You promised you'd help me open my 501c-3.'

"Right then I knew never to underestimate my girl Lil."

Weitzman serves as master of ceremonies for Bread of Life's annual luncheon. This year's event drew 400 people and made more than $20,000.

After the holidays, Daniels will have a few months to rest - if you can call it that - before her next big bowling fund-raiser in April. But this year, her work has taken on added urgency.

Last February, she found a lump on her neck. The cancer had returned, this time in her lymph nodes.

More surgery and chemo haven't deterred the fighter whom friends call "Pit" - short for pit bull.

"I feel great," Daniels says. "They haven't found it in my blood or in my bones, so I'm good to go."

Daniels' positive attitude isn't surprising to her friends.

"People in her situation could feel sorry for themselves, but Lil has a very strong and very personal relationship with God," Weitzman says. "That pretty much explains who she is."

Sitting in her spotless living room in Willingboro, Daniels matter-of-factly considers her new diagnosis.

"I'm not leaving here until I'm finished," she declares. "I wouldn't trade my life for nobody - as long as I know it's the life God wants for me."

She reaches for a tissue and it's all good. I know hers are tears of gratitude.

Because she's already won.