They're doing a feel-good thing

"We come from families that work hard, and we don't talk about going to the doctor as a wellness program," Toni Laudermilk said. "We only go to the doctor when we're flat on our back. And when we come home, we don't talk about it. At least that's the kind of history most African Americans experience. Our parents didn't say, oh, you know, your grandmother had a double mastectomy."

Laudermilk runs the Center for LifeLong Learners, a nonprofit after-school program in the West Adams neighborhood. Earlier this year she was diagnosed with acinic cell adenocarcinoma, a rare cancer of the salivary glands, and she has made her way regularly to Sisters Staying Healthy.

Talking with Brownn and the other women made the stylish 62-year-old realize how important a family health history is and how little she knew about her relatives -- and, by extension, her own body. She called her real sisters and compared notes.

Laudermilk knew that her mother's mother had had a double mastectomy, because she once walked in on the older woman dressing; no one ever said the reason was cancer. Laudermilk didn't find out until her 40s that her Uncle Buddy's missing leg had been amputated because of diabetes.

And then there's the other side of the family. Her father killed himself. His brother killed his wife and committed suicide. The couple's babies spent two days in the apartment alone with the bodies. The older one killed himself in his 20s. The younger one grew up to be a recluse.

"Something was really, really off," Laudermilk said. "Once again, there was never any conversation around it, so you know it's something I'll never have an answer to. It is something I wonder."

Laudermilk's loved ones will have far fewer mysteries to unravel. Brownn gave her a health diary and extra copies to hand out to her book group.

She is documenting her own condition. She's cataloging her husband's various medications and the ailments they address. She'll soon be sitting down with her daughter, Ch-a Mosley, and telling all. Families, she said, "need to learn how to talk about their health issues."

And she's practicing just that, one Thursday evening each month.

"My name is Toni Laudermilk," she began recently before segueing into menopause and weight gain, caring for an ailing mother and nurturing a marriage, keeping a nonprofit afloat in a recession.

"It was all a bit much," she continued. "So I decided that I am slowly getting myself back together so I can play tennis again, play with the little senior ladies like I used to. I want to ski some more.

"I am not dead yet."

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maria.laganga@latimes.com