Surviving Cancer: An Anniversary Story

The Christmas season is here, with decorations, festivities and celebrations. The New Year marks the passing of another year. December is the birthday of Jesus Christ, and therefore the birthday of all who believe in him.

December also happens to be the month of my earthly birthday. December has always been momentous month for me. Fifteen years ago it became even more momentous, as I was in the middle of a battle against cancer.

My Personal Journey

"You have a tumor and it appears to be malignant".

These words, spoken by a doctor fifteen years ago, drastically changed the direction of my life.

Fifteen years ago, II was faced with a giant challenge. In the summer of 1992, I was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. It took a while to diagnose, but one day I heard the most shocking news. News that no one ever really believes they will hear. I went to the doctor's office to get the results for the MRI that I 'd had to explore the mass above my knee. I really believed that is was some kind of muscle injury, but it was getting painful, so had it checked out. The doctor was serious and grim when he gave me the news. He still wanted to do a biopsy, but he thought the MRI results were pretty clear. Then some words I had never heard before became very important to me. Words like: "You have a tumor, but it is well encapsulated", That last part was the good news.

The was the start of a flurry of activity that whirled around me like a hurricane, while I sat in the eye of it.

After the biopsy the doctor referred me to a surgeon who specializes in this rare tumor. Fortunately, one of the the leading specialists in the world was located at The University of Chicago, which was within driving distance for me. The doctors at The University of Chicago had reviewed my test results before even meeting with me. When I went for my appointment I was tearful and terrified, not feeling ready to die. My husband sat with me, as I laid on the table waiting for the doctor, I was sobbing.

The specialist walked into the exam room with purposeful energy and said "You know what you have? You know it is serious." He then laid out a treatment plan in understandable language. He obtained my agreement to the plan and barked out orders to the flurry of residents and nurses that were hovering about. For the first time in several weeks, I felt hopeful. We had a plan.

Obviously the main goal of treatment was to save my life, which was at risk. The tumor was advanced, aggressive and deadly. The second goal would be to preserve some quality of life. My surgeon had been instrumental in implementing a surgery called "limb salvage. Not too many years previous to this, the treatment of choice was amputation. Even with "limb salvage" there was no guarantee that I would keep my leg. That would not be known until I was actually in surgery. That was a few months off though.

Prior to surgery I had aggressive treatments including chemotherapy and high doses of radiation. The doctor's wanted to shrink and harden the tumor before removing it. Research has shown that chances of success are much improved with this treatment protocol. The three months before surgery were very long. My instinct was that I wanted the tumor out immediately, but the doctors knew what they were doing and I had to be patient with the treatment plan. It wasn't easy.

Chemotherapy was aggressive, and I was a sick girl indeed. I was hospitalized for two one week periods of constant chemotherapy and twice daily radiation doses. When I wasn't already in the hospital, I still had to go to the hospital daily for radiation and constant tests. I had multiple MRI's, Cat Scans, Bone Scans, and just about every other kind of test possible, or so it seemed.

Starting with the beginning of treatment, I was heavily medicated and unable to drive. For a six month period, I was not able to drive and had to rely on other people to transport me from home to hospital.

People gathered around me and lifted me up. People I would never expected to come forward for me. At the time I had been working at a real estate office for a short time. The real estate staff and other agents really rallied around me and went above and beyond to help me. They signed a rotation roster and ferried me down Lutheran General Hospital, which is where I had my daily radiation treatments.

Every morning I would bundle up against the chilly fall weather and venture out to a different waiting car. These wonderful people drove me for the 35 mile drive down to the hospital every morning, allowing my husband to go to work earlier. On days that my friends were not able to transport me, my father-in-law was always there for me and willing to help. He often took me for my appointments at The University of Chicago, which was farther away then Lutheran General.

My friends had a regular relay rally going on for me. My treatment plan required me to have a morning and afternoon radiation treatments, six hours apart. After receiving my first treatment of the day, my best friend would pick me up at the hospital and take me to her home nearby. She didn't expect much of me. She let me lay on her sofa while she researched a book she was writing.. She fed me lunch. During a time in my life when I was too nauseous to eat, her simple sandwiches, soup and potato chips tasted delicious to me. She told me that she just made the types of food for me that she could tolerate when she was pregnant. Her menu worked wonders for me.

When it was time to return to the hospital for my second daily treatment, she would drop me back off at the hospital and I would get another dose of radiation. After the treatment, my husband would pick me up at the hospital and ferry me back home.

I relied completely on the kind and generous people who cared for me, weaker by the minute. My co-workers brought me meals regularly, providing nutritious home cooked meals that I really appreciated. My neighbor across the street, was so kind to me during this time. She drove me to the hospital several times, and did everything she could. Thanksgiving came and I was too weak to go to the family party. My neighbor thought of me and asked if she could bring me a Thanksgiving meal. She was having a party, serving turkey with all the fixings. She made a generous plate for my husband and I and brought them over. The meal was delicious.We agreed that it was possibly the best Thanksgiving we ever had.

The following week, the nurse called me to inform me that surgery had finally been scheduled for December 10. Finally I had a date to hold on to.

God was with me during the entire ordeal, although I sometimes got very angry with Him for allowing this hideous disease to happen. How could He say He loved me while allowing this terrible ordeal. I can't say I ever got an answer to this, but have faith that there was a reason. I held on to God and talked to Him constantly. On the night before surgery, two friends came to my house and we prayed.

The hospital's policy was to not admit patients the night before surgery. They said it was for insurance reasons. We did not get much sleep the night before surgery. To add to the tension, that night surgery there was a Chicago snow storm. The snow storm we now had to drive to the hospital in added anxiety to a very tense day. I said good bye to my dogs, hoping I would see them again, and off we went. It was still dark out as we traveled down toward the City of Chicago. We picked up some family members who wanted to wait at the hospital during the surgery.

My surgery was the surgeon's third of the day. I checked in and waited in the general waiting room to be called. Finally, at about noon, it was my turn. My husband walked me to the elevator, until the nurse said he could accompany me no further. We hugged and kissed, each assuring the other that we would see each other later.

At about 9:00 pm, I was coming out of anesthesia and being rolled toward intensive care. Before surgery I been told there was about a fifty percent chance that my leg would have to be amputated. The very first thing I did upon awakening, was look at my foot. It was still there! I don't know if anyone was ever so happy to see their foot as that.

I was wheeled to my room were my husband, father-in-law, and sister-in-law were waiting. They had had a long day too. They stayed only a short time, to see I was situated and said good night and journeyed home.

I really hung on to God during this ordeal. Even though I had a lot of anger at what was happening to me, I felt He was very close to me.I sometimes felt He was communicating with me. I had asked Him to be with me in surgery and to guide the surgeon's hand and I really believe that He did.

Another thing I really held on to during this ordeal was that people can survive cancer. I was fortunate to know two long time survivors, who had been told they were going to die. While I was going under anesthesia, I thought about them. They made it, I hoped I could too.

My father was one of these long time survivors. He had colon cancer and after surgery had been given a prognosis of about a year to live. Nine years later he was still around. Ironically. his surgery had been on the exact same date as mine, nine years earlier.

The following year was tense with constant tests. The tests and exams gradually got spaced further apart. When I reached my first anniversary the doctors said it was very good. When I reached my second anniversary the doctors said it was excellent. A few years later I heard the word "cured", whispered in awe by some new Residents in the hallway of the hospital, who were looking at my MRI results.

My father celebrated the anniversary of his cancer surgery with great joy every year. He called his anniversary his birthday. Now we had a mutual celebration. It wasn't a noisy celebration. Our celebrations were quiet and hopeful. Every year he would call me and say something like "Happy Birthday, you are five and I am fourteen! It was our shared joke.

I celebrate the fifteenth anniversary of my cancer surgery in private. I am so grateful for every single person who has helped me on my journey. It is possible to survive cancer. Surviving cancer does not mean you will not have other problems in life. Even though you may feel like you have run a marathon, the crowds are not screaming and cheering from the sidelines. They do not necessarily feel the same appreciation for living another day as the survivor.

The aftermath of severe illness is real and it is also serious. Financial problems are very common among cancer survivors, as with any serious disease. Even with great insurance, there is lost income and other expenses. Life goes on and other problems come along to be dealt with. Sadly, both my father and my husband have passed on since I have been pronounced cured.

Still, I breathe a prayer of thank you that I am still around to have problems. Things may not always go my way, but they are not as bad as having cancer. Having already heard the words that no one wants to hear, I can always think it is uphill from there.

On December 10, I still Thank God for another year, and whisper Happy Birthday to my Dad.

This is my fifteenth birthday!

Enjoy the spirit of Xmas during the holiday season.

Merry Xmas and Happy New Year