The Times of Our Lives: Anytime, Anywhere: The “C” Word

In January, Jennifer introduced a new series of posts that would feature the topic ,”Times of Our Lives,” which were to be discussions and memories of events and experiences that shaped our lives after our graduation from CHS. For many of us a diagnosis of cancer came as one of those life-changing events and as a result we have never been the same either physically or emotionally. Cancer in many ways serves as a catalyst that connects us to our classmates, friends, family, and strangers who share the common bond and experience of cancer. Each person who has been diagnosed with cancer has a story to tell and while cancer is the common factor, every experience and story is different and yet the much the same. One definite commonality is that each person is, as long as he or she lives, a survivor. Because I know that many of you have shared this experience or, sadly, you or someone you love will at some point be faced with battling cancer, I have chosen to share my story as one of the “Times of Our Lives.”

In our family we often refer to a series of events that shape or alter our lives in the most amazing way as a “God Thing” because we have no other explanation as to how things can come together so perfectly at a time when we most need it. It is easy for us to see the hand of God working behind the scenes. In 2002 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The diagnosis came at a time when so many things were working to my benefit that afterwards, I could only be humbled and grateful for everything that came to be.

I have always been a firm believer in having a mammogram every year as my doctor ordered. Normally, a visit to an office would be necessary. Early in 2002 the mobile mammogram van very conveniently arrived at my work place by prior appointment, and I lined up with my female co-workers to take my turn. Now here we could spend a great deal of time describing the event for as you know reams of words have given over to colorful descriptions of every sort, but as Jennifer would admonish “now you digress” but you ladies know what I mean. I left the mobile lab feeling a little smug having done my “thing” and then I promptly forgot all about it.

A couple of weeks later, I found myself at a conference in Austin when suddenly I received a phone call from the Harrington Cancer Center whose lab had performed the mammogram. I had been tracked all the way to Austin to receive a call that I needed to return as soon as possible to repeat the test. I received the call calmly and went on about my business but in the back of my mind all kinds of scenarios were clanging around in my head. Of course, I preferred to believe that it was just a fluke and would soon be corrected.

Of course, when I returned, it was not a fluke; a tiny spot remained visible on the second x-ray which was quickly followed by a sonogram and an appointment with a doctor I had never met or even heard of. I was unaware that about 2 or 3 weeks prior to my first mammogram the cancer center had hired a radiation oncologist breast specialist to head up the program and by the grace of God, Dr. John “Chip” Coscia entered my life and for the next few weeks it was his unfailing professionalism and skill that led to my diagnosis and ultimate recovery. The tiny spec on the x-ray was not able to be detected by human hands (and believe me they all tried). I believe that because of Dr. Coscia’s training and skill that my cancer was detected eons before if would have been otherwise and because of this my prognosis was excellent. During this time I became familiar with the process leading to a breast cancer diagnosis including a needle biopsy skillfully done by Dr. Coscia. By that time, I had become mentally prepared for what was to come. When the phone rang while I was at work and I found Dr. Coscia and his nurse, Janet, on the line, I calmly accepted what they had to tell me without falling apart. Ironically, the date was February 14, 2002, Valentines Day.

At that moment my librarian instincts kicked in and I began to intensely research breast cancer. I believe to be informed is to be armed. Jim and I made a trip to Barnes and Noble and as I walked down the aisle, there staring me in the face was the latest Time magazine. The date was February 18, 2002. The cover story: “The New Thinking on Breast Cancer” with the “smartest drugs, gentlest treatments and the latest on mammograms.” I grabbed it off the shelf as if it were a lifeline being thrown out to me. It was there that I first read of a new technique called a “sentinel node biopsy.” This technique negated the need for a woman’s lymph nodes to be stripped from the armpit and arm which often led to multiple problems.

In the books about cancer that I devoured, I learned the phrase, “survival team.” For me this phrase meant everything and I came to have a profound appreciation for every person assigned to my treatment including doctors, technicians, nurses and even the personnel who scheduled my appointments in such a way that I only had to show up. I never doubted that every person at that moment was doing every thing humanly possible to help me remain a survivor.

My next visit was to a surgeon. God’s hand was once again at work in the man who was to be my surgeon. Because I came armed with my newly acquired information, I asked him about a sentinel node biopsy. He told me that because it was not standard treatment in Amarillo, I would need to make an informed decision about having it done. He spoke highly of the procedure, but could not make the decision for me. Decision making is not my strength and I had a limited amount of time before the surgery which was to be a lumpectomy (my decision) to let him know about having the biopsy done.

With my head spinning and not knowing what to do, I found myself in my regular doctor’s office where we spent time discussing my options. Much to my relief she shared that only a few weeks before, she had attended a conference where my surgeon presented the sentinel node biopsy to other physicians and spoke very positively about the procedure. She was so reassuring about it that I was able to make the decision to have it done and it was a Godsend. Later in my Breast Cancer 101 group for new patients, I heard horror stories done by surgeons who had needlessly stripped the lymph nodes. Today the sentinel node biopsy is standard procedure everywhere.

After recovery from the surgery, I entered the world of radiology and once again added to my survival team. My radiation oncologist, the technicians, and the staff made it possible for my 35 treatments to go very well. Every day I left work at 1:15 and drove across town for my 1:40 treatment and then back to work. It was amazing how quickly those of us who had treatments at that time every day forged supportive friendships and celebrated when treatments ended for each of us. During that time I felt safe and cared for. When that time ended, just for a brief moment, I actually felt a moment of panic much like a baby bird being kicked out of the nest. By the way, I came away from there with a souvenir—4 tiny dot tattoos. I had always thought having a tat would be kind of fun and even though I got my wish my tattoos are strictly utilitarian, guiding the radiation technicians to make sure my body and the machine were lined up perfectly for each treatment. A butterfly would have been nice, but they weren’t willing to go that far!

The last step on my journey was to my medical oncologist. Thankfully, I didn’t require chemo, but for the next five years of medication and regular visits to his office, I felt safe once more. There I added not only Dr. Pruitt to my survival team but his nurse practitioner, Donna Ion, who was and will always be an angel to me and everyone who has the good fortune to be her patient.

Now after six years, I remain cancer free and I thank God for this blessing daily. Is it possible to go through the cancer experience without being profoundly affected? I don’t think so. During that time, I prayed that I could survive cancer at least long enough for my young grandsons to remember me. That was and still is very important to me. I worried about Jim and how this would affect him and the rest of our family. I suffered with a strong sense of loss of self. I was no longer the pre-cancer “me” but the new post cancer me is okay now, probably much stronger and more compassionate than before. I consider myself to be one of the lucky ones; I still think of cancer everyday, but I don’t dwell on it. I strive to never give the fear of its return control of my life today. I never have cried, “Why me??” Instead I steadfastly say, “Why not me?” How can I ask for more than has been given to so many of my friends who have been diagnosed with cancer or some other catastrophic illness? Planning for future life experiences has taken on a new meaning where I have to prioritize the important events and people in my life. I look back at that time and I am eternally grateful to realize how marvelously each step of my treatment and recovery came together. I have no doubt that I was given the gift of “A God Thing.”

It has been my pleasure to share my story. There are too many more to be told.
Here’s to the Race for the Cure.

Selected startling facts about cancer from the American Cancer Society: Cancer Facts and Figures 2007:

• Anyone can develop cancer.
• Since the risk of being diagnosed increases as individuals age, most cases occur in adults who are middle-aged or older.
• About 77% of cancers are diagnosed in persons 55 or older.
• In the U.S. men have a slightly less than 1 in 2 lifetime risk of developing cancer;
• For women the risk is a little more than 1 in 3.
• About 1,444,920 new cancer cases were expected to be diagnosed in 2007.
• In the U.S. cancer accounts for 1 out of ever 4 deaths.
• In Texas in 2007 an estimated 12,220 females would develop breast cancer.
• In the U.S. 178,480 women would develop breast cancer in 2007.

*These statistics came from The American Cancer Society’s website at
http://www.cancer.org/

My story is told in loving memory of my friends Janice Faulkner who led the way, sharing her strength and courage and Judy Jones Skidmore, who broke our hearts, when she was taken from us way too soon.