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Big Cancer Truck Strikes Again
David was on active duty in the Army during this time. When he was reassigned, I was nervous about leaving my support group and doctors. But I was feeling very healthy and my follow-up visits had been extended to every six months, so I was pretty confident that the cancer was gone for good. But during one of those follow-up appointments – January 1993, just 14 months after finishing my initial treatment – the Big Cancer Truck struck again. BAM! I had tumors in my chest, one pressing on my aorta. We were shocked because I didn’t look or feel sick. When they did the surgery and couldn’t get it all, I had to find new doctors near our new home. I was facing treatment again, and this time the prognosis was “very poor,” “extremely dismal.” With standard treatment, I might get a one-year remission. With a new experimental, radical treatment, I might get a “long-term” remission – maybe three years. Well, at 35 with children only 7 and 11, three years didn’t sound like “long-term” to me. But that’s what we were facing.
My treatment was to be high-dose chemotherapy, followed by a stem cell transplant of my own cells (called an autologous transplant). It was a very intense treatment that is sometimes called “stem cell rescue.” The high dose chemotherapy takes you to death’s door, wiping out the bone marrow along with – it was hoped – any cancer cells. Then you are “rescued” by the infusion of stem cells that rebuild the marrow. I was hospitalized several times and received blood and platelet transfusions. (THANK YOU to everyone who donates blood and platelets!) The day I got my cells back I went into an isolation room in the hospital. During this time I was very sick, I don’t remember the first few days. I couldn’t eat or even swallow a drop of water; I was fed intravenously. I lost all of my hair, my skin peeled, my nails came off. Now I can joke about it and call it my “Memphis Makeover” – it was like getting a chemical peel from the inside out! As soon as my bone marrow began to respond, it was like the lights came on, like waking up from a nightmare. I left the hospital and slowly continued to get better each day.
A blessing of time
It has now been 16 years since I first heard the words “you have cancer.” Time is one blessing that I have received, but that too many of my friends didn’t get.
When I was sick, I made up my mind that if got better I would try to make a difference for someone else with cancer. I knew I did not have what it takes to be a nurse (my all-time heroes), so I looked for other ways. I started participating in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. I organized teams, designed T-shirts and walked with my friends. I joined the Tennessee Breast Cancer Coalition and the National Breast Cancer Coalition. I had the opportunity to go to Advocacy Training Conferences in Washington, D.C., and participate in grassroots lobbying. It was very empowering to walk the halls of Congress and exercise my Constitutional right to petition the government about issues that were important to me such as funding for cancer research. My family and I got involved with the local American Cancer Society Relay for Life. I volunteered at Camp Bluebird as a counselor. I volunteered, and then worked a dream job for five years, at Gilda’s Club Nashville, a free support community for people with any kind of cancer and their friends and family. (What I would have given to have had their special programs for children for my own family!) Then came an opportunity to work at Vanderbilt’s Department of Cancer Biology in the laboratory of Al Reynolds. I get the chance to see first-hand the dedication and determination of these cancer researchers. Most recently, I have become a research advocate for the Vanderbilt SPORE (Specialized Program of Research Excellence) in breast cancer (see “Patients as Partners,” pages 22-23).
At first, I spent a lot of time doing all of these things because I thought I might not have much time left. But I’m still here, so I just keep showing up. Forrest Gump was right; you don’t know what you are gonna get. No matter what you get in life, the only time to live it is now. Today is the most important day of your life.
The most meaningful and important parts of my cancer journey are my traveling companions. I had unbelievable support and help from my husband, mother, children, family, friends, co-workers, doctors, nurses, researchers and even strangers. I have witnessed astonishing strength and wisdom from fellow cancer survivors. These teachers showed me that you can live – and live well – despite cancer. Some have also shown that it is possible to die with grace, dignity and even thankfulness. I am so grateful, so I try to keep showing up.
Editor’s note: The type of treatment Pam had, high-dose chemotherapy plus a stem cell transplant, was used extensively in the past to treat advanced breast cancer. However, the majority of women who received this therapy in the 1990s did so outside the setting of a clinical trial. In the late 1990s, studies were launched to evaluate the treatment, and the results of three reported in 2000 were mixed – two found it was no more effective than standard treatment and the third was discredited due to fraud and misconduct by the lead investigator. Today, studies are ongoing, but this approach remains experimental.
Learn more about Gilda’s Club and find a Clubhouse near you at www.gildasclub.org.
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