Major life issues can often initiate change. Bob and I decided to make a major one. We sold the large home in which we raised our family. We were already retired from our jobs in the Chicago area. With two daughters and the majority of our grandkids in Northern California, we moved across the country to Auburn, CA. We chose Auburn for its abundant hiking trails, fishing and canoeing locales and beautiful terrain as well as its proximity to our daughters. Prior to moving, we researched all the major northern California Cancer Centers with gynecological oncologists. We then visited and interviewed two. As a result, UC Davis and its gynecological oncologists, became our center of choice.
A few months after moving, I was diagnosed with a second occurrence. My CA 125 had risen to 75. I got a PET scan. Based on those results, I had a second surgery that dropped it to 15. My tumor tissue was sent to a lab to be tested for its vulnerability to various common chemo drugs. Guided by the results of these tests and his experience, my oncologist developed the plan of 6 rounds of chemo-therapy that were to be 3 weeks apart. Each round consisted of Cisplatin, Gemsar and Doxil on day 1, followed by another dose of Gemsar and Doxil on day 8. After the first round was completed, I developed neutrapenic fever and was hospitalized for 10 days. Ultimately, I received all 6 rounds and had neutrapenic fever one more time. I was finished with chemo in January 2004.
My remission lasted more than three years. During this time, my goal was to build strength and endurance. I took up Pilates and joined a hiking group of women all over 60 years old. We could do weekly hikes of 5-10 miles with little difficulty.
My cancer returned for a third time this spring. My pelvic exam was abnormal and my CA 125 was rising. I got another PET scan and elected to forego a third surgery. We tried a conservative approach first by taking two months of Tamoxifen and one month of Arimidex. My CA 125 continued to rise and by early June, it was 258. Since June, I have received 3 doses of Doxil and my CA 125 has dropped down into the normal range.
The Doxil has broken down my skin, causing significant burning rashes that blister and then peel. Heat and friction cause the rashes and blisters to form, so you have to avoid any friction type of activities. Because of the skin issues, I have temporarily stopped walking or hiking, but I’m ready and waiting for the opportunity to start back again. I don’t know how long I will be on this drug, but I love the CA 125 results.
My Mother’s Story - Mary
This is not story, but my mother’s story. Less than one week after her 59th birthday she received the diagnosis of Stage IV Ovarian cancer. The CT Scan showed metastasis to the liver, lungs and kidneys. Initially we were told to take her home and make her comfortable; they gave her three months at the most.
I requested that she be seen by my gynecologist and he scheduled surgery for debulking of the tumor. The surgery was essentially open and close. The tumor was too large and too hard. They were unable to visualize either of her ovaries and the tumor had completely encapsulated the bowel. I choose at this point to tell my mother that they had gone ahead and done a hysterectomy and some follow-up chemo would still be needed. Thankfully, all of her doctors agreed to this approach.
The plan was to do three rounds of chemo, repeat the CT Scan, and then make the decision of whether or not to tell her the truth. The CT Scan three months later showed that the tumor was shrinking and that chemo would continue. My mother received chemotherapy for almost three years. The first set of drugs were very hard on her, but she truly believed that she was going to win this battle. She received Taxol as her second drug, for just over two years, and although she lost her hair, side effects were minimal.
It was some time in the third year that my mother found out that I lied to her. Although she was furious with me, she finally agreed with me that she would have refused all treatment if she knew how poor her prognosis was. My mother managed to gain almost 80 pounds while she was receiving her chemotherapy, again I think this was because I told her with the new drugs for nausea it was impossible for her to become sick.
It is coming up on her 15th anniversary of her diagnosis and I am happy to say that although she hasn’t seen a doctor in 12 years, she is still alive and kicking. My mother truly believed that if you had cancer and they opened you for surgery, it would spread everywhere. The power of the mind is a terrible thing to waste. I am a nurse and I know that patients have the right to know the truth, however it may not necessarily be right for everyone. I am thankful that the health care professionals that took care of my mother respected my wishes and went along with the "little white lies." Today, my mother still tries to tell me what to do and how to do it; I can’t imagine how much I would have missed it.
I just wanted to tell her story. There is always hope for everyone. Positive thoughts and lots of prayers are what my mother truly believes cured her. As I health care professional, I could not even begin to argue this point. Statistically, she never had a chance. While visiting my father in the hospital, my mother ran into her oncologist. He just looked at her and said, you are a miracle.
She Saved My Life: Cancer and Motherhood - Hillary
This is my journal recording the events leading up to, during, and (hopefully) after my diagnosis of Clear Cell Ovarian Cancer during the birth of my daughter.
Jennifer’s Story - Iowa
Hello, my name is Jennifer. I am 33 years old and this is my story.
In January of 1992, I was a senior in high school, had a boyfriend, and loved being with my best friend (whom I STILL am with, to this day!) but was diagnosed with a stage 1-B complex dysgerminoma of the left ovary. (I initially thought I was pregnant.) I had been experiencing the GI problems, spotting, and noticed my pants seemed to be getting tighter. I took a pregnancy test and it said "positive".
I was scared and didn’t know what to do, and didn’t want my parents to know. I went to Planned Parenthood, where they confirmed it with a vaginal exam, and a UA. They had stated I was at least 18-19 weeks pregnant, and that if I chose to abort, they couldn’t do it, but could refer me to a clinic in Omaha. I wanted another opinion, and decided to go to Broadlawns (state hospital). Again, a positive on the UA AND a blood draw, however, no U/S was done. I was terrified and thought the only solution to this dilemma was to take the trip to Omaha.
After trying to come up with nearly $500, my boyfriend and I made the journey. After groggily waking after anesthesia, I was told I didn’t have anything in my uterus as far as a fetus. I thought, "What?! Do I have an alien in there or what?" (you know how people think after waking after surgery, and then they are told THAT!)
So, after that waste of time, their rudeness, and them keeping my cash, my boyfriend and I made the journey back home, with more questions than answers.
I can’t really remember the exact time line of the events now, but it seems like the next few days or so, progressed quite quickly.
I remember shamefully telling my parents of my recent mishaps, and we immediately went to our family doctor. With one quick vaginal exam, he exclaimed, "That’s not in your uterus sweetheart, it’s on your ovary!" By now I was so confused and angry.
Within the week, I was scheduled for an U/S and Cat Scan, however, it seems like I ended up in emergency surgery fairly quickly, from being in so much pain. They initially didn’t know what they were going to find. Upon completion of surgery, they had done over 40 biopsies, obtained several cytology washings, removed the left ovary/tube contained in a mass measuring 13x15 cm, weighing 865 grams (the size of a small cantaloupe) did extensive abdominal exploration, removal of appendix, and aspirated the right ovary. The right ovary had such questionable cells, they sent them to Mayo Clinic for further testing.
I ended up having three rounds of chemotherapy, (1 week at a time as an inpatient)
losing my hair, losing a good 25 pounds, questioning my standing in life, and always feeling isolated and embarrassed from being so sick, bald and un-healthy looking. I can still remember my dad (bless his soul!) asking sheepishly one day if I wanted him to just shave my head. If THAT wasn’t a bonding moment......!
I required a tutor to get through high school my senior year, due to the time in the year, being in pain and just to sick to even get outside. (white cells are almost non-existent during chemo rounds)
Nearly after a year of everything, I went to have my yearly pap, and was told my pap was abnormal. (I just kept thinking "WHY ME?!") I had the Cryo procedure done, and I guess it did the trick.
I have had no further complications, except for the fact that I can’t seem to get pregnant. My husband and I have sought help from a fertility specialist, and the doctor has assured us that the chemo drugs or loss of "one side" shouldn’t be the problem, but I can’t help but wonder if this whole ordeal really did something to hinder our chances of having a family.
Thank you for letting me share my story. I know now, "WHY ME"- Maybe just to share my story with even one person, and be an advocate of sorts for this silent dilemma.
HOW A WHISPER BECOMES A SHOUT!
This is the story of a survivor. Even from day one, Shirley Nicodem can clearly be hailed a survivor. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer five months ago. She has undergone a total hysterectomy and the removal of lymph nodes followed by chemotherapy. And of course she is still dealing with the uncertainty of it all. But she is a Survivor!
I am told that Ovarian Cancer is the cancer that whispers. It speaks to you in the subtle tones of whispers until you can no longer deny its beckoning for your attention. This is the way it entered Shirley’s life and it seems the lives of so many other women. But Shirley is one woman who is determined to turn the whisper into a shout! Her road thus far has been a difficult one. She has been through a whole gamut of emotions and still at times re-visits them. She was not just afraid when confronted with this disease, she was petrified. Who wouldn’t be? She cries. She wonders why this happened. She feels depressed. These are all perfectly normal reactions to this disease. The easy thing to do is to let those negative emotions and thoughts take up residence in your body along with the cancer. Oh how happy the disease would be to have misery as its company.
Shirley, although weak from her treatments and sometimes weak in her own thoughts only allows that negativity a short moment of her time. She takes each new day and musters up the strength to push away the negative and pick herself up and think positively. As very difficult as this is, she knows that this is a new day and she focuses on making it a happy and productive one. In the book of Proverbs 23:7 it says, “As he thinks within himself, so he is.” Our minds are very powerful instruments, ones which can be used for us or against us. Shirley chooses to use her mind and direct it on a positive course. Being a survivor doesn’t begin when the doctor says you are cured. It begins from the very first faint whisper. It begins from within. It is implemented when you take your natural abilities of survivorship and put them into action with positive thoughts and not bury them with depression and dread. It is not easy by any means; most worthwhile things in life are not. Shirley, an example of a woman when faced with the daunting task of battling a disease like ovarian cancer, has risen to the occasion and allowed herself to be the voice that this “cancer of silence” needs in order to be heard. Shirley is taking the “whispers” of ovarian cancer that turned her life upside down and giving them a shouting voice to warn others. She is volunteering for the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition in Boca Raton, Florida. She hands out pamphlets to every woman she can. She even uses her work as an opportunity to spread the word. She sells items on eBay and packs a pamphlet into every order. She designs and creates beautiful bracelets which she sells to benefit this cause. Her mission is to take every opportunity to pass the word along. She knows first hand the urgent need to spread the word to everyone – man or woman. She wants the whispers to be heard loud and clear.
Shirley is not waiting for an all clear by her doctor to begin this crusade. She is taking every precious day and making the best and greatest use of it. Although physically weak, her voice is powerfully strong. Helping others through her situation is really an important thing to do for others and herself. According to her, she believes that “with a positive attitude, prayer, meditation, love and anything that makes her feel calm and centered with this journey in her life” she will beat this. I for one believe she will.
Shirley has been surrounded by the love and support of her partner, Nancy Mercede and all of her family and friends. All those who support her should be commended for the strength they have given her which has helped her to build, sustain and share her strength with others. Support, love and hope for those dealing with cancer are gifts of immeasurable value for survivors. As a member of her family, I am more than proud and impressed with her mental strength and the way she is committed to being a mighty voice for Ovarian Cancer and …………………..for turning a Whisper into a SHOUT!
Author: Fran Mercede, sister-in-law
Mari - Stage IIIC
REWIND: Year: 2002. Age: Twenty – two. Ovarian Cancer – Stage IIIC. As I awoke from my long surgery, the look on my sister and parent’s face said everything. It was malignant. I, Mari, was diagnosed with the big "C" at the young age of 22!! I had no idea what was in store for me at that moment; however, I will never forget the look in their eyes. Somehow I never did ask "why me?" Rather I asked, "why not me?" They say a diagnosis will forever change you. It’s true. After many rounds of chemotherapy, profuse vomiting, experiencing insomnia, and not having enough energy to even make my bed, I realized more about my life than ever before. I learned that it was my best friend, my sister who would always be there for me…She even shaved her head bald to deter people from looking at me! I learned it was okay for me to re-enter grad school with little energy and lack of hair on my head --- all it took was a ton of motivation – much like life. The appearances we show have little to do with what is inside each of us. I learned it isn’t what the statistics read, rather the support and love written in cards and spoken over the phone! Overall, through this entire process I have learned I would NEVER change any of the experiences I have been through; rather I’d like to continue to share my stories and hope to inspire others to continue to believe.
TODAY: Year: 2006. Age: Twenty-six. Ovarian Cancer SURVIVOR!!! As I sit here in my newly purchased home, I am forever grateful of my survivorship and future living cancer-free. Never give up the hope and never give up the dream. I love my motto, "GO BIG or GO HOME!"
A Story of Hope - Randi - September, 2004
A little more than 5 years ago, my then 59 year old mother (who lives
in the Philadelphia area) was diagnosed with Stage 3 OVCA. As the story often is, it was a complete shock. She was the picture of health, in unbelievableshape: She was never sick. She visited her gynecologist once per year like clockwork. We have virtually no cancer in the family. Her mother - my grandmother - in her then late 80s - was not only in good health, but living on her own (and driving still!). In fact, up until that point, my mother was still jogging almost 6 miles per day. I’m sure you have heard this story many times.
When I look back on those first few weeks after diagnosis, they are of
course all a bad blur. There is one thing, however, that I do remember. I would spend hours, most during the late night, searching this website and others like it -- not necessarily for medical information, or treatment options or support, but for one thing: I wanted to find a woman who had been EXACTLY in my mom’s situation. A woman who was her age, had a similar health history, was diagnosed with the same stage and type OVCA, went through the exact protocol my mom was then planning to go through and was doing absolutely fine years later. (How naive I was . . . .) I guess I was really looking or a story of hope. I wanted to know there was at least one woman out there that had made it through this nightmare.
I promised myself that if my mom made it through all of it, I would share her story to give others the hope I was looking for at that time. Well, 5 years later, after surgery and several rounds of chemo, my mom looks great and feels great. She has traveled all around the world since that time, watched the birth of two additional grandchildren, continues to work, go to the orchestra and live as completely a normal life as possible. As of her most recent appointment last week, her CT scan was clean, her CA125 numbers were low and her internal exam was negative.
Of course, we do not know what will be next month, next week or
tomorrow; of course, she has many, many moments of fear and is the
furthest thing from cavalier about her future, but the fact that she is doing this well is so remarkable. And so appreciated.
I wish I knew then of more stories (at least one!) like that of my mom’s when I first learned of her illness. I was so "clueless," so scared, so overwhelmed, and knowing there were women out there like my mom who were living and enjoying life 5 years later would have meant so much to me.
Randi can be contacted at garnick@comcast.net.
Ovarian Sarcoma - Diane, New Jersey - May, 2004
While doing the dishes in late July of 1994, I leaned against the sink and something in my pelvic region just did not feel right. I laid down on my bed and felt my stomach. That was when I could feel a mass. I wasn’t too concerned since, in 1989 while I was pregnant, I had a dermoid cyst removed along with my left ovary and this feeling was similar to that. I knew I had to get in to see the gynecologist right away. The doctor wasn’t too concerned because he was convinced it was the same thing that I had before so they scheduled my surgery for the first week in September. He said they would try to salvage whatever they could of my ovary since I still wanted more children. About a week later, in early August, I began to feel "sick". I became very concerned about this now since my symptoms changed from the last time I had a cyst. I felt tired all the time and I realized that I developed a fever. The fever stayed consistently around 100. I had no other symptoms for the fever such as a cold, and I was concerned about it. I called my doctor about a week later since the fever was still present. They put me on antibiotics thinking that I had an infection. This did not help at all. Towards the end of August, about a week prior to my surgery, the fever was still there and now I was having trouble moving my bowels. I had to grip the edge of the counter because of the excruciating pain that I was experiencing. My doctor told me that the dermoid cyst was probably pressing down on my intestines and causing this problem. I was still running a fever and still no one seemed concerned about that. I had the feeling that something was very wrong even though the doctor was reassuring me that my CA-125 came back normal and they insisted the fever wasn’t a problem.
The day of my surgery arrived (the first week of September) and still I had my fever. As they were prepping me for surgery, the operating room staff took my temperature and it was at 101. Of course, this called off the surgery due to the fact that I could go into septic shock if they proceeded. Suddenly, every one was now concerned about my fever. The Infectious Disease Department was called in. I went through MANY tests to determine the "cause" of the fever. It was finally decided that whatever was going on my in pelvis was the cause of the fever. The Infectious Disease Department said surgery should be scheduled ASAP!
They finally scheduled the next surgery for the last week in September (the day after my daughter’s 5th birthday). As the operating room staff prepped me this time for surgery, they added high dose antibiotics to protect me during the surgery since I had the fever. By this time, I went from 130 pounds down to 98 lbs.
When I came out of surgery, I just knew that something was wrong. A few minutes after I woke up, the doctor and his staff talked to me. They said it was very bad and that they had to call a surgical gyn oncologist to help assist with the surgery by telephone. They had to remove my remaining ovary, fallopian tube, uterus, cervix, omentum and numerous lymph nodes up into my diaphragm. They said that the lymph nodes were very enlarged and did not look good to them. I think I was in shock at the time because I just nodded my head and said nothing. That night one of the doctors who was present for the surgery came into my hospital room to speak to my husband and me. He told us that I would be lucky if I survived two years since everything looked so bad. It was the absolute worst moment of my life. My dear friend who is a childhood cancer survivor was there at the time and she helped my husband and me from falling apart. All I kept thinking was that my daughter would grow up without a mom and that she would be the one who suffered from all of this.
A couple of days later, my husband was with me in the hospital room. He gave me a really cute bear and a balloon from my daughter. I remember hearing the nurses down at the Nurses Station "celebrating". I was wondering what was going on. A few seconds later, I found out. My phone rang and it was the doctor who performed the surgery. He said that they were amazed that ALL the lymph nodes were negative....they were only reactive due to what was happening inside of me. The pathologist felt that the cancer was confined to just my ovary, but that they were going to send the specimen to a hospital in Washington, D.C. for confirmation. The pathologist said I had a very rare tumor. At that time they told me that I had a mesenchymal tumor of the ovary presenting with a mature dermoid cyst.
During the course of all my second and third and even fourth opinions, my tumor was classified as "ovarian sarcoma" stage 1-C. It was a C because the tumor broke apart on its way to pathology. I had trouble with finding any information on ovarian sarcoma since this is such a rare disease of the ovary. Out of my four "second" opinions, one doctor recommended doing nothing unless the cancer came back and the other three recommended eight cycles of Cisplatin in case any cancer cells were left behind. My deciding factor in going ahead with the chemotherapy was a comment from two doctors, one being my present gyn oncologist. One doctor told me that if the cancer came back, my chances at a cure would not be as great at that time and that I should definitely go ahead with the chemotherapy because of this. My present gyn oncologist told me that if it were him or a member of his family, he could not just "sit back and wait" to see if it would come back. I think that statement was the one that made me decide to go ahead with it.
It has now been 9-1/2 years since my surgery (September of 1994) and 9 years since the end of my chemotherapy (April of 1995).
I do believe that early detection is the single most important chance for a cure of this disease. This is the disease that "whispers" and women must listen and seek help immediately if they don’t feel right. If you doctor doesn’t listen, go to one who will. I would definitely recommend seeking out a gyn oncologist if there is any question of cancer. I was fortunate that I had a great gyn oncologist and nurses who helped me through my chemotherapy. They listened to me and my concerns, and I think that makes all the difference in your treatment process.A
Journey to Motherhood - Ramona - September, 2001
When I held him for the first time I knew then and there that I wanted to be a mother of four and create beautiful beings just as my sister had. Ten fingers ten toes they were all there I knew from the instant my sister said she was to be a mother that her baby would be a boy with blue eyes and light brown hair. I was never wrong my dream had told me so.
My husband and I decided to have a family right after we were married we tried for two years before we sought the help of a Doctor. Unfortunately after those two years nothing had come up, so we tried with aid of fertility pills, and the thought that I had a tumor in my pituitary gland, still nothing. In May of 1997 I was told nothing more could be done for me in the City of Sierra Vista that I would have to travel to Tucson to seek the aid of a fertility specialist at my own cost. I soon started noticing a increase in appetite but loss of weight, I noticed a hernia type lump in my abdomen, and fatigue I could not seem to get enough rest. I was forever sleeping. After much debate about being able to afford the aid of a specialist we decided to wait. I also knew deep inside that there was something terribly wrong. But the longing to bear and feel life with in me was more than I could bear. After two months of waiting we decided to go to the fertility specialist to get an opinion only. After the examination the Doctor told me that I had cysts, if the birth control pills did not make them disappear he would have to operate, needless to say that is what ended up happening. The day of the surgery came about I did not feel nervous or uneasy, but I did have a feeling of dread call it, woman’s intuition. I awoke not being able to move as much as I thought I would. In the background I could hear the nurses speaking in a hushed tone " she is so young" I knew they were speaking of me. As I was placed in my room, I could hear my family coming in and out and speaking to me telling me everything was going to be okay, none of us knew what the news would be. I remember looking at my husband, asking him how the surgery had gone, only to be answered with sad looking eyes and a response I did not want to hear " your ovary was removed it was the size of an eggplant they tried to save it but, he called a specialist in and he said it needed to be removed." I lay there numb not knowing what to feel in my mind the feeling of motherhood slowly slipped away from me.
My hospital stay was long I was bleeding internally and had to have a blood transfusion and maybe another surgery to stop the bleeding but fortunately the transfusion did the job. A week later, as we walked down the narrow hallways to the doctor’s office I knew I was bracing myself for something unknown. I could still remember the doctors words and the expression he wore as if it were yesterday, " there is no easy way to say this, so I am just going to say it. It was a tumor, I am referring you to the cancer specialist downstairs." All I could do was sit there and cry but the reality still had not hit me. As we walked out to the elevators again I stopped to cry, my husband numb with shock. As we made it downstairs I called my mother, that is when reality hit me "mom I have cancer the doctor told me so, why else would he refer me to a cancer specialist." I could hear the disbelief in my mothers voice but her strength and reassurance helped me make it through my visit with the oncologist. A month later another surgery would follow with some good news no sign of spreading, but chemotherapy would still have to be administered. Four months of agonizing poking and probing and being sick to the point where getting out of bed for three days was a big task for me, my legs being of no use, only to take me to the restroom and back to bed. But the biggest test was the loss of my hair the length of my hair was to my waist. What made it especially difficult was that I had to go to work with a hat. The last day of chemo finally arrived I was happy knowing that I would not be hurting any more.
Months past and my quest to have children still had not ceased, if anything I was more determined. I was cut short when I had to go through another surgery because they had found cysts on my right ovary thankfully it was all good news I was told I could still have children. A month after the surgery I was walking into the office at work and I could feel a change in my body, my jeans did not feel the same, and that is when it hit me. I knew I was pregnant there was no doubt in my mind. I took a test to confirm my suspicions I knew my husband would be happy what a terrific anniversary gift this would be. I placed baby clothes and put the results right in the middle of the box and wrapped it up with paper that was made for a baby gift. At our family reunion, which was the day of our anniversary I handed him the box. He cried when he realized what the stick represented he could not be more happier. A month later the doctor performed a sonogram to take a look and see just how far along I was when he told us to look at the screen " you see your baby, there is his heart beat and over here is another heart beat, congratulations your are having twins." I never heard such sweet news not only was I blessed with bearing a child but I was blessed with bearing two. From then on I knew it was a boy and a girl, my dreams confirmed it.
The day my babies were born was perfect I went through 12 hours of labor before they decided to do a c-section unfortunately not all went well the medication to numb me did not take effect the way it should have so I felt almost everything that was being done to me. But when I heard that first cry all the pain was forgotten and when I saw the beautiful pink bundle I thought I must have been in heaven. The second cry was even more warming than the first, the sweetest song that I’ve ever heard. Rigoberto Alejandro was born on January 4, 1999 he weighed 5 pounds 9 ounces and Kianna Marie was also born on January 4, 1999 she weighted 5 pounds 10 ounces. I could not have asked for anything more, my world was perfect. Although leaving them after 6 weeks to continue working was hard but it also made my day go by faster knowing what awaited me when I came home.
Eight months after the babies were born I went to the doctor complaining of pain on the right side. Many tests were performed only to reveal nothing. I went to my GYN doctor and there he found a mass that seemed to be connected to my ovary. I cried, not just for me mostly because of the little lives that this dreadful disease would affect. That was just the first day of my ongoing nightmare. I had to put up a fight with my insurance company because they would not cover the oncologist that I had been seeing, for one reason or another they had dropped them from our network. I had no choice but to see another doctor, meanwhile my oncologist was putting up a fight for me with the insurance company taking a lot of his time to make the necessary phone calls just so that I could continue seeing him. I went to see the oncologist that was networked with our insurance company. I received a terrible bedside manner from the doctor, he could not understand why I was crying after the examination he performed revealed nothing. In his words " I don’t understand what you are upset about, worst case scenario is the cancer is back, best case scenario it could have gone away, but I am through talking with you it only seems I dig myself into a deeper hole." He thought I should be overjoyed that nothing was found I would have liked to believe a miracle had happened and the mass disappeared, but deep in my heart I knew something was there.
At work I had to request time off that I did not have but was granted anyway due to the fact that I needed surgery. Finally some shred of light shone through, my uncle who is an attorney got the insurance to approve my surgery with the oncologist that I had from the beginning. The day of my surgery I was called in for prepping when the doctor walked in and told me to get dressed and get out of there. The pre-operative test showed I was pregnant. As the shock wore off, we went out and celebrated. But our celebration was cut short when I miscarried at work.
I knew my supervisors at work were up to something because they were being insensitive to my situation. The doctor decided it would be time to go forth with the procedure of removing the mass. I again had to request special permission for time off work. Unfortunately I was let go from my job due to insufficient sick leave. Although they expected me to just walk away I did not. I turned around and fought them, now I was fighting two battles. The surgery revealed a reoccurrence of the cancer. I again would have to endure months of chemotherapy. I had ports put in my chest and in my abdomen so that the chemo was administered through both. The process took about four to five hours every three weeks. Good news did come my way many people from my workplace and within the judicial system objected to the way I was let go, the presiding judge decided to give me my job back. That was one battle won.
A day before my sixth and last treatment was to be administered I found out I was pregnant again. I was happy and I knew I had proven all the doctors wrong that it was possible to get pregnant with my type of treatments. During the sixth month of my pregnancy I felt pain on my right side, I also passed a kidney stone. I went to my doctor and showed him the stone, He then ordered some more tests. After my sonogram was preformed I was told to make and appointment for an MRI, warning signs went off within me. Although I could say it is not easy to fit in the MRI machine when you are 7 months pregnant.
On my visit back to my oncologist he told me that I had two huge masses on my adrenal glands and that it seemed inoperable. I was devastated would my children be old enough to remember me if I died. My biggest test of faith came here although we always ask ourselves why and ask why me? I gave in and told myself this was how it was meant to be I put myself in God’s hands and prayed that this would not be passed on to my baby.
Ramon Alberto was born on the 28th of November 2001 by c-section he weighed six pounds seven ounces, again I was in heaven the sweet smell of my newborn baby brought me to sheer ectasy. The doctor performed a hysterectomy he did not want me to have any more children, not to mention that the hormones my body gave fueled the cancer. He also removed another mass from my abdomen after the birth. I had a little trouble with my recovery but in the end all went well.
Three weeks following the birth of my son, I went in for major surgery. I was referred to a transplant specialist out of Phoenix who performed the procedure. I could remember waking up in the operating room with a tube down my throat not being able to breath well. As I was rolled into the Intensive Care Unit I could feel the pain that racked my whole body with every movement they made. I had tubes coming out of my nose, neck arms and abdomen. 70% of my liver was removed my right adrenal gland was removed a mass behind my spleen was removed and my gallbladder was removed and several tiny masses from my abdomen were removed.
I am currently going through chemotherapy every Thursday, so far it has been a tough road I have a twelve inch scar to remind me everyday of the terrible pain I have so far endured but I also have two beautiful scars that remind me everyday of the wonderful things that have come about. I will never forget the little life I lost and although the baby was not developed well enough it was still my baby. I had to be declared disabled, so in the end I lost my job anyway. Those at my job were wonderful in the end they held a benefit for me, as did my cousin. I have many people praying for me everyday. Do I believe I am going to die from this disease, yes, eventually I will but, not without putting up a battle after all I have three beautiful children to look after and teach them all about life. The lessons I have learned from all of this don’t take life for granted you never know when you will have a life altering experience. I treat everyday as if it were my last. I once thought I had my whole life ahead of me when I was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 20 I was proven very wrong. I also fear everyday of my life for my children, have I passed on this disease to my daughter? and are my sons in some way at risk also?. That is yet unknown but I hope to find the answer some day. My wishes are to see my children grow, to see my daughter have her first crush and her first heartbreak to be there when she walks down the isle in her white gown. To see my sons become good men but, most of all be there when they themselves become parents. Another goal of mine before I pass on is to receive my associate degree in administrative of justice and I won’t be giving up until then. To you my readers live life to the fullest and make everyday an accomplishment.
Beverly, Stage IIIC
Georgia
I could be the "poster girl" for "how you can have every symptom of ovarian cancer and be completely misdiagnosed." I never missed an annual gynecological exam and the symptoms and risk factors were never discussed with me. One-year prior to my diagnosis, I informed my doctor of several symptoms I had been experiencing. Unfortunately, they mimicked other medical conditions. Over the course of one year, I was diagnosed with irritable bowel syndrome, recurrent endometriosis, early menopause and extreme stress. Several doctors later, I was finally diagnosed with ovarian cancer. My cancer experience changed me as a person. I wondered how my experience could be turned into something good and started helping others. Gradually, my "valley of trouble was turned into a door of hope." I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but with each new day, I choose hope.
· Look for laughter every day.
· Find at least five things to be thankful for each day and you will be surprised how many others you will find.
· Find the magic in each day. The moments make up the sum of our days.
· Immerse yourself in the lives of others; you will be blessed.
· Pamper yourself and nourish your soul in ways that are unique to you.
· JOURNAL, JOURNAL, JOURNAL. This was most therapeutic and helped me to realize however I felt was OK.
· You are what you think. Surround yourself with positive, uplifting people and things. Pets are comforting.
Never underestimate the power of prayer. After all, I am a miracle. Always believe in miracles
Betsy, Stage I Minnesota
Ten and a half years ago, I was an active 17 year-old high school student. I was editor of the school’s newspaper, and captain of the girl’s swim team when I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I consider myself lucky…my father is a doctor, and my mother, remarkably observant.
When my abdomen began to distend (and after I assured my parents I could not be pregnant), I was taken to an OB/GYN. She confirmed there was no pregnancy, and I was diagnosed with a fluid-filled cyst on my right ovary and immediately scheduled for surgery. The following day, I went into the hospital for pre-operative lab work looking six months pregnant. Three days later, my GYN/ONC removed a 5.5 pound tumor the size of a volleyball from my right ovary, and omentum. My GYN/ONC knew that since my tumor was contained on my right ovary he would not have to perform a hysterectomy if all of my other biopsies came back negative for cancer. I was diagnosed with Stage I Immature Teratoma (a rare Germ Cell Tumor—Germ Cells primarily affect women ages 15-35). I went through four rounds of Cisplatnin, Bleomycin, and VP-16. I have a 95% cure rate, and have never had a recurrence. I have since married, and have gone on to have two wonderful, healthy children—with hopes to have more.
I feel that my experience with ovarian cancer proves that with early intervention, and early diagnosis, a complete recovery from the disease the "whispers" is possible. It is important that all women become aware of the signs and symptoms of ovarian cancer, their risk factors, and demand a rectovaginal exam every time they visit their gynecologist. If their risk factors are many, they should also demand a transvaginal ultrasound and CA125 blood test (although in my case, this would have been negative for cancer).
Ovarian cancer can affect ANY woman at ANY age. Do not let a doctor tell you that you are too young for ovarian cancer. If you are female, whether or not you still have your ovaries (primary peritoneal cancer affects women without ovaries), you are still at risk!
Together we must raise our whispers of ovarian cancer to a roar. Let your family, friends, neighbors and community know about ovarian cancer and the very silent way it is killing the women of our world.
DAILY SURVIVAL KIT FOR SERIOUS ILLNESS
by: Thomas L. McDermittToday I am going to try to live through this day only, and not dwell on or attempt to solve all my problems at once; just focus on the piece that is today. I can do something for several hours that would be difficult to even think about continuing for several months.
Just for today, I am willing to accept the possibility that there is a purpose to this suffering; that it can be a source of meaning and growth for myself and others, though I may not always recognize the ways. And it seems possible that this suffering will not be in vain, because of what may be some kind of existence beyond.
Just for today, let me remind myself that I am basically a worthwhile person, worth loving, despite my faults and limits. I deserve the efforts of others to help me through my illness.
Just for today, I want to be aware that it is all right to want too much from others at times. Illness brings out and intensifies the small child in all of us. And if I feel hurt when those who care for me cannot be there, it may help to remember that they have needs, frailties, and limitations of their own. A lack of response does not mean that they are personally rejecting me.
Today I may feel the need to complain a great deal; I may have little tolerance; I may cry; I may scream. That does not mean that I am less courageous or strong. All are ways of expressing anger over this mess, of rightly mourning my losses. Endurance itself is courage.
It is my life at stake now. So maybe today I can allow myself to be a little less concerned about the reactions or impressions of others. Maybe I can allow myself to feel a little less guilty or bad about what I did not accomplish or give. Perhaps today I can be a little more gentle toward myself.
Surviving this is all so difficult. At times it seems impossible--that I have had enough. Down the line I will know if and when I have had enough, when I cannot push the limits any further. I will have the right to choose to stop, without feeling that I am "giving up." but today I think I can deal with this illness. Sorrow runs very deep, but I think I can rise again.
Just for today, maybe I can give healing "the benefit of the doubt." The drugs are powerful; the natural healing capacity of my body is powerful. And who knows, perhaps there is healing power in my will to struggle, and in the collective love and will of others.
Just for today, perhaps I can take heart that we are all connected. And I may still have some things left to contribute to the family of man; some light to add to the light. Even now my endurance (however imperfect) is a gift, an inspiration for others in their struggles.
It seems reasonable that there is a season for everything, and a time for every purpose. Pain, weakness and exhaustion may distort my senses and spirit. Today, however, I can at least find some hope in nature’s way, if not in some master plan. The chances are fairly good, and it seems worthwhile to hope that I will have some cycle of wellness yet.