Story Photos
 Lloyd Smith of Longview chronicled his mother's battle with cancer, which she died from in her 90s. This picture shows Ruby Smith's hand held by the hand of her husband of 72 years, Elmer Smith. Photo courtesy of Lloyd.
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For the Life of Me: Honorable mention essays
Tuesday, November 18, 2008 3:13 PM PST
By The Daily News
Printable version
E-mail this articleThe Daily News wanted to hear from people dealing with cancer, in their own words. Thirty-seven people responded to our contest, “For the Life of Me,” with essays describing what it is like to live with cancer. They represent just a fraction of the thousands of our neighbors, relatives and friends who battle this disease.
From 2003 to 2007, 3,064 cases of the top five cancers were diagnosed and/or treated at St. John Medical Center, according to Rhonda Wrolson of the cancer registry at the Lower Columbia Regional Cancer Center in Longview.
Those numbers represent residents of Cowlitz, Columbia, Clatsop, Pacific and Wahkiakum counties, although more residents may have been diagnosed and treated at other hospitals.
Sunday, we printed the top four essays evaluated by Ruth Melvin, manager of the Columbia Regional Breast Center in Longview, feature editor Cathy Zimmerman, and Marianne Chambers, online marketing manager at The Daily News.
Related links:
The Fighter: Lorie Hutton whips cancer three times, faces fourth bout at 79 (Nov. 18)
Read the Winning Essays
Trusting in the Great Physician
By Lila Tallbut
When I discovered a lump in my breast on January 27, 2007, my life completely. It was a moment that took my breath away, and I knew then and there that it was cancer. After a flurry of tests, I was officially diagnosed on February 14, Valentine’s Day. Thus began an incredible journey.
Surgery was followed by chemotherapy, then radiation. Most of 2007 was focused on getting through treatment, dealing with side effects, healing, and eventually arriving on the other side of this cancer.
I believed I had done just that, until May of this year when I felt another lump, this one under my arm.
The thought of cancer coming back sent me into a tailspin. I considered many things that I thought this lump could be from, not wanting to believe it was bad. But I finally decided to get it evaluated. Sure enough, the cancer was back and had spread to a few other places. So here I am again, still on this amazing journey that will last for much longer than I expected.
What makes this cancer journey “incredible and amazing” is all the wonderful things that happen along the way. No, it’s not a trip I would ever choose to take. But I wouldn’t trade for anything the personal growth in my faith, the knowledge I’ve gained, the people I’ve encountered, or the love I’ve experienced.
We don’t have a choice in some things. But we do have a choice in how we deal with it.
Part of getting through this has been to educate myself about breast cancer. I’ve learned that no two cancers are alike and breast cancer itself has many faces.
The type I have is referred to as “triple negative” breast cancer, which means the tumor tested negative for the three receptors known to fuel most breast cancers; progesterone receptors, estrogen receptors, and human epidermal growth factor 2 (HER2). The most successful drugs for breast cancer target these receptors. But when the receptors aren’t there, those drugs are ineffective. In other words, I have fewer weapons in my arsenal to fight this triple negative cancer.
Depending on the stage of its diagnosis, triple negative breast cancer can be quite aggressive and more likely to spread than other subtypes.
In June of this year I entered into a clinical trial of a drug called BSI-201. Twice a week for four months I have driven to Northwest Cancer Specialists in Salmon Creek (Vancouver) to receive the drug, along with two other chemotherapy drugs. So far, the drug has proven to be effective in my case. I hope it will bring promise to others with triple negative metastatic breast cancer.
I made up my mind in 2007, when the cancer first showed up, that I was not going to look or act like a sick person, partly because of my stubbornness not to give in to the disease.
I have continued working as an administrative assistant at Child and Adolescent Clinic and doing as many other activities as I can. But a change in looks and physical stamina are unavoidable with the powerful side effects of chemotherapy.
So how do I get up everyday, tend to business, go to work, and take care of my family while living with cancer?
The difference for me has been my relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ. Dealing with cancer can be terrifying and uncertain, but because of my faith in God, fear doesn’t overwhelm me.
I am unsure about what is next for me regarding my health, but I am totally certain that I am held firmly and lovingly in God’s capable hands. I may not have much physical energy at times, but I am overflowing with a hope that comes from trusting God.
Accepting the circumstances has been an important part of coping, but I am so very thankful that God, not the circumstances, is the source of the joy that marks my days, a joy that continues to thread its way through the journey.
Cancer has caused me to think about mortality and eternal things so much more.
I’m more thankful for every day I can get up, go to work, be with my family and friends, and play with my grandchildren. It has caused me to loosen my grip on the things of this world and hold fast to the matchless, unconditional love of God, and the love and commitment of my precious family and friends.
Even though I have put my physical body in the hands of my doctors and I rely on their knowledge and skill, I realize they are limited by their humanness. There is only so much they can do for me, so my trust is in the Great Physician who, ultimately, is my Healer.
While I receive chemotherapy, I complement it with my own “prayer therapy,” my source of comfort and healing. The promises in the Bible that tell of God’s healing grace, mercy, and salvation are a constant supply of strength and encouragement.
Another amazing thing has been to watch how my experience with cancer has impacted the lives of the people around me. Walking through this experience is much more about the others in my life than it is about me. Cancer has given me a unique chance to share my testimony. I count that opportunity to be a rich blessing and the way in which I conquer this disease.
The Magic Paw
By Bill White of Kalama
I was diagnosed in 1999 with malignant melanoma and as thought to have gotten it all then. It came back at stage four in early 2002, under the right arm. In level three lymph nodes, they removed 10 and nine had cancer, not a good thing.
After my seventh surgery, Dr. (Dane) Moseson took me into a small exam room for my seven-day check up and told me I was in dire straits. He said he had seen hundreds of these cases and if there was anything in life I had not done, I should think about doing it now.
Chemo did not work, so they radiated me and did all they could do. I pointed to my head and told him if anyone could lick this, I could. He wished me good luck and I went home.
I decided right then that I could take an active part in my life or an inactive part in my death. So began my fight and my eventual victory over a cancer that takes most people
I decided I would try to help as many people as I could to get through their own adversity with attitude and encouragement from someone who had been there. I made it my mission to council the old and the terrified about attitude, expanding their horizons, and living life in a better way. Not necessarily a faster way, and not treating it like a race.
I actually will take credit for coining the phrase, “I have cancer, it doesn’t have me,” over six years ago. I’ve taken calls at 3 in the morning and 3 in the afternoon, from those with this terrible disease and from their family members, all needing some kind of help, any help, in their fight.
Grace Reade, for former food columnist for The Daily News, became a very close friend during her battle with pancreatic cancer from 2004 to March, 2006.
I will tell you something now that no one knows. I went to visit Grace at Hospice, on the Wednesday before she passed. I walked down the hall and saw her whole family there and said, “I’m here to see Grace.”
They asked who I was, and explained to me she was heavily sedated and probably would not know me, but go ahead and go in. I have always had what I consider my magic paw (fat right arm) from lymphadema. I sat down next to Grace’s bed and reached out and held her hand softly.
I asked her if she knew who I was. Without opening her eyes or moving, she said, “Piss off Bill, I knew it was you.”
As you might have guessed this rather stunned those watching. Grace smiled, opened her eyes and looked at me, and told me she knew I would come.
I visited her for about a half hour and told her I was going since her family needed time with her. Two of her three children and their spouses had come from Great Britain to be with her.
She thanked me for coming; that was the last time I saw her.
I’ve always said I am just an ordinary man capable of extraordinary things. I have been accused of being an angel, which those who know me will say is the farthest thing from the truth.
I know that these situations are much harder on those who have to stand by and watch and can do nothing. As a survivor, I owe it to those that are the afflicted (I don’t call us victims, never want to be a victim), to help them in any way I can, to survive as long as they can.
It is our duty to share what got us through. By doing this, we help ourselves get even farther down the road to a longer life, but most importantly, we help those that need it the most.
If my story helps just one person get through the worst battle anyone can fight, then I can leave this world knowing I was a better man and will leave that indelible mark all of us hope to leave.
I want my family and all those who know me in the community, to know that I am very grateful for the extra time I have been given, and that I have used it wisely.
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