For the Life of Me: 'Listen to your body'
Tuesday, November 25, 2008 2:53 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.
Last week, we printed the top four essays evaluated by Ruth Melvin, manager of the Columbia Regional Breast Center in Longview; Daily News feature editor Cathy Zimmerman; and Marianne Chambers, online marketing manager at The Daily News. Nine other essays earned an honorable mention, including this one. More essays will run on upcoming Well-Being pages.
Related links:
Winning 'For the Life of Me' essays
Honorable mention essays
The Fighter: Lorie Hutton whips cancer three times, faces fourth bout at 79
‘Listen to your body'
By Rhonda Borden, 48, of Longview
I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 1995 at the age of 35. I found the lump myself and had to convince my doctor that it was possible I could have cancer with my kind of family history.
My paternal grandmother, aunt, two cousins, and my father have all died from cancer, yet my doctor wasn’t convinced that the gene would pass through my father to affect me. It took several visits, and some tears, to get his sympathy so he would send me to a surgeon for a needle biopsy.
My first lumpectomy, and then partial mastectomy surgery was three weeks later, followed by six months of chemotherapy and seven weeks of radiation sandwiched between chemo treatments.
The way I survived my first bout with cancer was the positive people who surrounded me. Not only my supportive friends and family, but the wonderful technicians, doctors and nurses who were helpful, funny and uplifting. I remember several times when nausea overcame me while lying on the table for my radiation treatment and they would he patient and wait with me for it to pass.
When I started to lose my hair, they would ask me what color I would like to have it grow back in, and I said, “Anything but red!”
The next thing I know, I have three red-haired technicians standing over me asking, “What’s wrong with red hair?”
On my last radiation treatment, they set me on the table, started the machine, and this time it was making weird noises and different humming sounds. I had always watched the clock during the procedure and this time it lasted much longer and I was afraid they had done something wrong and were going to over-cook me.
When the treatment was finished, I had our red-haired technicians greet me with a certificate for being a good-sport and telling me they hoped I would get red hair. The joking is what got me through the harsh treatments and back on the path to recovery.
I’ve been faithful every year with my mammograms, and in 2003, they detected another lump in the same breast. This time it required a full mastectomy with stronger chemotherapy. I had a shunt put in my chest to receive cherno and I got a staph infection. I was in the hospital for over three weeks fighting the infection, having different surgeons to replace the shunt with another line in my arm, and then being transported to Seattle after finding blood clots in my heart and arm.
One of the scariest moments was when I woke up during the surgery to place a catheter near the blood clot in my heart to deliver heparin, and the attending nurse told me they couldn’t give me any more anesthesia to put me hack to sleep!
Surviving a head-to-toe rash from the different chemicals to control the infection was another challenge, and getting shots in the belly wasn’t something I looked forward to every day.
Still, my caregivers always had smiles on their faces and stories to tell. When I was transferred hack to my local hospital, the doctor and nurses remembered me and I felt like I was in good hands. Just having people care about you in this way gives you more strength to survive than you can imagine.
Last year my yearly mammogram, once again, had some suspicious areas, so back I went for another biopsy. The tested cells were abnormal after a cancer clinic in California determined that it was a “pre-cancerous” stage, and with my doctor’s advice I decided to undergo another mastectomy. This time I avoided any follow-up treatment because the mammogram caught it so early.
Now, I truly live each day like it might be my last.
What gets me through each episode is to approach cancer like any other obstacle: Tackle it with the help of others — doctors, oncologists or holistic practitioners.
Most of all, get to know your body, and listen to your body. If you have any weird feelings or are uncomfortable with what your doctor prescribes, get another opinion. Doctors are human, and a good one will trust you to know yourself and send you on for further testing.
A positive attitude is very important not just to you, but to those around you. I’ve been on both sides of the fence so I know what it feels like to have cancer and how helpless you can feel when someone you know has it. I’ve watched my family disappear one by one. I feel lucky to keep surviving each recurrence.
My advice to friends and family is to be supportive. Take time to call or visit, even if you don’t know what to do or say. Being a victim of cancer taught me that most people are afraid to face the idea of death and when visitors would call, I could tell they didn’t want to hear all about my medical horrors.
Finally, all my life I have been independent. I wasn’t accustomed to asking for help or to having people feel sorry for me. I learned that asking for help makes others feel like they can do something worthwhile, and it makes visiting more comfortable. Just because you are a victim of cancer doesn’t mean you have to act like a victim. Take control of your mind and body, while surrounding yourself with people who are happy and full of life.
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