speechlessness and it led to good questions from them.
Moment 2. I worked during chemo so one day as the end of the school year neared I was just ready for it to end (I felt like you’re lucky I’m here people). The same Mrs. Francis from above saw me walk through the door and said “Okay, I know you’re my friend and all, and I know you have cancer but I just can’t let you do this. You can’t walk around wearing Crocs with socks! You just can’t do it! I have to draw the line here.” Of course I asked a student who was so quiet and sweet and she said: “Uhm! Well....actually...uhm! you really should just...just take the socks off.” My friend told my other colleagues and I still get reminded of my “Crocs with socks” look.
Moment 3. When I was first diagnosed my husband would ask me to do things and I would reply “F.U.I.H.C!” (F U ...I have cancer!) if I just didn’t feel up to it. It became a running joke between the two of us and helped us through a tough time.
I don’t know if in writing this translates to funny moments but to me, during my rollercoaster of emotions these were funny stories.
Smiles…I do have a story on the flip side of this but with knowledge gained from it. I went to the Jersey Shore with my family because my generous co-workers raised money to give us a getaway. We went and had a great time. We had been there two years in a row before because it is a happy place for my kids. At the time, my kids were 5 and 7. They are two daring little boys that love rollercoasters and things. When you are on the boardwalk at night, it is filled with joyseekers. This night was no exception. I kept seeing people look at me (hairless and eyebrowless) and they would wince (the looks were like: “Aww this poor mom is going on the rollercoaster for the last time. How sad!” Sprinkled among the wincing and sad faces I would see a random smile. At the first and second smile I was like: “Why is this person smiling at me so big?” “Is this person crazy?” It wasn’t until the wincing lead me to break down in a wave of tears that I realized that the smilers had the knowledge I didn’t. The smilers were sending me a message of hope and positive thoughts because they must’ve known that I needed that. Before this I had been doing my usual routine outings with people that know me and knew I was doing well. It was the strangers feeling sorry for me that brought me discomfort, so the bottom line is, share your story with your own words when possible, and to everyone else I would say: if you ever see people you might suspect have cancer, just flash them a smile--it really is the best thing you can do.
Michelle lives in Stroudsburg, PA with her husband, Matt and sons, Daniel and Jeremy. She is a teacher at Pocono Mountain. You can reach her at [email protected].
The Story of a Breast Cancer Survivor
Linda Byrne
My breast cancer journey began in the Spring of 2007. It was during a routine gynecological appointment; the doctor found a large lump and requested further testing. I wasn’t alarmed due to my history of being cystic. A biopsy revealed that indeed, I did have cancer. My oncologist/surgeon did a lumpectomy on June 3, 2007. This was followed by radiation and an adjuvant therapy, (herceptin injections). This treatment was possible because I was diagnosed as having HER2+ breast cancer.
There are many varieties of cancer, HER2+ is very aggressive. I did some research and discovered the reason this cancer is called HER2+ is because there are two or more HER2 genes for every normal gene in my cells, an over expression. The HER2 gene is found in the DNA of a cell. The purpose of the HER2 gene is to help normal cells grow. HER2 protein is found on the surface of cancer cells, also referred to as a HER2 receptor. These HER2 tumors tend to grow and spread -more quickly than HER2- tumors. After radiation I began a series of herceptin injections. When I finished my herceptin treatments, I continued taking tamoxifen which I still take daily. During my treatment my doctor did try another medication. After blood tests were run, he found that I was peri-menopausal, not postmenopausal. In order for this drug to be successful, you must be postmenopausal. Back on tamoxifen I went. My theory for life being: “If I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have luck at all”. But truthfully, there were some rays of sunshine throughout this whole process. I didn’t lose my hair, met great doctors and nurses, I didn’t require a total mastectomy and I’m still here to tell my story.
Breast cancer was not my first experience with a life altering medical condition. Twenty-six years before breast cancer I had suffered a closed head injury. That trauma happened in the prime of my life. I was a recent graduate of The Pennsylvania State University, a newlywed, and I had recently secured a great job with a major oil company. I was all ready to begin a new chapter in my life. Instead, I was severely injured in a motor vehicle accident. Life has never been the same!
My major at Penn State was Human Development, specializing in Early Childhood. I ruled out teaching after I did a semester at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia as a Play Therapist. I worked in a toddler playroom on one of the floors of CHOP. It is funny, CHOP is located next door to The Hospital of The University of Pennsylvania, where I was being treated for a massive brain injury. I was comatose for about four months. Life is fickle. CHOP’S newsletter had a picture of me in the playroom working with a patient on cognitive skills as a Therapist. Who would have thought that I’d be fighting for my life three years later.
My practicum at CHOP was a deciding factor in a career switch to the business world. As a newlywed, I was trying to keep costs down. I downsized on my insurance cost and benefits. The changes were not effective until the Monday AFTER my horrific car accident. The accident happened with my husband and I sitting unrestrained in the back seat of a friends VW bug. The accident happened in Lancaster County. I went initially to Ephrata Hospital where my parents were told to come. A doctor told my Mom all she could do was pray for a miracle. I was immediately transferred to HUP. At this great hospital I was still in a sorry shape. In fact, I received “Last Rites” three different times. I received radiation in such high doses, and numerous tests, NO WONDER I HAVE CANCER.
Sometimes I have a hard time accepting the hand I’ve been dealt. I have a fused elbow, artificial hip, visual and cognitive impairments and to boot, I am now a cancer survivor. Because of my misfortune, it made me stronger than I ever thought I’d be.
I struggle on disability trying to pay everything. I feel my purpose for living is to resonate to breast cancer and traumatic brain injury patients to ‘NEVER GIVE UP’. As a disabled woman who lost everything, I’m still picking up the pieces; hoping for a better tomorrow...
Linda lives in Upper Darby, PA.
Briefly Scared Witless
Bobbi Chard
I thought I knew all about cancer. I was a caregiver for three members of my immediate family all who battled cancer and who lost their battle years ago. I witnessed first-hand how cancer could turn your life upside—in fact, I felt a little guilty about being the sole survivor of my family. Then the unexpected happened – their story became my story.
On April 19, 2006 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I will never forget the doctor’s words: “I’m sorry, but you have cancer.” He went on to talk about my cancer and the plan of treatment but the more he talked the farther away his voice became as if he was in a tunnel. I was in shock. I was terrified—everyone I had known with cancer had died. Many thoughts came racing into my mind at this time--”Am I going to die too? Why me? Do I deserve this?” Then “Did I cause it? Was it the fish, the dairy, the wine or meat or nothing I did at all? Just the luck of the draw?
A simple truth became clear to me over the next few months ---cancer happens – it has no favorites or “target” groups – no age restraints or hunt for weakened victims. It strikes without preference, without
