August/September 2012
I Don’t Like Door Number 3... By Sue George & Jan Robbins
On July 1, 2012, GYNCA’s board of directors elected its slate of officers for fiscal year 2012-2013. Assuming the helm as president of the board is Sue George. Sue brings a special and unique perspective to GYNCA’s board --- as a 5+ year survivor of primary peritoneal (Ovarian) cancer, she has faced this disease head on. On behalf of all who have faced life-threatening illnesses, Sue graciously shares her story.
“NO, THIS CANNOT BE, I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” Treatment is the next door --- we may or may not have the same feelings as with the diagnosis phase. When I am in treatment, I live day to day, week to week. I quickly began to understand what treatment was and how chemotherapy and radiation worked. I am on a first name basis with words like taxol, carboplatin, avastin, cisplatin, and on and on. I learned what questions to ask and almost feel like I am part of the medical team treating me. I am a part of this team, and there is some power in learning what drugs can make me live longer. When I have been in treatment, I just want to be done—my life is measured by how many more treatments I have, when is the next scan, what are my numbers? It can go by in a haze with side effects taking over my life. I am hooked to my doctor’s office with a cord that will not be cut. Actually, when I finish treatment I experience some sort of letdown. What if the cancer is still there? What am I going to do every three weeks? Will anyone be watching out for me?
As I have reflected on the last 5 ½ years of my life many things come to mind. What is first and foremost is before January of 2007, cancer was this thing other people got. It was the tragedy I read about with some famous person and occasionally it might strike a bit closer to home. But it wasn’t me—I had too much to do, I was too healthy, I was too young. Now cancer is and will always be part of my life. Sometimes I can forget I had cancer. Sometimes I can forget I had it twice. Sometimes I can forget I will get it again. But as a survivor I can’t really forget any of those things. Cancer is as much a part of my life as anything else could possibly be. It is there and will never totally leave me.
The third door for me is still the most difficult. It is the aftertreatment phase. Before I had cancer I had this silly idea that once you were diagnosed and received treatment, you were cured and done. Yes of course I knew of people who died of it, but look how many said “I’m cured.” What happened to the “abracadabra” after diagnosis and treatment when a person is supposed to be done and cured. It was only after I was into this process for a few years I really came to understand that cancer is with me for the rest of my life. Although hidden at times, it is my forever companion. It takes a lot to get your head around that one. When I think about cancer in a scientific manner, I think of tiny little cancer cells. They may not be visible and therefore can’t be removed … they are lying around in your body ready to make another move by attaching to an organ or end up in your bloodstream and you are forced to face them again --- back to door #1. In a non-scientific way, I view cancer as an intruder who annoyingly knocks on your door when you least expect it; disrupting your otherwise peaceful life.
I believe cancer survivors go through three distinct doors. The first one is the actual diagnosis. That is where I heard the word cancer for the first time and felt like someone punched me in the stomach. I was numb, scared, lost, and went through many weeks as if in a daze. This had to be someone else’s nightmare. I kept the paper with my notes on it from the first visit with the oncologist; I stared at the handwriting and can’t believe it is mine. Part of me was so strong, so clinical, asking questions about surgery, recovery and treatment. But inside I was screaming
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