Blue Notes from a Red Zone

Against All Odds

My cousin's wife has been publishing stories of a very different kind than the ones I post. I write about the generic, she focuses on her very personal struggle against cancer. As a result, she probably reaches hearts in a way I can't come close to duplicating. I asked her permission to excerpt this and publish it on my website, but then decided I didn't know where to cut. It would be like editing her, and I want every bit of her to shine through. It's long, but no longer than it needs to be. Hope you like it.

By Lisa Majors
GUEST WRITER


It's amazing how words can change your life.

"I do."

"It's a boy!"

And, most recently, "You have cancer."

My journey with cancer began in 2005 when at the ripe young age of 47 I set out to lose weight. This was something that I had wanted to do for a long time. I became serious about it, changed my eating habits and the weight started coming off. I reached my ideal weight, and I was happy about that, but instead of feeling great I felt awful. I was tired, out of breath, had no appetite and was in quite a bit of pain.

What had been an occasional dull abdominal ache had become a constant cramp-like pain. It was time to visit the doctor. Besides, I was past due for a general physical.

When the day came for my appointment, I was nervous. I had a feeling that something was very wrong. I brought my husband along with me for reassurance.

It was a first-time visit with the doctor. He was great, very patient and reassuring. We chatted for a few minutes and I told him a little bit about myself and the symptoms I had been experiencing. He told me my blood work showed I was severely anemic. In fact, he was surprised I was even able to walk in there. No wonder I was feeling so tired and was out of breath. I didn't have the needed red blood cells to carry enough oxygen.

The doctor proceeded with a very careful and thorough physical examination during which he felt a rectal mass. Not good. He left for a minute while the nurse took X-rays of my lungs. Then he met with us and told us that the mass needed to be checked out and that he had called a local colon surgeon and made an appointment for us.

I expected this to be soon, a day or two later maybe, but no, we were to go right then and take the X-rays with us. I asked when the appointment was. He told me the appointment was “when you get there!” This was all happening so fast and sounding very ominous, so I asked him what it could be. He said it could be a number of things but one of them might be cancer so we needed to check it out now. Off we went to the colon doctor. A quick look at the X-rays and he scheduled me for a colonoscopy the following week. Things were happening entirely too fast, but they needed to.

The following week, I went in for my colonoscopy. The news was not good. I learned that I had stage 4 colon cancer that had metastasized to my liver and lungs. He also informed me that the tumor was not operable and asked if we knew a good oncologist.

Actually, we did. My uncle had been treated for prostate cancer a few years back, and the family was very impressed with his doctor. So we called him and had an appointment almost immediately. He told me about the cancer, but he said there was much he could do to prolong my life and improve the quality of my life.

So I began fighting back and it felt great! I had to get blood before I started on chemo but about two weeks later I was getting the treatment. It was a great choice for me because I responded strongly. I finished seven treatments when my oncologist and colon surgeon agreed that my tumor was now operable. I was told the operation would probably mean that I would have a colostomy. That was not a problem to me! I wanted this operation. Get this outta me! I had surgery in January.

Again I was blessed with a gifted surgeon and he took that tumor out. After a little recovery time the next step was 25 radiation treatments along with more chemo to keep the main tumor from coming back. During all of this I began to feel better. Since surgery, my weight is back up to where it needs to be. I feel great and there are very few things I can’t do. The next stage of my journey (which my oncologist calls a marathon; I love that description especially since only eight months ago I thought I was losing a sprint) is more chemotherapy which will begin in three weeks.

I am ready to continue to fight my cancer. I’m more than ready. I know that things can get rough, but those nasty little mean cells have found the wrong body to inhabit.

What is my prognosis?

My prognosis is that right now, today, I am living with cancer, and tomorrow I will live with it too, and the day after that, and the day after that, as long as it takes. I don’t look at statistics. I know how I feel, and I can live this day, and that’s all that matters. That and the fact that I can get stuff for next Easter on sale right now.

I have a loving family that encourages and embraces me. They are extremely supportive. We had 17 people (15 people and two ministers) in the surgery waiting room. I also have a very strong church family and I feel so thankful for that. In fact, all of the cards that I’ve received from friends, family and even people I don’t know are now hanging on my wall in my bedroom. They take up almost half of my room and every morning when I first wake up, the first thing I see are all the cards that I’ve received. These are from people that have expressed their care and continue to pray for me. How humbling! I’m reminded each and every day of just how lucky I am.

It’s through my strong faith in God, family support and one heck of a medical team that I’m here. Life is soooooo good.

One special card stands out. It’s from my sister-in-law. It’s a beautiful picture of a 10th century Austrian castle wall. The massive stones are hand-cut and closely fit together, yet a wonderfully hearty rose vine is growing through the wall. It is in full bloom. Below this she put a quote from Jim Wallis:

“Hope is believing in spite of the evidence and watching the evidence change.”

That kinda says it all, doesn’t it?

posted by Lenore Wilson @ 9:17 PM