Survivor Support

Feb. 19, 2010, a date that is burned into my memory. That was the day I had a modified radical mastectomy for Stage 2 breast cancer.

March 19, 2010. The next date that is unforgettable for me. That was the day I began five and a half months of chemotherapy by infusion.

The next few years I became used to taking a hand full of pills every day. Never one who ever took a pill, other than an aspirin for a headache, I found myself having to keep track of when to get prescriptions refilled and taking pills on a schedule.

At the end of my chemotherapy, a PET scan showed radiation wasn’t needed.

Six months before the five-year date that signifies you are cancer free, I learned the medicine I’d been taking for four and a half years had ceased doing what it should - keep the cancer from spreading.

A contrast CT scan revealed the cancer had metastasized to my bones. The oncologist recommended five days of radiation.

Some six months later, it was determined I needed another radiation treatment.

Everything seemed to be good, but several months later my right leg was hurting so bad I could hardly walk. Results of an ultrasound showed a large blood clot in my leg. After several days in the hospital, I was told I should go to Billings to have a PET scan. The scan showed the presence of a malignant tumor in my hip.

Surgery was scheduled to remove the tumor and replace the hip. And once again, the medicine I’d been taking proved to have failed. So a different one was prescribed.

And when that one quit working, still another medicine, along with a shot once a month, was prescribed, along with another radiation treatment. Now, six months after starting that regimen, a blood test showed it, too, has failed.

Up until now, I’ve been taking hormone therapy. Now I’ll soon be starting chemotherapy again, but this time by taking three pills in the morning and four at night.

This is what a cancer survivor lives with every day - the worry that at some time their cancer, although declared in remission, will turn up in another spot in their body.

I use the word remission, because to me that is a better word than cured. It’s my belief that once you’ve battled active cancer cells and somehow manage to halt them, they are just biding their time figuring out how to become active again.

That doesn’t mean, however, survivors don’t and can’t enjoy life. As I recently told a woman, “I have cancer, but it doesn’t have me. I am not going to let it own me or stop me from enjoying my life. I’m going to do everything I can to fight it and keep on going.”

In just a few weeks the Valley County chapter of Relay for Life will hold their annual event. The fairgrounds will be filled with survivors and caregivers. Onlookers, some of whom have relatives and friends who are among the survivors, will be cheering them on as they make the first lap to open the Relay.

Support, in any form, is important to a survivor. Even though it’s been a day, a month, a year, or a number of years since a survivor was diagnosed they need support. Keep in mind that a hug, a smile, kind words, a shoulder to lean on, someone with time to listen - all are among ways to give survivors the support they need.

Survivors also need to have people help them to enjoy their lives. Rejoice with them in their achievements and in milestones in their lives. A lunch date, weekend getaway, going to an event you know they will have fun attending, an evening that includes supper, visiting, and perhaps playing cards or going dancing - more ways to help survivors keep up their spirits.

Always keep the three C’s in mind when giving your support to survivors - concern, care and compassion. Know that whatever you do to help a survivor, even if you think what you are doing isn’t much, it means a great deal to them.