August 2024
In October of 2003, when I was 52, I was startled by a pain in my upper side when I stepped off a curb. I was bloated but figured it was digestion. Over the next few days, I sensed something was seriously wrong. After a series of tests at Oregon Health & Science University (OHSU), I was diagnosed with stage 3C ovarian cancer. Surgery followed in November to remove a tumor on my transverse colon (the source of the pain) and a hysterectomy. I was lucky to have top-rated surgeons who were also experienced in ovarian cancer surgery.
Soon after surgery, I attended a meeting of the Ovarian Cancer Alliance of Oregon and SW Washington. It was a game-changer; I heard over twenty women explain their treatment and how they were coping. The meeting fast-forwarded me to an understanding of my new medical life. It was enormously helpful to feel part of a community of women who were also dealing with a terrifying diagnosis.
About six weeks after surgery, I began chemotherapy as a participant in a chemotherapy clinical trial involving three chemo drugs and sixteen rounds of chemo. Luckily, I was strong enough to withstand the higher doses of chemo given in the trial and could have blood-boosting drugs and blood transfusions, so I only missed one scheduled chemo. Unfortunately, when the trial finished, it was determined not to be more effective than traditional chemotherapy.
Many people gave me advice during and after treatment, some of which was:
A friend taught me that when I felt anxiety welling up, I could stop the free fall into fear by undertaking a highly structured action, like memorizing a poem. It works.
My family and friends were wonderfully supportive; they gave me the courage to stay positive.
As Jimmy Buffett says about life, “Some of it is magic, and some of it is tragic.” Let’s seek the magic…and reduce the tragic by paying attention to our bodies, insisting on exams by gynecologic oncologists for any fears, and encouraging friends to do the same.