Melanie Chu, Portland

November 2020

Hindsight! I had the classic symptoms of ovarian cancer but was ignorant of the cancer.

At age 48 I was feeling pretty good up until the month before my diagnosis. Unfortunately, I’d declined an internal exam during my previous annual check-up. I’d been experiencing a range of menstrual changes for the past few years and contacted my primary care doctor to discuss options. She wanted me to have an ultrasound first. She called to tell me that the results indicated a follow up CT scan and mentioned the possibilities, including cancer. Hello internet – I looked up cancers and saw I had the symptoms: bloating, fatigue, odd periods, coughing. I had an excuse for each symptom – gas, allergy season, pre-menopausal, thinking they were all separate, but was not holistically looking at them. But maybe it’s a more common non-cancerous growth! Hope, glorious hope.

My cough worsened, and I was having trouble breathing before my scheduled scan. I decided to call my PCP in the morning, as it felt like I might have pneumonia. I had a chest x-ray, and my doctor immediately knew what was up. She sent me home to prepare for a hospital overnight while she waited for call backs from specialists. My breathing was poor; I needed to get the fluid removed from my lung that day or overnight at the hospital, as it wasn’t safe for me to spend another night home in this condition. She couldn’t get a radiologist appointment, but she had a gynecologic oncologist who would admit me at the hospital.

I had my first overnight at a hospital – and my diagnosis. I met with my gyn-onc the following morning. She confirmed my diagnosis of ovarian cancer and said the standard treatment was three rounds of chemo, debulking surgery, followed by another three rounds of chemo. I asked if I was going to make it to surgery. She said, “If you die before the surgery, it won’t be from the cancer.” That made me feel a lot better as I felt terrible, physically and mentally. I had my radiologist appointment for a thoracentesis procedure to remove fluid from my lung; I was then was discharged from the hospital.

It turns out, even though I have two lungs, I need both to breathe. My treatment got rearranged to surgery first and then chemo, as pathology had not been established to start chemo. That was a long three weeks – I was out of breath after walking a few feet and felt awful. I got ready for treatment – planned time off from work, scheduled to stay with family, went to appointments, moved slowly, and just felt very old. Though I was nervous about the surgery and what might be found, the surgery couldn’t come soon enough, I wanted to get going!

Surgery, my second hospital stay, and the surgery recovery went as smoothly as can be hoped. I was amazed at the accuracy of the projected recovery timeline that was outlined to me. Each day in the hospital and at home I got stronger and felt better. And after two weeks I felt much better, just in time to get ready for chemotherapy.

I did the standard six rounds of chemotherapy in a three week cycle, of carboplatin and Taxol. The chemo went relatively well – at first it went by quickly, but the last two cycles were hard. I could not wait to finish treatment. It was a long six months – recovering from the surgery, going through chemo, having the side effects. I dropped in with the local support group as well as cancer movement programs, tried not to read too much on the internet about cancer, slept a lot, hydrated a lot, did a whole lot of thinking, and went back to work part-time. I also planned a beach vacation for November – something to look forward to while worrying and trying not to worry.

I was evaluated with stage IV ovarian cancer, Yikes, the numbers do not look good. It still sounds overly dramatic, but I tried to stay positive and to remember it is better to have months than no months. All things considered, things could be better, things could be a lot worse.

I’ve made it to two years post treatment, a fantastic milestone. I still have lingering effects – from the chemo, the forced menopause, and/or just aging. I’m grateful and a little bemused that I am recurrence free with no sign of disease. Unlucky to have cancer, lucky to have survived so far.

I am fortunate that I could be self-centered on healing and recovery. As you don’t go through cancer by yourself, intermingled in the story are the people who supported me through treatment and survivorship. I had people come to all my medical appointments and visit with me during chemo, which made the time quickly pass. People chauffeured me about town, grocery shopped, cooked, carried things around the house, did house and yard work. Friends visited from near and far, read medical articles and explained my pathology to me. Co-workers stepped up to do my job. The support groups and community of ovarian cancer women are wonderful, sharing the practical on what to expect during treatment and post-treatment as well as reinforcing both the commonalities of cancer and how every path is different.