Merry Vediner

March 2018

My story began in early summer of 2014. I was visiting with a friend who had been diagnosed with Stage 4 ovarian cancer. She told me that even as a physician her symptoms were vague and that she had attributed them to other causes. She said that if I ever experienced symptoms, no matter how subtle they might be, to call my physician immediately. My friend died barely four weeks later. In mid-October 2014 I realized that I had “quiet” symptoms. I called my physician and was seen immediately. In barely two weeks I was examined, had a trans-vaginal ultrasound and was referred to a surgeon. I had surgery in November 2014. The pathology report indicated that I had an early form of ovarian cancer called STIC, or Serous Tubal Intraepithelial Carcinoma, which is confined to the fallopian tubes and hasn’t moved to the ovaries. I started six rounds of chemo in January 2015. My aftercare is regular pelvic exams, CA 125 tests and constant monitoring of any physical changes.

That is the medical start of my cancer journey. The real story for me turned out to be the emotional, introspective and activism paths that cancer gave me. I quickly learned that my oncologist, primary physician and her team are remarkable. They listened, believed and trusted that I knew my body. For the past three plus years they have given me support, information and respect every step of the way. They welcomed me as part of my own treatment team.

The activism part began during my first round of chemo. I met women who had all been diagnosed in more advanced stages. During those long hours in the infusion lab we talked and compared symptoms. Working with several oncologists who reviewed our collected symptoms we developed the a “symptom calendar.” In the Spring of 2015, my son, husband, and friends helped to create a website, http://symptomcalendar.com. We used a very simple “pass-it-on” email message to spread the word that the symptoms for GYN cancers are “quiet not silent.”

The emotional piece began with my diagnosis. I was in shock. However, I felt immediate gratitude because my strongest symptom had been my intuition, and I had been believed. I wanted to listen to and learn from other women so I asked about a support group. We live in Southern Oregon and did not have a formal group here. Two other women and I planted the seed for a formal group and the Southern Oregon GYN cancer support group had its first monthly meeting in September 2015. We were extremely fortunate to have a skilled, caring and professional oncology social worker to guide us. The group meets in Medford the third Monday of every month.

The internal journey began even before my diagnosis. I always thought that if I had cancer I would be consumed with fear every moment of every day. I thought I would be emotionally paralyzed. There are some days that are just all-around bad. But, overall, I am continually surprised at how much living and laughing I have done since cancer. On the third anniversary of my diagnosis I made a list of all the things that I had experienced since cancer. My ‘list of life’ is my declaration that I am still me. I try not to think about the outcome of my diagnosis, instead I work to focus on the present. I have completed closets full of half-finished projects that I decided to either finish or let go of. My goal every day is to show up in my own life for as much and as long as I can.

I do not mean to sound like a Pollyanna about ovarian cancer. My heart breaks for the friends that I have made and lost since my diagnosis. I wish that I had not developed this horrible cancer, but I did. I don’t have a single one of the known risk factors. What I did have was early detection of ovarian cancer, a spectacular medical team, loving support, and the belief that I can always choose my attitude. All of us have already lost enough to cancer. I refuse to give cancer my humor, my integrity, my optimism and my love of life.