The day after the scan and x-ray, I left for a week’s vacation in beautiful Del Mar, California. I received a voicemail from Dr. Kyrillos when we landed in LA, telling me that they saw a large mass in the center of my chest. I choked back tears – I was terribly afraid of what that meant – while my mind didn’t immediately say cancer, it did say “you could die”. I called and talked to my doctor; she indicated that the doctors she consulted said it had probably been there a long time, so not to rush home. So I enjoyed (as best I could!) the vacation. While on vacation, I noticed that I became winded easily, and when I talked, I ran out of air occasionally. It was a strange feeling. But otherwise, I continued to feel good (although I was sleeping sitting up because when I lay down, the “thing” in my throat made me feel like I would gag).

 

When we were less than an hour from the Philadelphia airport – I felt like I couldn’t breathe – maybe it was that my lung had partially collapsed (which we learned later) or maybe it was just a panic attack with my fear of what faced me at home – but it’s absolutely amazing how quickly a crew can get a plane to the gate when they need to!! We were at the gate within moments of landing – and if you’ve ever flown in or out of Philadelphia – you know that’s remarkable!! I was met by an EMT crew – and it took some talking to get them to allow me to be driven to my home hospital rather than the one near the airport! But within an hour, I was sitting at Jefferson Hospital, awaiting admission. My boyfriend called my brother and sister-in-law, who came to stay with me until I was admitted.

 

The following morning, I was visited by Dr. Andrew Haas, a thoracic surgeon, accompanied by a resident (a constant at Jefferson, a teaching hospital). Being admitted offers the advantage of speed of diagnosis. Dr. Haas noted that a lymph node in my neck was quite swollen, and said it would provide a good biopsy point. The biopsy was easy and painless. When Dr. Haas returned, he had a piece of paper with a free-hand drawing on it. Using the drawing, he showed me where a small tumor in my right lung started. He showed me where the large (5 cm x 10 cm) mass was in the thoracic cavity between my lungs, and where the cancer had spread to the lymph node on my left clavicle. He explained that I had small cell lung cancer (SCLC), a less common and very aggressive lung cancer. He went on to explain that SCLC is only staged as limited or extensive. If designated as limited, the treatment was aggressive, and the cancer was generally responsive to treatment. He told me that 30% of SCLC patients are cured and live a normal life. At the moment, I decided to be part of that 30%.

 

The difficulty was that not all of the doctors believed I was “limited stage”. At Jefferson’s Cancer Center, a team of doctors meet to review new cases, with the patient available for examination. I will forever be indebted to my oncologist, Dr. Rita Axelrod, and to my radiologist, Dr. Rita Werner-Wasik, who fought very hard on my behalf to have my staging declared limited so they could treat me for cure. Had they not been successful, my treatment would have been less aggressive, and designed only to prolong my life. But they won – and I won! I had 5 rounds of chemo, and 15 days of twice daily radiation following the first 2 rounds of chemo. Except for a week when I was extremely sick (having no immune system left!), treatment wasn’t bad. In December, I had a PET scan which showed NO sign of cancer!! YEA!!!!!!

 

Treatment concluded with 10 days of prophylactic brain radiation to reduce the chance of recurrence in the brain.

 

I was very fortunate to be recommended to a fabulous salon for a wig, which I affectionately refer to as “Susie”. Susie gave me the confidence to venture out in public. Since I live in center city Philadelphia, I have always been a walker. I tried to walk into town several times a week. I bought a pedometer – and the days when I came closest to 10,000 steps were the days I felt the best. If I did less – I didn’t feel as good. Exercise is good. I also did guided imagery with CDs that a friend had gifted me. I did yoga. It helped.

 

Last month I celebrated 12 months of being cancer free. I feel good. My only residual side effect is upper back discomfort frequently – with very little exercise causing it to ache – a likely result of radiation scarring of the tissue surrounding the thoracic cavity. And if that’s the worst of it – I consider myself very fortunate! Of course my hair is just silly – after spending a lifetime wishing for my extremely straight hair to have some curl – I now wish it were straight!! And while it took over 3 months to start to grow again after the brain radiation – it has come in thick and full – and I’m told the curl will grow out.

 

During treatment, I did not work. I had been scheduled to start a new job 2 weeks after I was diagnosed. At my doctors’ suggestion, I chose not to start, and so resigned. However, I wanted to do something, so I enrolled in the College of Financial Planning to start working toward the Certified Financial Planner designation. That gave me the inspiration to change careers, and in May, I started working at Merrill Lynch as a Financial Advisor (after 25 years in banking). I didn’t mention my illness. I simply don’t discuss it at work. But with the new lease on life that cancer had given me, I felt inspired to do something I wanted to do, and that I thought would be helpful to others.

 

My cancer diagnosis was in some ways a gift. It amazed me how many people reached out to support me. Many told me things that normally would be saved for a eulogy. It’s nice to hear those things without having to die!! I am grateful for every single day now. I live more fully in the moment, and make choices differently. I choose to do those things that are more meaningful to me and others – of course, my house isn’t as clean, but I will eventually die more fulfilled!

 

In my personal life, I am open about having had lung cancer. I subscribe to automated emails about progress in lung cancer research, and am hopeful of an easy, low cost screening mechanism within the next 5 to 10 years. I find it appalling that lung cancer research is so woefully under funded compared to other cancers – and yet is the number cancer killer. That’s why I asked my oncologist, Dr. Axelrod, what I could do to help. She connected me to the National Lung Cancer Partnership. It was a delight to work with Kenda and Stephanie on the Free to Breathe 5K Run in Philadelphia in November – and I’m looking forward to even more success next year!

 

I still have people ask if my cancer was related to my smoking. My reaction is “If you are in a car accident, are your injuries related to your being in the car?” We all make choices, some of which carry risks, known and unknown. And smoking is probably the most addictive negative thing we can do to our bodies. If I could eliminate cigarettes from the world, I would. I am proud to say that 5 of my closest friends stopped smoking when I was diagnosed. I wish my son would. The statistics aren’t pretty. Perhaps if I had known that 1 in 16 women would get lung cancer or that 1 in 5 smokers would - perhaps I would have stopped smoking sooner. But lung cancer doesn’t have enough survivors to give the disease a loud voice. Every one who has been touched by this disease – and there are so many – needs to raise the consciousness of the rest of the world so that we can prevent, diagnose, treat and cure the number one cancer killer.