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A V O C A T I O N
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Yale Cancer Center
Early in 2006, after two bouts with cancer, I was asked to contribute my story to a section of the Yale Cancer Center's website called Survivor Stories. While trying to schedule the interview, I was diagnosed for the third time and had to put off my contribution (mostly because I did want to set myself up for a tragic irony ;-) However, after things started to look up again, I finally had a chance to work with the PR team at Yale Cancer Center to complete my story. They wrote the initial draft, and I did lots of revisions to get it just right. Here is my story (link to story live on the Yale Cancer Center's website to follow shortly). - - - I was diagnosed with non-Hodgekin's lymphoma at 11 years old. The first question I asked after my biopsy was if I could go to a school dance that night. I did and, shortly after, began 7 months of chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Although the experience forced me to grow up quickly in many ways, having cancer at such a young age was more surreal than anything. After 18 years with no recurrence, I figured the worst was behind me, that I had paid my dues, that cancer was "in my past." Then, in the fall of 2005 I noticed a tiny swollen gland in my neck. I had it checked out just to be safe. My doctor assured me it was nothing, but the swelling got worse so I had it scanned. As it turned out, I had developed a thyroid goiter that tested negative for cancer. I followed up with a specialist and, on her recommendation, had my thyroid removed to avoid further complications. A month later, I got the news: They had found two small tumors on my thyroid. Ironically, having thyroid cancer probably saved my life. Before receiving radioactive iodine therapy (the standard protocol) I asked how the potential risks might be compounded by the radiation treatments I received as a child. It was then that I was referred to the HERO'S clinic at Yale Cancer Center. The HERO'S clinic provides specialized follow-up care to survivors of childhood cancer, advocating and aiding in the early detection of complications from past treatments. On my first visit in September 2006, doctors examined me, provided information, and ordered a number of tests to monitor risks specific to my treatment history. Everything checked out fine, with one exception. Doctors saw what they called "several suspicious areas" on my first MRI to screen for breast cancer. Over the next few months I had many biopsies. All came back inconclusive or showing precancerous changes. In January 2007, I had a lumpectomy to remove four of the "suspicious areas." Eighteen years after my original diagnosis and less than a year from my second, I faced a third diagnosis of Stage I breast cancer. Two weeks later, I went in for a double mastectomy. Armed with a healthy dose of humor and the support of many wonderful friends and family, I prevailed over cancer once again. Still, it was one of the darkest times in my life. Being diagnosed with cancer is a shock. Being diagnosed with three different cancers—two in the same year and all before your 30th birthday—is downright unimaginable. That sense of being a survivor was something I'd connected with most of my life. But now, I felt completely alone. I didn't know any childhood cancer survivors, and I didn't feel I could relate to people experiencing cancer for the first time. I already had a lifetime of experience living with and after cancer. I wasn't asking, "why me?" I was worrying, "what next?" My first remission came at a time when the long-term effects of cancer treatments weren't widely known and survivorship clinics didn't exist. After I was considered cured, I left the care of my oncologist with little knowledge and nowhere to go. The HERO'S clinic was a light in the dark. Once they helped me understand my risks—and, more importantly, what I could do to mitigate them—I felt empowered. Nina Kadan-Lottick, Medical Director of the clinic, made herself available to me throughout my breast cancer experience. It was such a relief to finally have someone to turn to with my questions. Yoga also provided a break in the clouds, helping to clear my mind and regain my strength. Slowly but surely I got back on track, eating right and exercising. Just five months after my mastectomy I rode my bike 25 miles in the 2007 CT Challenge, raising over $4,300 for the HERO'S clinic. Giving back to the cancer community did a lot for my emotional recovery. Sharing that sense of accomplishment with other survivors and supporters gave me the inspiration I needed to move forward again. For the first time in a long while, I didn't feel so alone. Music has always been a passion of mine too. But I had to put it aside because all of my energy was consumed with fighting cancer. Playing music again helps me feel normal, like I have the freedom of mind to focus on other things. Not that it's always easy. Sometimes I still feel isolated from people my age who are free from the burdens of being a childhood cancer survivor. So I take it day by day. Whenever I start to feel like the cards are stacked against me, I imagine that every positive step I take is one more point I score against cancer. With every new accomplishment, I'm still fighting. And I will continue to fight as long as it takes.
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