It was a Sunday morning...

Editor's Note: We are honored to have A.W. Gryphon share her story of diagnosis with us.
Allison W. Gryphon is an Author, Filmmaker, Creator of The Why? Foundation and a Breast Cancer Survivor. You can also find her on facebook >>

It was a Sunday morning. I’d been up early for a pilates class and I was just out of the shower. I had brunch with my friend Joaquim and a matinée with my standing weekend movie buddy, Elissa.

Getting dressed, I went to put my bra on and it didn’t quite fit right. I re-adjusted and then I froze. I was standing in front of my closet in a small room that suddenly seemed massive and empty… and painfully quiet. I think when someone feels a lump for the first time and they know in their gut what it is, the world does truly stop spinning, just for a moment. Just long enough for you to hear your own heart beating, to feel what it means to take a breath and to know not only the full weight of your body, but of your being.

It was Sunday morning so there were no doctors to call or appointments to be had. It would be something to be taken care of the next day. Everything would change. I knew that. So I got myself dressed and went out for a lovely brunch with Joaquim then off to see Julian Schnabel’s new movie with Elissa. I said nothing to my friends and it was a wonderful. The presence of the lump was never far from my thoughts, but I wanted a day of love and friendship, not fear and concern.

My Monday began with a trip to an Urgent Care Clinic, the fastest way I could get the referral for a mammogram. I was at a highly recommended breast center at 7am Tuesday morning. First there was the mammogram, during which the technician suggested we take a few extra views for the doctor, then came the ultra sound, then the doctor, then the second ultra sound and then the smile. That smile of hope and encouragement and knowing how much trouble I was in that I will never forget. “We’re going to do a needle biopsy.” The wonderful doctor said kindly taking my hand and meeting my eyes to hers.

I don’t know how to describe what was going through my head at that moment. Everything. Nothing. I knew what it was and I knew it was happening, but I hadn’t connected those thoughts. It was like I was watching a movie, but it was me.

The following day, I went to work. I went to normal. That’s what I needed to do. Just before lunch my phone rang. It was the same lovely doctor who’d done the needle biopsy the day before. “We were all pulling for you.” She said… And then she told me what I already knew was coming.

It’s one thing to know what’s coming, it’s another matter all together to hear someone say it out loud. Someone you don’t know, but who in one instant will have changed your life forever. I know that what followed were words of support and encouragement. I don’t remember them. I do remember hanging up the phone and looking at the buttons, not quite sure what to do with them. The room was heavy and there were people on the other side of my closed door waiting. People who had assured me that everything would be ok, not just for me, but for themselves. There were friends, colleagues, people I cared about and people I didn’t know out there. Everyone who the explosion was going to hit once I opened the door.

It took almost a half hour. I looked at the door for a long time. It was real for me, but once I opened that door it would be real outside of that room.

The first person I saw was Jude. She was sitting in a chair right outside wide-eyed and steady. I’m not sure if they were all there already or if they heard me come over, but within a moment Shannon, Mary Beth and Jackie were looking back at me amongst a busy office full of people who were about to find out.

I don’t know if the assault of the cancer on me or of the news on everyone else was more jarring. What I do know is that’s the day where I found out what I was made of and when I found out who all of the people on the other side of that door really were.

It was the most devastating and beautiful day of my life. And that is how my battle with stage IIIa breast cancer began on Wednesday April 13, 2011.

Harmony Hill Survivorship Fair and Open House

Providence Regional Cancer System is proud to sponsor our friends at Harmony Hill Retreat Center's 3rd Annual Survivorship Fair and Open House, Aug. 25, 9 a.m.- 5 p.m.

The event is free and open to anyone seeking information on cancer survivorship resources and tools. For more information, visit: http://www.harmonyhill.org/node/547

 

A new Mom's cancer struggle

I learned the truth of the saying “It takes a village” shortly after the birth of my daughter Lily on August 4, 2005. Although she was born by emergency C-section, both of us appeared healthy.

Lily was indeed a happy, robust baby, but within weeks of her birth, I knew something was wrong with me beyond the usual new-mom exhaustion. Doctors subjected me to a battery of tests, and on November 21, 2005, only 3½ months after Lily’s birth, I learned I had malignant plural mesothelioma.

Also known as mesothelioma cancer, this disease attacks the lining of the lung. Its primary cause is asbestos exposure, which I must have encountered at some point in my childhood.

Given 15 months to live without treatment, all I could think about was Lily growing up motherless. Theprognosis for mesothelioma is poor, so I opted for an aggressive course of treatment. My husband and I went to Boston, where on February 2, I underwent a treatment for mesothelioma known as extrapleural pneumenectomy, surgery in which my left lung was removed. I spent 18 days in the hospital following the procedure and two additional months recovering before I began chemotherapy and radiation.

But I wasn’t just a cancer patient—I was a new mother as well. Without the support of our village, we wouldn’t have made it. We learned who our true friends were: some people we depended on were nowhere to be found, while others we didn’t even realize were part of our village generously offered their love, assistance, and prayers.

While my husband and I were in Boston, my parents cared for Lily back in my childhood home of South Dakota, where a village surrounded them as well. Girls I used to babysit now babysat Lily while my parents worked. Members of the church I’d attended and people I grew up with were there for my parents as well.

In Boston, my husband and I found support with new friends, many of whom were dealing with the same challenges that we faced. My mom emailed me photos of Lily’s milestones: moving from bottles to food, scooting, and rolling around. After my husband printed the photos, the nurses would pass them around and exclaim over them. I never lost sight of the fact that I was fighting for Lily.

Today, we live far from my parents and sometimes don’t see them for months, but they are deeply bonded with Lily. We all learned a lesson about the fragility of life and the importance of embracing the moments we have.

I try to embrace the good things that came from my cancer diagnosis. One of those good things was the awareness of my village, a network of love support stretching from Boston to South Dakota and beyond. I am so thankful for all the wonderful things people did for my family and me.

To learn more about malignant mesothelioma, click here >>

Do you have a story to share? Send us an e-mail or leave us a note in the comments.

Puget Sound Race for the Cure

Guest Blogger and Breast Cancer Survior, Rebecca Seago-Coyle stands with Providence Regional Cancer System Breast Cancer Patient Navigator Andrea Potter, RN, CPPN-IC at the Susan G. Komen Puget Sound Race for the Cure.

Over $1 million was raised this year! Learn more about The Puget Sound Affiliate of Susan G. Komen for the Cure by clicking here >>

If you'd like to read Rebecca's story, Running through cancer, click here >>

And if you'd like to check out 7 'take charge' tips from Andrea, click here >>

2nd Annual Survivor Celebration provides connection and information

To honor cancer survivors and show that life after a cancer diagnosis can be meaningful, fulfilling, and even inspiring, the Providence Regional Cancer system hosted the 2^nd annual Cancer Survivor Celebration on Saturday, June 2 in Olympia.

About 200 people from the surrounding community attended this event - united in spirit with the 12 million cancer survivors across the country - to connect with each other, celebrate milestones, and recognize the health care providers, family and friends who have supported them along the way.

"Everything about the conference was excellent; the speakers, the sensitivity, sense of caring and the information," said an attendee.

Presentations:

• Natural Therapies for Post-Chemo and Radiation Symptoms by Chad Aschtgen, ND, FABNO.
• What's New in Diagnosis and Treatment: Cancer Biology by Rich Whitten, MD; Chemotherapy vs. Targeted Therapy by Jim Lechner, MD; and Radiation Therapy by Jim Raymond, MD.
• Family Conversations about Legal Concerns by Jonathan Sprouffske, JD.
• Cancer Survivorship and Quality FOR Life: Shaken, Stirred and Movin' On! by Brad Zebrack, PhD, MSW, MPH.
• Living Well with Cancer by Gregg VandeKieft, MD and Cobie Whitten, PhD.