Interviewed by: Taylor Scheib Edited by: Chris Sanchez
Brescia was only 20 when she was found to have early-stage Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
When her cancer was caught, Brescia was returning to America from a study stint in Italy and was on the verge of returning to college. Her primary care physician discovered a suspicious swelling in the side of her neck during a routine physical examination, and she was scheduled for an ultrasound. A subsequent biopsy confirmed her cancer.
Brescia’s diagnosis was unsettling, to say the least, but she found refuge in the things that bring her joy and fulfillment, including being creative, making movies, and enjoying nature.
Brescia and her family sat down with her team of doctors at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona to discuss her treatment options. They considered a combination of chemotherapy and radiation, but decided to go for 6 rounds of ABVD chemotherapy and no radiation, given her youth and the fact that radiation can have long-term side effects. Brescia ended up taking the whole semester off to focus on her treatment.
Brescia has been cancer-free for 5 years now. She is now a photographer and videographer and runs her own boutique agency. Looking back at the time she was ill, she notes how she gained a new appreciation for school as well as the simple things in her life, appreciates the perspective she gained after her illness, and shares the lessons she learned from her experience.
In addition to Brescia’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of stories about Hodgkin Lymphoma. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
Name: Brescia D.
Diagnosis:
Hodgkin Lymphoma
Initial Symptoms:
Swelling in the side of her neck
Treatment:
Chemotherapy: 6 rounds of ABVD
This interview has been edited for clarity. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.
Cancer details: Most common and most treatable form of Hodgkin lymphoma 1st Symptoms: Shortness of breath Treatment: 3 rounds (6 infusions) of ABVD chemo
Cancer details: Diagnosed at age 25 1st Symptoms: Swollen lump on right side of neck/chest area, continued to grow Treatment: ABVD chemotherapy (3 cycles = 6 infusions)
Interviewed by: Taylor Scheib Edited by: Chris Sanchez
When he was just 24, Josh was diagnosed with stage 3A testicular cancer.
Josh’s diagnosis came as a rude shock given his youth and excellent physical condition. He maintains a healthy lifestyle, has no vices, and loves to join triathlons. That said, he had been experiencing several symptoms for some months before his diagnosis, including pain in his torso and shortness of breath, which were easy to shrug off but in retrospect were suspicious.
Armed with a positive attitude, Josh decided to fight his cancer by undergoing chemotherapy. His doctors put him on 3 cycles of bleomycin, etoposide and cisplatin (BEP).
The succeeding months of Josh’s life were traumatic and difficult. Among other things, he experienced serious side effects, including a significant reaction to a medicine there was no substitute for. He also had to face the possibility of becoming infertile. However, his good attitude combined with successful treatments helped him get through those challenging days.
Josh now shares his story with us to grow awareness of testicular cancer and to fight the stigma attached to it; the importance of finding a community that can provide support, and of giving back to said community as well; and the significance of staying positive even when times get tough.
In addition to Josh’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of stories about testicular cancer. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
Name: Josh T.
Diagnosis:
Testicular cancer
Staging:
Stage 3A
Initial Symptoms:
Pain in his chest, lower back, and abdomen
Shortness of breath, especially during exercise
Mass found on one testicle
Treatment:
Chemotherapy: bleomycin, etoposide and cisplatin (BEP)
This interview has been edited for clarity. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.
Age at Diagnosis: 25 1st Symptoms: Grape-sized tumor on neck; hip and pelvis pain; ultrasound revealed tumor on right testicle Treatment: Chemotherapy (BEP), removal of right testicle, lymph node resection (RPLND), and tumor dissection in the neck
Age Diagnosed: 24 1st Symptoms: Fatigue, one swollen testicle Treatment: BEP chemotherapy, surgeries (including complications)
Steven C.Diagnosis: Non-Seminoma Testicular Cancer Symptoms: Enlarged left testicle, tenderness in left testicle, lump in back (retroperitoneum) Treatment: Orchiectomy, chemo, retroperitoneal lymph node dissection
Interviewed by: Taylor Scheib Edited by: Chris Sanchez
33 year-old Tiffany is undergoing treatment for stage 3A ovarian cancer.
Tiffany was about to embark on a yearlong trip when she received life-altering news, a cancer diagnosis. Her diagnosis not only forced her to postpone her trip, but also convinced her to undergo IVF egg retrieval in order to preserve her ability to have children later on.
Tiffany is in the midst of her ovarian cancer treatment and, as of her interview, was steeling herself to undergo major surgery. But she has many reasons to be positive about her future. She shares her story with us to help others in the same situation.
In addition to Tiffany’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of stories about ovarian cancer. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
Name: Tiffany L.
Diagnosis:
Ovarian cancer
Staging:
Stage 3A
Initial Symptoms:
Severe bleeding after insertion of IUD
Discomfort and pain after working out
Treatment:
Chemotherapy: Carboplatin and Taxol
Surgery: Total hysterectomy
This interview has been edited for clarity. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.
My biggest advice is to be really honest with yourself first.
Like, really checking in, are you feeling something or not?
Introduction
My name is Tiffany. I’m based in Austin, Texas. I’m 33 years old.
I love pole dancing, contortion, and I’m learning how to draw for fun, as well as watercolor in my free time.
I’ve been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, stage 3A.
Discovery and diagnosis
I was supposed to go travel abroad for a year in 2024, and was supposed to leave the first weekend of January. Didn’t want to carry a year’s supply of birth control with me, so I decided to get an IUD.
I had an annual exam at the gynecologist, just standard stuff, and then that was when I mentioned an IUD, and so we got that inserted. We did the normal stuff that you would do during the annual exam. The gynecologist didn’t find anything weird then.
At first, the IUD was fine, it wasn’t too painful or anything. About a week after it was inserted, I started bleeding like crazy.
I had my strings checked a month later, and that was okay, too, but I was bleeding a lot. It was like I was soaking through a heavy pad every hour or so. And so I just left it because it went away eventually.
But a couple weeks after the string check, I started bleeding a lot again, and I didn’t really stop bleeding until they took it out. I was having heavy bleeding, and then it would it would kind of slow down a bit.
It just went on for weeks. So that’s why I called them to double check to make sure it was okay.
I called them probably mid December or so. Because usually what happens is like, you call them and they just tell you, oh, it’s normal. It’s an adjustment period for the IUD, you’ll be okay. But I’m leaving in a few weeks. I need you to make sure this is okay before I go abroad.
So finally, they got back to me and they’re like, okay, we’re gonna do an ultrasound to check. I remember going in, I was like, I’m pretty sure this IUD is misplaced. I remember the sonographer going through everything. And then I looked at the screen and I saw this huge hole.
I can’t read the graphics, but I saw her face and I was like, what is going on? I’m pretty sure there’s something more than just this IUD problem. But she’s not able to tell me what’s happening because I don’t think she’s allowed to by law.
I almost was able to talk to the doctor right away, but then I actually had a work meeting, so I had to schedule it for I think the next day or something. I was just really anxious for 24 hours or so. And then the next day I went in and the doctor was like, hey, look, we found a gigantic cyst.
We don’t know what it is, the doctor said. I’m going to need to refer you to a gyno oncologist. Like I’m supposed to leave next week. Can I get an appointment right away? And she’s like, yeah, I’m gonna try to see if we can bump you up. And then she ran this blood test for the tumor marker, CA 125, that same day. So the new doctor can get all the results and stuff.
So I had an appointment I think the next week, right before I was supposed to leave. I was like, well, there’s a huge thing in me, regardless of it being cancer or not, I need to take this out. So I probably do have to postpone my trip. There’s no way, you know, this person can just take it out in a week. So, yeah, I postponed my trip.
In my head I was like, okay, maybe it’s just postponed for a few weeks or a month. Maybe I can head out in February or something, which is not a big deal. But by that time, I had already quit my job because that was the plan.
My last day of work was right before I was supposed to leave. It it just put me in a weird position because, I was like, well, I might leave soon anyway, so I guess it’s just like a month, I don’t need to get my job back. So I didn’t really bother with it. But also, it was just like a strange, in-between time where everything was up in the air.
So I went to the new doctor, the gyno oncologist. And she basically was like, I need to see an MRI. So I had to get that done the next week.
And then after that, the follow up appointment, she didn’t really say it was cancer or anything, actually, even though my blood work was over the chart, my CA 125 was like 4000 and the standard was like 35. So it was crazy high. But, different things can affect your CA 125, such as endometriosis, which I wasn’t diagnosed with. All I knew was that I had PCOS. [Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) is a hormonal disorder in reproductive-age women, causing infrequent or prolonged periods and elevated androgen levels.]
So when I talked to her after the MRI, she wasn’t definitive that it was cancer, but she wasn’t saying that it wasn’t either, because they don’t really tell you until they really go in there anyways. So she basically she knew that she had to take out the ovary that was attached to the tumor. But she asked me, if it’s cancer, what are your thoughts about having kids? Um, because if it’s cancer, usually they take everything out.
It took me a few days to get back to her because it was just so shocking to think about. We ended up deciding that we would keep the other ovary in there, even if it’s cancer, because we wanted to preserve my fertility and see if we could go through the IVF route.
Going into surgery, the doctor thought it’s probably borderline because it’s rare that someone in their 30s would have ovarian cancer. But, I mean, it could happen. She said that if it is borderline, then I probably wouldn’t need chemo. It ended up not being borderline.
What happened during surgery is that she took the tumor out with the ovary, and she said the tumor was hard to take out. It wasn’t like a solid tumor, where, she could just pick it up with the robot and take it away. It was mushy and weird, gross-sounding.
The surgery took five hours, I believe, which was way longer than I expected because, besides taking it out, she also had to wait for a biopsy to see if it’s cancer and then after it’s cancerous, she does surgical staging. So she would swipe samples of different areas of my pelvis. I think it was bladder, bowels, uterus.
She took the omentum out for biopsy to see if there’s any cancer cells there. So that’s also probably why it took five hours. I took up pretty much the rest of her afternoon, so I didn’t really see her until the next day. And that’s when she told me that, hey, it is cancer.
But we didn’t know the staging; we just know that it’s probably more than likely, more than stage two, based on what I saw in there, but not definitive. Two weeks later, during my post-op appointment, I got the report.
So the original report says there were cancer cells in the omentum. So that would put me in stage 3A. But there was another part of the report where they weren’t exactly sure where the origin site is for the cancer.
So they were suspecting that it’s either primary ovarian or possibly could be from the uterus or it’s synchronized cancer, because the type that I have was called an endometrioid ovarian cancer. That might come from endometriosis. So they are thinking that it could be synchronized, but for now they are treating it as a primary ovarian cancer.
So it’s like still not definitive in a way. A little strange because I think the staging changes depending on the primary side.
So if it’s ovarian primary, it’s like stage three, if it’s uterine primary and it’s in the omentum, that could put me in stage four. But then if it’s synchronized then it could be stage one for both. So it’s very confusing. The staging kind of tells you the prognosis, but then all the information data that they have are for like older women. So then it’s not like that information is for my population.
At this rate, like honestly, I don’t look at my prognosis because none of the data is very specific to my population.
So I went ahead and got a second opinion too, just because why not? Insurance covers it. And I got a second biopsy at MD Anderson. And the report came back the same.
So that’s a good thing, that it’s the same, I guess. Ultimately they’re not really going to be able to really find out exactly what it is until they take everything out.
Treatment plan
After the doctor told me about my ovarian cancer diagnosis, she gave me a treatment plan.
So I was going to be having three rounds of chemo, surgery to take everything out, and then three rounds again.
So the midway point for the surgery, they just wanted to get the chemo in me first, but because I already would have had three rounds of chemo by then, they might not be able to really biopsy enough. There might not be enough cancer cells there for them to find out what is really going on.
IVF
About a week after the report and discussing it with her, I started my IVF cycle, so I started freezing my embryos.
That wasn’t fun. It was a lot of injections, doctor’s appointments., and going back and forth, trying to get a discount.
My insurance didn’t cover the IVF cycle, so I had to look into different organizations that would provide discounts on the clinic. And there are discounts for cancer patients, I think in most clinics, at least mine did. And I was able to get help from Livestrong and the Heart Beat program with Walgreens.
The Heart Beat program basically gave me all the medication for free, which was really helpful because the medication itself, it’s like $10,000. And then the Livestrong also helped with the medication as well. It was like a 20% discount on certain things through the clinic.
I think we were fortunate in a sense, because I know a lot of women, they have to go through multiple cycles to freeze 1 or 2 embryos. We were lucky in a sense that we only had 1 shot, just 1 cycle before chemo started. We were able to freeze 8 embryos, which was amazing.
The clinic helped. They were the ones who told me about Livestrong. And they were the ones who applied on my behalf for the Walgreens Heart Beat program.
I think the complicated part, at least with my clinic, it was more like I wasn’t really sure who should be doing what part of the application process. It might have just been a clinic issue, but they weren’t very clear on who is starting? Am I the one applying directly or are they doing it on my behalf? So I had to do a little bit of work in that regards. But ultimately they were the ones who found the programs.
My doctor was the one who referred me to this clinic, so it seemed like she already had a relationship with the reproductive endocrinologist. So before I even went on my consultation, she already knew what was going on.
In terms of figuring out financially, I think we were fortunate in a way, because we had saved up for a trip and so we already had that nest there. If it wasn’t going to cost like that, we would have just done it anyways.
My husband and I, this has been a lot of discussion between like having kids or not. He’s the one that really wanted the kids. I was more like, could be maybe. Maybe not. It was just like, okay, might as well do this because if we don’t do it, we might regret it later.
This is a little bit morbid. If I, you know, pass away in 2 years, I felt at least I left something for my husband—a part of me there for him.
So, the IVF process. The first appointment was just discussing the different options. So I had the option of just freezing the eggs or embryos. But you still have to go through the IVF process. It essentially means they’re just taking the eggs out, the embryo part comes later.
During the process, they would monitor your follicles to see how they’re growing. Usually they want you to start, I think, like day 1 or 2 of your period. Um, I didn’t. I was on a timeline, so it didn’t pertain to me But I also luckily had my period the first day I saw her. So it kind of worked out in that sense.
So the first appointment, the doctor would check to see how many eggs are already there. In a way it was fortunate I had PCOS, so I had extra eggs. Apparently, if you have PCOS, it’s better for the process because you have more eggs.
Once she thinks you’re ready, you will start doing your injections. I did two medications, on my abdomen. The first injection was just so scary because you guess your spouse or someone could help you, but I just did it on my own. The medication helps grow the follicles.
I only had one ovary to do this, for others they might have two. But for my one ovary, she saw like 18 or something on there already. So they’re trying to grow everything at the same time essentially with the medication, but they don’t want you to grow it so fast, your ovary will get too big and then you will get hyper stimulating ovaries, which will cause a lot of pain.
They want to monitor you, every other day or so with blood work to check your estrogen level and also ultrasound. So I had to go to the clinic every other day. They gave me a different medication to start, to kind of balance it out so it doesn’t overgrow.
And then after about ten days, they decided that it was time for the trigger shot. They’re checking the size of each follicle. They want them all to be as big as possible. I think I had three that were like 20mm or something, I can’t remember. And that was when they decided it was time.
So then I did the trigger shot, and then the day after, they did the egg retrieval. During egg retrieval, they put me under, and then the process took like ten minutes.
And then they woke me up and they were like, we took out 22 eggs or something.
Treatment
Chemotherapy: Carboplatin and Taxol
Right after, a week after IVF, I started chemotherapy to deal with my ovarian cancer.
I got a week break between IVF and the chemo cycle. And I went back to Jersey for a wedding.
Okay, so the chemo regimen I’m on, it’s carboplatin and taxol. My chemo regimen is every 3 weeks. I would say it’s only bad the first week, and then it’s pretty much back to normal the next two weeks.
I did so much research before, I feel like I already knew everything before I started. And also, before chemo, they did like a chemo teach where I met with one of the physician’s assistants and they gave me a binder of information. So I already had an idea of what to expect.
Side effects
In terms of side effects, I think the major one is the hair loss. That pretty much happened after cycle 1 and throughout cycle 2 as well. But I think after cycle 1, I was just so anxious, I was like, I’m going to shave it off anyways. Just get it over with.
When I was reading online, I wanted to know when my hair loss would start. And most people said it would start about the second week. So I thought, I wish I knew that because I remember after the first, for like a week, I was just obsessive about my hair.
I would wake up and be like, are you going? Are you leaving me yet? And then when it was still here, I was like, oh my gosh, maybe I’m one of those lucky people. I wish I would have known that it really would start like after the second week.
I was never too attached to my hair. Or at least I thought so. Some women love their hair and they want it to look a certain way. I guess if I cut it and it’s ugly, I didn’t care too much, would be upset for a minute, and then I’d be like, okay, it’s gonna grow back. You’ll be fine.
When my hair started falling off, when I started seeing strands of hair on my pillow, It was just horrific to see that much hair coming out. I did get a little bit emotional. I think because I didn’t have that much time to process everything. Just seeing the hair kind of hit me in the face a little bit.
And then I felt really concerned about how I looked like without hair. I wasn’t sure if I would still feel attractive or if my husband was still find me attractive.
Ultimately, when I shaved my hair off, I was I was kind of surprised that, I thought, I still look good without the hair. I went on a lot of shopping sprees, just for new styles and wigs and makeup stuff. So I think that kind of helped.
Right now, I have days where I’m like, I really miss my hair. Especially like when I go out and I see people with beautiful hair, I’m like, oh, I really miss having hair.
But then most of the other days I’m just like, oh, how would this look on me now? I feel like I get to play a little bit with a different style. And then sometimes I’m also kind of like, I wonder what style is going to stick after this is over. Maybe I’ll adopt some of these new things.
So other side effects have mostly been swollen hands. I’m also having a slight neuropathy, only on my index finger. Very strange. And then a little bit of brain fog, but that tends to fade away after the first week.
Surgery: total hysterectomy
So my next milestone in my ovarian cancer journey, I guess, is my surgery. That’s coming up on May 20th. I get 4 weeks in between surgery and chemo, which means I get an extra week to play.
So the surgery I’m getting will be a total hysterectomy. They’re going to be taking out my remaining ovary, my uterus, the fallopian tube that attaches to the ovary, and my cervix as well.
I am incredibly anxious about it, because once they take out that ovary, that puts me in surgical menopause. And for women that are in forced menopause, I’m high-risk later on for osteoporosis as well as heart disease.
Not to mention, I’ve been reading a lot of other women’s experiences that are around my age, mostly breast cancer survivors. It sounds like there’s like a thing called vaginal atrophy that will happen or might happen as well.
Also, all the other stuff that comes with menopause, like hot flashes. I’m very, very scared just about what might happen.
Also they say that sometimes you don’t get those symptoms right away. So it’s not like I’m gonna wake up and it happens. It might take a few weeks before it happens.
They haven’t really talked to me about post-surgery. I just know I get a 4-week break and then I go back for chemo, but I do believe it’s the same chemo.
… don’t brush away that little voice that’s telling you something is probably wrong.
Shifts and learnings
Support
I felt like because of my ovarian cancer situation, everyone was extra nice to me. I would say I’m very fortunate, because everyone is being so supportive.
My mom lives in Jersey and flies here every cycle to help me out, and my husband has been very supportive, too. My friends like giving me rides and everything, too.
I think it’s going pretty well for what it is.
Realizations
So when I look back, I do feel like I had the symptoms of ovarian cancer, I definitely ignored them. I do crazy workouts, so, yeah, I’m going to be like, there’s some tightness there or I just kind of brushed it off. but when I look back, I was kind of in pain.
I was remembering how there were days after I trained and I would be like, wow. Training really hurt today. And I really don’t want to do this post because it’s putting a lot of pressure in my abdomen and it’s really pretty uncomfortable. But I just brushed it away.
And so I think that if I did not get that IUD, I think it would have gotten me eventually, Because I’m young and healthy. I didn’t think of it as anything. I mean, I didn’t really bring it to the doctor or anything, but even, like, with the whole IUD thing, I felt like I had to really push for them to, take a look at it. And so, it is very important, don’t brush away that little voice that’s telling you something is probably wrong.
I think it’s mostly realizing, this sucks, but I still get to do so much cool stuff later on. Hopefully.
It sucks that I didn’t get to travel, but after this, maybe I can I can travel again, but it’s gonna look a little bit different than I planned because I’m not going to be able to just leave for a year now because of all the monitoring that they do. Kind of realizing that I’m still going to be able to see everything.
But I honestly think what has really gotten me through this is just me on the pole. Because I’m still able to pole dance, and contort, which I don’t understand how sometimes. So that has been pretty incredible, very helpful as well. Like for my mental health, too.
But I think what shifted in the way I’m thinking about it is to just appreciate what I can do, versus going after certain things and being frustrated with it. So I kind of see it in like a new perspective. Oh, I just took a class, and then I never looked back. Yeah.
Pole dancing is like a challenge. I love it because as long as you put the work or the training, the time into it, you will see results. And it’s like a way to express yourself in whatever way you want it to be.
So it doesn’t have to be sexy. It could be like emotional. It could be very athletic or just like, whatever you want. And I really love it for the art form and also for the physical challenge. And also the pole community is incredible. I made so many friends off of it, and it’s just a great place.
Advice
My biggest advice from everything that I’ve learned in my ovarian cancer journey is to be really honest with yourself first. Like, really checking in, are you feeling something or not? Even if the doctor thinks you’re being a little too much, just push them to do something because you never know.
And then really do your research before going to the doctor, because, hopefully you have a good doctor, but, if you don’t, you have the knowledge to back up what you are suspecting. And then be very assertive as to what you’re asking them for.
I would say something like, hey, I have a concern with this. Can we do a scan or something, instead of having them lead the way? You kind of want to almost lead the conversation instead.
And then also be honest with them as to what you’re feeling, too, because I think sometimes people brush away symptoms because they’re scared of what it could be. It’s better to know what it is and deal with it earlier versus later.
Interviewed by: Taylor Scheib Edited by: Chris Sanchez
61-year-old Tim, who hails from Lexington, KY, is being treated for multiple myeloma.
An elite cyclist in his youth and still striving to be active and live healthy, Tim and his family were blindsided by his surprise diagnosis with multiple myeloma in the course of treatment for a gallbladder infection. Tim refused to succumb to depression and anger and, upon his doctors’ advice, chose to undergo chemotherapy and stem cell transplants.
Thanks to his treatments, support from his family and friends, and overall can-do attitude, Tim faces each day with positivity and hope. He shares his story with us to help others who may be facing the same situation.
In addition to Tim’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of stories about multiple myeloma. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
Name: Tim H.
Diagnosis:
Multiple myeloma
Initial Symptoms:
None that could be identified; cancer found through CT scan for emergency gallbladder removal
Treatment:
Chemotherapy: Revlimid, Velcade, and Dexamethasone; Darzalex, Kyprolis, and Dexamethasone; Melphalan (preparatory for stem cell transplant)
Stem cell transplant
This interview has been edited for clarity. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.
You’ve got to look for hope. And you’ve got to look for help.
Introduction
My name is Tim, and I currently live in Lexington, KY. I’m in my 60s. I’m married and we have kids.
I work full time, and I also have a side business. We live on a on a small farm here in Kentucky. We have a few dogs that we like to play with. I have some old cars I like to work on. And I also try to exercise as much as possible.
In my youth, I was an elite cyclist. I’ve continued riding throughout my life.
In the late summer of 2022, I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma. It was devastating news. But it’s almost a couple of years now and things are going quite well. My family has been very supportive and we’re trying to make the best of it.
Initial “symptoms”
I actually feel I was asymptomatic.
In the late summer of 2022, I turned 60. I had never been in a hospital for any form of stay up until that point. I broke bones and, you know, had gone for stitches and things like that. But I’ve never had a hospital stay.
For about a year prior to that I was having a lot of stomach problems, but they were not very consistent. They were sporadic and sometimes months apart. And in actuality, they had nothing to do with my multiple myeloma diagnosis.
Discovery and diagnosis
In August of 2022, my wife and I were in Colorado camping to celebrate my birthday, and I started having some severe stomach problems.
About 3:00 a.m. at the start of Labor Weekend, I was in excruciating pain. At about 5:30 a.m. or so, my wife and I drove over to the emergency room and they let me in. I got seen really quickly.
They went through the normal questions, asked where the pain was and everything and said, do you still have your gallbladder? Push comes to shove, and it ends up being a severe infection in my gallbladder.
While I’m there, they’re running all the tests. They put me on some heavy painkillers and we wait and they come back eventually after quite a number of hours and say, okay, we’ve run our tests. You know, we’ve contacted a surgeon we’ve scheduled, we’ve determined that your gallbladder is very infected, you’ve got several severely large gallstones. And tomorrow we’ll go in for surgery to have those removed.
And by the way, while we were doing your CT scan, the technician noticed some things. So we will be contacting our oncologist on call to come in and have a discussion with you. We see some lesions and we think it might potentially be a few things. One of them being multiple myeloma.
At which point I looked at my wife and I’m like, did he just say they’re going to bring an oncologist in? Completely random and out of the blue. I admit I was still doped up, so I don’t think it had quite the effect that one might expect, but it was pretty startling to hear that.
So they ended up keeping me in the hospital for five days. My infection was pretty bad, and they were waiting for it to clear, but they also were running parallel tests, protein tests and such to see what they can do.
At the end of my stay, they were pretty sure that’s what it was.
I was released and then scheduled to come back a couple of days later for a bone marrow biopsy. They did the biopsy.
And then I met with the oncologist and he said, the results show that, you know, you from what you see, you have about a 25% coverage in your bone marrow. So we’re going to start scheduling your treatments. So that was at the end of September.
Multiple myeloma really messed with my head after having a full life of good health.
But you cannot put me in a downward spiral.
Reaction
There are aches and pains in my life. You know, my back has never felt great for 15 years. I don’t think any of those things were related to my multiple myeloma diagnosis.
And so it was really out of the blue and you just get dumbfounded to begin with that somebody would say that to you.
I’m like, how can I? How can I have a multiple myeloma diagnosis? I feel other than my gallbladder problems, I feel perfectly fine. I mean, I didn’t feel tired. Really didn’t feel anything like that.
But then you start worrying, of course. Especially when, you know, you start talking to your doctor, the oncologist, and I started meeting with a secondary oncologist, so I have my primary oncologist who does my treatments. And then I have a secondary oncologist at the University of Kentucky, where they decided that it would be best to do my stem cell transplant.
So when I met with them and it’s a teaching hospital, so they’ve got fellows and students there and everything while you’re being diagnosed and, you know, they can be pretty frank about some things as well. And they didn’t really sugarcoat much.
When they talked about what we can expect from this and how my multiple myeloma was not curable. They can basically prolong things for a while, but inevitably, as the fellow put it, this is going to be end up being what causes your death eventually. Unless obviously something comes along and whatnot, you get hit by the proverbial bread truck.
Multiple myeloma really messed with my head after having a full life of good health.
But you cannot put me in a downward spiral.
Choice of treatment
My doctor gave me a choice.
At the beginning it was, listen, here’s a couple of different pathways we can take. We can do multiple myeloma treatments continuously. And then when your numbers go down, we can put you on a monthly and hopefully maintain it that way. Then you can go through a stem cell transplant. And hopefully that will add a number of years onto the end. That might not be there if we just do treatments without a transplant.
Now he really didn’t have the numbers to back that up. They’re not far enough into, I think, the collective that they can really show one way or another. But it’s again, I mean, it’s a daunting thing to think about the transplant and what that might mean. But it was the best avenue. It seemed to get the best quality and length out of what time I had.
So at the beginning of October I started my multiple myeloma treatment.
Treatment
After I was diagnosed, my oncologist said, we should start treatment. We want to get you in right away.
But my wife and I asked if we could prolong a week, go away for a little bit and come back and start the treatment. It was our anniversary coming up within a couple of days. They said yes.
In the interim, they sent me the list of treatment dates and what I would be getting.
Chemotherapy: Revlimid, Velcade, and Dexamethasone; Revlimid
So I was treated twice a week. Twice a week, and then revlimid 14 days on and seven off up until mid-December, when I started having a reaction to it. I ended up with a three-quarter body rash from my chest down.
I was also not reacting to it well enough. My protein levels were coming down very slowly, much slower than they really wanted to see.
Chemotherapy: Darzalex, Kyprolis, and Dexamethasone
At the beginning of the year, they moved me over to a darzalex, kyprolis, and dexamethasone treatment, which I actually liked a lot better because it was only once a week, and then you get like a week off or and whatnot.
I reacted to that much better. I came down very quickly in protein levels.
So by April, I had slotted in for the mid-May stem cell transplant. So they stopped my multiple myeloma chemotherapy at the end of April.
Pre-stem cell transplant procedures: Melphalan chemotherapy and vaccinations
I took a couple of weeks to start getting ready for the transplant, have a chest catheter put in, and do the tests that they require to make sure you’re a valid candidate for the transplant, which I was; and then extraction of stem cells from my blood via the catheter; and then cryogenic storage of these cells.
And then I went in for chemo with melphalan to basically kill everything in my bone marrow.
After that, interestingly, I needed to get all my childhood vaccinations again.
So one of the things that the pre-stem cell transplant does is it necessitates you getting all your childhood vaccines all over again, because that protection is no longer there.
I thankfully did not have much of a reaction. I’ve heard some people tell some pretty gnarly stories about it.
I went in for my infusion and they’re like, okay, we’ll have your vaccines for you. So the nurses lined up on either side of me and then just did a countdown, and then they all just did the shots all at once.
I think they do that just to keep people’s anxiety down and such. I had some reactions of soreness and whatnot, but nothing really major.
And I had the transplant the day after that.
Stem cell transplant
The 18th of May is my rebirth day coming up. It’s going to be here in a few weeks.
Stem cell transplant sounds like a severely complicated procedure, but in reality I was amazed at how uncomplicated it can be.
After the pre-transplant procedures I described, the day afterwards, they reintroduce your frozen stem cells into your body. And then they basically replicate or grown, you’re given some other medications to agitate them quite a bit.
So they replicate fairly quickly, and then it raises your white blood count, the blood count rate and such. The idea here is that when you’re reduced to the level that myeloma is fairly undetectable in your marrow, and then the new cells are reintroduced, it will help combat them from coming back.
I got thrown straight into things like bone marrow biopsies, things where they cycle the blood out of your body, extract the cells, put it back in, and that itself is like a five hour procedure for three days each day where you’re just lying there while it’s done. That was freaky, to put it mildly.
And then the transplant itself. So they just start reintroducing the stem cells they previously extracted back into your body through the chest catheter.
I’m not a needle guy. Like I’ve spent the last almost a year, year and a half or so of having blood taken all the time, having IVs all the time and all this stuff. And I’ve never liked that at all. But now it’s just a fact of life.
My former boss, when this first started, he was like, well, what’s the alternative? So, I just kind of learned how to deal with it.
I think if you look at it, it’s probably very disturbing to a lot of people to see things like that, but maybe it’s the disturbing things that people need to see to help them along their way, to understanding that they should not let these things go. You know, go for your colonoscopy, go when things don’t feel right.
My transplant experience wasn’t much fun, mostly from the chemotherapy. Had a lot of issues with my stomach and the general feeling that you get just from the chemotherapy itself, because it is such a high dose.
I was in the hospital for three weeks. I started off with the transplant on day one, and then they kept me in the hospital for three weeks. Felt completely and utterly lousy all the time. Just severe tiredness, nausea, that kind of stuff.
Couldn’t sleep. Had a lot of things like leg cramps and just odd muscle pains, which, they medicated me for, but you’re just lying in bed at night because you can’t sleep. And your mind is going a thousand miles an hour.
I mean, you’re trying to get sleep, but they’re running tests every x number of hours. So you’re sort of asleep and they’re coming in and drawing from you through your catheter and things. So you never really get a real full rest.
Release from hospital and recuperation at home
So I was released. Went home. Was severely fatigued for a while.
It took a while to build up, I think until about the middle of July when I started to feel better. I felt like I was cheating because I’m like, I should feel worse than I do at this point. But I had just started treatment again in the middle of July and I still feel good.
I get tired. I have neuropathy. Shins on down. That’s bothersome, but I’m perfectly capable of doing all the things I like to do. I ride all the time. I work around the house and such.
That time during the hospital stay and right after the month or so after were really rough, a lot of lot of sleep, a lot of lying on the couch. I was still working.
Other than my time in the hospital, I’ve been working full time while this is going on. I manage web operations for a firm, so it’s not physically demanding.
It was a little rough; chemo fog and things, you know, it was a little tough putting words together sometimes. But my boss knew, the heads of the company knew, they were very supportive. And the sharpness came back, thankfully. And I can talk normally again.
After the transplant, there were a couple of months where I didn’t really have anything. And then I started with my maintenance chemo for my multiple myeloma at the end of July.
So I’m on darzalex and faspro once a month, and then every third month is zometa. I’m guessing it’s going to be like that for a bit more.
I’m just at the moment getting subcutaneous shots once a month and then every third visit is a matter for bone health. So that doesn’t bother me so much, but the meds they’re giving me can leave you feeling kind of funky for a little bit.
It’s a belly shot. Nobody’s favorite thing to do, and like I said, it leaves me feeling flu-like for several days. I also get a high dose of dexamethasone on those days, so I get that lovely steroid reaction.
If you think about the fact that there are still a lot of things to experience in this life and a lot of people that want you to be around, that gives you the hope to really continue on with things that just seem really daunting.
Moving forward
My general idea here is I’ll be on maintenance for my multiple myeloma for probably another year. And then they will see where my numbers are. If my numbers are still responding, then hopefully we’ll be able to go off maintenance.
It eventually becomes something that you accept. And you learn that it’s just going to be a part of your life.
For instance, like I mentioned, I don’t mind doctors and I’ve always had blood drawn and whatnot. But it’s still a bothersome experience for me no matter how many times it’s done. But it’s just something I’m going to have to accept as part of my life from now on.
And at some point somebody’s going to say. The multiple myeloma numbers are jumping back up again, and we’re going to have to start all this all over again. And I’ve accepted that that’s going to happen sometime in my future.
Hopefully it doesn’t happen for a while because there are some things that I still want to do. But do I wish that that they had the things in place to eradicate? Sure. But I know that they don’t. And I mean, just like most other cancers, there’s really not much you can do about multiple myeloma.
Fortunately, they’ve got enough treatments in place that as my oncologist refers to it, he says it’s just a treatable illness right now. There are others out there that are less fortunate in that respect.
So it’s kind of a two-sided sword there that you have to deal with. It does get you at the point where you start wondering, do I have everything in place that I need for my multiple myeloma treatment? You know, that was that’s part of the spiraling that I think happens right after diagnosis. My kids, my wife, all that.
What’s going to happen there? As I mentioned before, I’m very fortunate. My family is extremely supportive. My wife has been a trooper through this whole thing. I had a chest catheter in that had to be cleaned every day. She took care of that. It’s not something I could do, but she did.
She’s been with me to all the treatments. She wanted to be there in the hospital. They wouldn’t let her during my transfer. I mean, she was there during the transplant, but she couldn’t stay there.
I still have a lot of things I want to do. I’m not ready to give up on some things there. I guess it’s one aspect of my personality that has always been with me in my whole life. You know, you can have daunting things happen to you, whether they be financial or family or medical or anything like that. And you can give up. There’s that possibility that you’re just gonna throw in the towel.
And again, I don’t want to give up living life as long as I can, my multiple myeloma notwithstanding. So for me, I still plan out pretty far. And, you know, I’ll be honest, sometimes I’m thinking about things and it’s like, whoa, wait, why am I doing this? I should just be like, planning short term or something. But it’s just my personality. I just don’t want to give up. I’m not much for giving up.
So I still keep thinking long term in the future. I think that again could be personality, but it also I think is a learned thing that you don’t give up.
If you think about the fact that there are still a lot of things to experience in this life and a lot of people that want you to be around, that gives you the hope to really continue on with things that just seem really daunting.
Because I’ve been doing this for so long, I still plan out training plans for my riding, even though there’s really no end goal other than being able to do it and such. And there are days when, I have something planned, a workout or whatnot, and I wake up and I’m gung-ho. But by midday, it’s just too overwhelming. And I can just sit on the couch, you know, and that that would be perfectly fine.
I have trouble riding for a couple of days after my treatment just due to the fact that it’s an abdomen shot. They’re sometimes a little uncomfortable. So I just usually plan on not doing anything at that point in time.
But I think more than anything, it is doing something for yourself that can help you build strength both in mind and in body. That is just paramount for me.
I was riding all the way up until shortly before my stem cell transplant. I don’t ride every day, I try to get 3 or 4 times a week. Most of it is indoor training, except for the weekends. You know, if it’s nice, I try to get outside, but I have to be careful because I haven’t had a CT scan done since the originals, but I had lesions all throughout my femur, pelvis and lower spine.
And so the threat of fracture and things is extremely high. So I do have to be careful about that. I live in the country, so I don’t encounter much traffic. And I don’t go out for five hours at a time like I used to. If I get an hour and a half in, it makes me very happy.
But I find that even though you get really tired from the exercise, the end result is that you feel fatigued less from the treatments. Helps keep the weight down, helps with my blood pressure and such. It was it was pretty high from some of the treatments that I had. I was actually on blood pressure meds at the beginning of the year for a while because it seemed like I was having a little bit of a reaction. But I don’t have to do that anymore. That’s really good.
Because those have all hosted side effects as well And I just liked being out there and doing something for me. You know, I don’t have to think about work or any of those things, I can be out there just enjoying sunshine and wind and sometimes rain.
… I’m not going to hide my multiple myeloma again.
You don’t want it to be hidden if you could help somebody.
Lessons and takeaways
Once I got out of the hospital, the first couple of days, as I said, were really rough, were just spent on the couch, but I forced myself to get up and do things.
I would go for small walks around the neighborhood. It was very tiring, but being outside, being in the sun, getting air was very important.
And then continuously as I started feeling better, doing more and more. I started off just kind of shuffling around, but I worked up to half hour walks in the next couple of months and just being outside and seeing the flowers and things and just reminding yourself of what you know there is to experience in life.
I feel like also eating correctly is paramount to making sure that you recover well. My wife has celiac, and we don’t do a lot of processed food because of that. I made bread for her, all kind of things like that. Lots of vegetables. We eat a lot of beef and get a lot of protein that way. I can usually tell when I don’t think I eat well, how badly it makes me feel now.
I drink a lot of water and hydrate very well. And they were all adamant about hydrating because we’re putting all this stuff in you and you got to get it back out. The longer it stays in there, the worse you may feel. And it’s even now I have maintenance once a month. It’s still a thing to deal with. It’s mostly flu like kind of symptoms.
Another thing that I’ve found has been so important is to lean heavily on loved ones, family and such.
A lot of people, myself included, are very much, “I should be able to handle this myself. I shouldn’t have to bother other people for something that is my responsibility.” Meaning, it’s my multiple myeloma. It’s not their illness. Why do I have to bother anybody else about it? My dad, who’s still alive, he’s 92. And he’s battling his own battles with skin cancer.
At the beginning of this, I’ve been very open with everybody about my multiple myeloma . As I mentioned, I brought it to the attention of the people at work, even though, technically, I don’t have to. I think it’s very important.
And my dad was wondering, why are you telling people this? Shortly after my diagnosis, I made a post on Instagram and it got shared and some of my friends and family and whatnot reached out. “I was very surprised to hear that you did this.”
But I’m not going to hide my multiple myeloma again. You don’t want it to be hidden if you could help somebody.
Get people to realize or open their eyes that there might be something going on in themselves. Again, multiple myeloma is a disease that is usually not caught until it’s pretty far in, until the point where you can’t work, can’t walk. Or you break a bone bending over or turning over in bed or something like that, because your bones have been eaten away by the disease. At which point, it becomes so much harder just to do anything about it.
So again, if you’ve just been diagnosed with multiple myeloma, don’t be afraid to rely on those around you to help you. You know, if it hadn’t been for my wife helping me with these things, I don’t know what I would have done. You know, if she wasn’t there to help me clean the catheter or just help me when I couldn’t move. Making meals when I couldn’t get up. She put up with my massive dexamethasone treatments every week– shortness of temperament and such.
You’ve got to look for hope. And you’ve got to look for help.
You know, at this point it’s like, okay, I have this journey that I was basically documenting, but I’m like, now what do I do? I feel okay, but I’ve started thinking about it more and more.
And one of the things I’d like to do is get more involved in the cancer world and helping people. Just like we’re doing now. Learn how to answer questions. Deal with it because you’ve been through it.
Again, I’m not hiding my multiple myeloma. I’m trying to be open about it. I feel like I’ve learned a bunch of things, experienced a bunch of things.
So I have no objections to being very open about things that have gone on with me in this. It’s looking for all kinds of avenues to help wherever I can.
Interviewed by: Taylor Scheib Edited by: Chris Sanchez
Andrea, a nurse practitioner from Spokane, WA, got through stage 3 colorectal cancer.
Andrea’s symptoms began when she was about 7 months pregnant with her son—bloody stool and lower back pain and pressure, progressing to more serious symptoms like rectal pain during childbirth and as many as 20 bloody bowel movements daily—but she was consistently told that they were due to her pregnancy. A colonoscopy, done after the symptoms progressed significantly and her husband was able to get some help, finally diagnosed her stage 3 colorectal cancer.
Treatment–chemotherapy, radiation and surgery–as well as a lot of support, a can-do attitude, and self-advocating, eventually helped Andrea get better. Her story isn’t without some twists and complications, though, most especially an agonizing period during which she thought her colorectal cancer might have progressed to stage 4. Thankfully, this was a false alarm: she was actually already cancer-free, and she remains so to this day.
In addition to Andrea’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of stories about colorectal cancer. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
Name: Andrea P.
Diagnosis:
Colorectal cancer
Staging:
Stage 3
Initial Symptoms:
Frequent bloody stool
Lower back pain and pressure
Rectal pain
Severe stomach cramps
Treatment:
Chemotherapy: 5-FU
Radiation treatment
Surgery
This interview has been edited for clarity. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.
… I was chosen to go through this fight so I could help bring awareness to other people.
We were chosen for a reason, and we need to be strong through this fight.
Introduction
I’m Andrea, I’m from Spokane, WA. I’m 34 years old.
I am a nurse practitioner. I was a nurse for a long time, going on about ten years. And then I went to nurse practitioner school, and now I’m a nurse practitioner in the emergency department. I also was a nurse educator for some time, so I taught nursing students.
I’m married; my husband is a nurse anesthetist who works at one of the local hospitals. We have two beautiful kids: our daughter is going on 5, and our son who’ll be 3 this year.
If I’m not working, I love working out, going to one of our local gyms. We do CrossFit, and that’s like my hobby. It is like my home away from home. Working out, doing those things and spending time with my family and spending time with my friends. I have a really close group of girlfriends, and we tend to do a lot of our little girl’s nights.
I think I’ve been much more outgoing since I’ve been diagnosed and not holed up in my house; I used to be such an introvert. Like, I just want to stay home. I don’t want to go do anything. But after this I’m like, no, I want to go do all the things.
Initial symptoms
My colorectal cancer story starts when I was about 7 months pregnant with my son in June 2021. That’s when I started noticing blood in my stool.
The doctors shrugged it off. Because of my pregnancy, they said it was normal. You can have hemorrhoids, they said. So I didn’t think anything of it.
But it just kept getting worse. I started to have a lot of lower back pain, as well as this feeling of back pressure. I always felt like I needed to go to the bathroom.
Even then, I was told that it was because my baby was sitting really low. He’s sitting posterior, they shrugged. Just pregnancy stuff.
I gave birth to my son on August 9. While I was in labor, I was having an incredible amount of rectal pain. I remember telling my husband, gosh, this hurts so bad—there’s no way this is just a hemorrhoid. I was having contractions back to back, but they paled in comparison to the pain.
Give me the epidural to take the pain away, I said to my husband. Again I was told that it was because the baby’s just sitting very low. But I had had a daughter before, and I knew that this was completely different.
Come October and November, I started to have even worse symptoms. Each and every bowel movement was bloody—worse, sometimes all I would be excreting would be blood. I was having 15, 20 bowel movements a day that were just blood.
I asked my OB to refer me to a GI doctor in Spokane. While they did get me in relatively quickly, in November, once again, my symptoms were only chalked up to pregnancy.
I was told: you’re way too young. You just had a baby. You have a bunch of hormones going through you. You’ve had hemorrhoids. Basically just dismissing my concerns. But at least I did get them to commit to a colonoscopy at the end of December or the start of January.
But something happened in December that sped things up. I was at my cousin’s basketball game, and I had a sudden really severe stomach cramp. And I went to the bathroom and it was all blood clots, the worst one I’ve had. It was just bright red blood with dark red clots.
My husband contacted one of the GI docs that he works with and was like, listen, no one’s taking my wife seriously. Can we please get her in? And the GI doctor went, bring her in next week. I’ll scope her right away.
And December 20th is when I got my colonoscopy and colorectal cancer diagnosis.
Diagnosis and Reaction
I was 32 years old when I was diagnosed with stage 3 colorectal cancer.
Going into the colonoscopy, I knew it would be cancer deep down. But my husband was so reassuring and supportive; he told me I shouldn’t think like that. So when I went in for the colonoscopy, I actually wasn’t terrified or even anxious.
But when I woke up from the anesthesia, the doctor came over to me. He said: there’s a really big mass there. I’m so sorry.
And I think in that moment, I was like: there’s no way this is my real life. You think it will never happen to you, but it does. The thought in my head was: is it everywhere?
My son was 4 months old at that point in time. My daughter was about to be 3 or 4 years old. I was like, am I even going to see my son turn 1? I was in the middle of nurse practitioner school. Why even finish school? Shouldn’t I just spend as much time as I can with my kids?
I remember the first thing we did was call my mom, who was watching my kids, and I couldn’t even tell her. My husband had to tell her. I got on the phone to my best friend, and I told her. And then I had to FaceTime four of my best friends who knew that I was going in for the colonoscopy.
I could die next month, I remember thinking. It is the most terrifying, sickening feeling. The diagnosis really put things in perspective.
I’m thankful that when my diagnosis came out, my doctor really took charge. The doctor came over and said, we’re getting this looked at today. I’ve already scheduled you for an MRI. I’m getting you a CT scan today. I’ve already talked to an oncologist, a surgeon, a radiation oncologist. I’m not letting you leave until we have a plan for you today.
It was a really long day that day because my colonoscopy was in the morning, and then I had to go through the CT, go through the MRI. Luckily, the doctor fixed it up so that the radiologist would read those scans when I was there.
So I was able to find out quickly via my CT scan that there were no other masses anywhere at that point. The MRI did show the tumor and some lymph nodes, but it didn’t show any masses anywhere else. So I felt some relief that, okay, so far it hasn’t spread.
I went home and all I wanted to do was be around my kids, but at the same time, I didn’t want them to see how upset I was. My mom was trying to hold it together and she was having a hard time.
I tried to be normal, but I hadn’t eaten or drank in that day, so I ended up getting so sick that I ended up having to go to the ER for fluids because I couldn’t keep anything down and kept vomiting profusely. I also think I cried every ounce of water that I had in my body out.
So I ended up calling one of the girls I worked with, and she actually snuck me into the E.R. One of the doctors who is a good friend also knew, as well as the provider who took care of me. That level of support was really nice.
Treatment
Chemotherapy and radiation
My colorectal cancer treatment was a whirlwind of “let’s get your appointments going”.
So I actually got called by the radiation oncologist the very next day and they were like, we want to get you in today. We’re going to map everything out for your radiation.
And then I got called from the oncology office and they said, we want to see you today to go over what your plan is going to look like. And so I ended up going to the oncologist that next day, and, he mapped everything out for me.
He said, we’re going to start with radiation, where you’re going to go under 28 treatments of radiation. And while you’re going radiation, you’re going to have a chemo pump. So you’re going to have continuous chemotherapy infusing. And then once you complete those treatments, then you take a week break from the chemo.
Then you do eight intensive treatments of chemotherapy where you come in and get the four hour infusions. After that, you have surgery.
And after your chemo, we rescan you, we remap and see what your tumor is doing. There is a possibility that if your tumor is gone, you don’t have to have surgery.
But I was like, absolutely not. You’re taking that thing out. We’re not watching and waiting for anything. I had already made my mind up that I was going to have surgery.
So I went to the radiation oncologist later that day and got mapped. So he tattooed my back, my abdomen, mapped where they were going to do the radiation treatments. And then I think the day or two after Christmas, I went and got a port placed for all of my treatment.
And I started treatment January 3rd. So really very quickly, I started my first radiation treatment, and then they hooked me up to the pump that I had to wear 24 -7.
Initially the GI doc said, surgery first. But then when I talked to the oncologist he said, typically if it’s stage one, if it’s just this isolated tumor that hasn’t gone into the lymph nodes, we would do surgery where we cut the tumor out and then we do like a clean up chemo. But mine was very eroded. If I would have waited a couple more months, I probably would have had a perforated colon, that’s how bad it was.
And because I had lymph node involvement, we needed to get the chemo in there and kill what we can. The radiation was to kill the tumor, and the chemo was to stop the tumor cells that were floating around from duplicating and so on. That’s why I had to do the chemo and radiation before the surgery.
Surgery
I underwent a pretty major surgical procedure. They basically went in and dissected the entire tumor, plus did a few things on one side of the tumor and then the other side to make sure that it gets all taken out.
Then they did a temporary ileostomy, where they basically take my colon and bring it out through my stomach to let my surgery site heal. I had to have that for 8 to 10 weeks.
I had to be in the hospital for a couple days, just to make sure that everything was working, and that was the first surgery. And then I had that ileostomy for about 8 to 10 weeks, and then I had to go in and have it reversed.
So they go in and they just basically put my colon back together without that tumor in it. And that surgery was actually a little bit more intense. It was much more painful, even though it was a shorter surgery, and I was in the hospital for about two nights with that one too.
When I got told about the ileostomy, you know, my initial thoughts were like, I don’t care. Do it. I just was in that mindset. Do what you need to do to get me better, I don’t care.
But when I actually came home with the ileostomy, it was a very big mental block for me. I felt like I didn’t want to go out in public since I found it disgusting. I never minded taking care of them on other people, but I never thought that I would have to have one.
And I remember the first day that the home health nurse came over to help me figure out how to change the bag and stuff. I couldn’t do it. My husband had to do it because I was so emotionally distraught from it. And my husband actually just said, you don’t ever have to look at this. I will take care of it for as long as you have it. It took me a couple of weeks to finally get used to it.
And actually one of my preceptors for school has an ileostomy and he and I actually became really good friends. And I remember when I found out I was going to have one, he was like, hey, I got your back. I’m going to walk you through this whole thing. I’ve had mine for years. And he was such a big supporter.
He would talk me through it. He’s like, this is just part of our lives now. He was a big reason why I think I did so well with it, because I had him just there, supporting me through it.
And he knew what it was like to have one knowing that it wasn’t permanent. There is an end in sight.
And when I got it reversed, I just remember the doctor being like, okay, it’s getting reversed, but I’m just telling you right now, it’s not going to be a walk in the park. We have removed a lot of your nerve endings, your colon has basically been asleep for weeks. Basically, you might have to potty train yourself again. And I was like, maybe I don’t want it reversed, maybe I just want to keep it.
And so when I had the second surgery, I remember I was in so much pain, I can’t even remember being like, oh, it’s gone. I just was like, get this pain taken care of. Definitely having it reversed was worse than having it placed. And that took a mental toll on me for sure.
Side effects
So the side effects of the radiation, I didn’t have too many. The most significant was fatigue from the radiation, which was insane. More fatigue than I had when I was pregnant with my son, when I was 12 weeks pregnant and I got Covid. The fatigue from the radiation felt maybe 20 times more than that.
I also had a lot of back pain, aches in my pelvis.
They also had said that we’re radiating your uterus, your ovaries, you’re not going to be able to have any more children. They did give me a chance: we can do what’s called an ovarian transposition, where they pull the ovaries out of the radiation field to try and salvage if you want to have kids. And I was like, listen, I have two healthy babies. I need to be there for them. I can’t delay this any longer.
As for side effects from the initial chemo pump, I didn’t have any other than my fingertips turned different colors, like I dipped my fingertips in self-tanner. And everyone would be like, whoa, your fingertips are brown. My oncologist said that the chemo regimen I had to do was called 5-FU, and he was like, oh, it’s the 5-FU fingers. It’s totally normal to have that.
But later on, the side effects from the chemotherapy got way more intense. I went into the first treatment and after the treatment, I felt fine, just a little tired. I was told, though, that the side effects would really hit me—and they did.
Tuesday night after my very first infusion, I ended up so violently ill that I passed out. I got rushed to the emergency room at one in the morning because I was so sick.
When I got to the E.R., my blood pressure was in the 70s. My heart rate was super high. They were like, she is so severely dehydrated, we might need to admit her to the hospital. I can’t even tell you how many liters of fluids they gave me. Every antiemetic possible. I was still so sick.
They called my oncologist. They were like, what do we need to give her? And he was like, you need to give her this specific type of antiemetic. That’s for chemo. That’s really expensive. And hospitals don’t usually carry it. But he’s like, that’s what’s going to keep her out of the hospital.
So after that I went to my follow up appointment. He’s like, we need to do pre-meds on you because that obviously can’t happen again.
And I remember after when I was laying in the hospital after my first treatment, I said, I will not do this anymore. I’m done. I’m done with chemo. I can’t do this for seven more times.
And my mom’s like, you don’t have a choice. You have two children at home. You’re doing this. So we need to figure out what we need to do to make it so you can do this.
So I would pre-medicate, I would get this infusion of this antiemetic that was supposedly only for like chemo patients, before I got my chemo. And then on Wednesday when I got my pump disconnected, I would get fluids and that I did pretty well with that. I really didn’t have any other side effects from the chemo from that point on other than fatigue.
Aside from that, I would usually have to take a nap. I got a little bit of neuropathy towards the end where my feet were really numb and it felt like my feet were asleep, just chronically asleep. Which was pretty common for this type of chemo.
I didn’t lose my hair.
I had so much support and I will always be grateful for it.
Support
I had so much support and I will always be grateful for it.
I’m originally from Portland, Oregon. I have a really close friend group in Portland. I have a really good friend who contacted all my friends in Portland when she heard about my colorectal cancer.
She contacted all my family, all my friends in Spokane, like friends that I have in Arizona. She just went above and beyond, and she basically had them send her a letter of everything they love about me and basically wishes for me and then send pictures. And she put together this book. And so each page was like a friend who wrote a letter to me. I took that with me to my treatments because it was just like seeing how much love and support I had.
My best friend put together a bunch of stickers that said Support Squad Blue for Andrea, and people throughout the hospital were putting them on their water bottles, people I didn’t even know, but worked with her on in her unit and knew how much I meant to her were like wearing, buying these stickers to support me. And so just seeing that was like, so helpful.
I think when you’re literally fighting for your life, I didn’t hold grudges; didn’t get upset or anxious over really little things. I actually had a way better outlook on life when I was going through that because I was like, hey, I don’t know what next week looks like. I’m just going to enjoy everything I can right now, like my children and school.
Keeping Busy
My oncologist was like, you can’t work. You need to just rest. And I’m like, I’m not just going to sit at home and sulk.
So I actually completed my last semester of nurse practitioner school while I was in chemo. And I used my colorectal cancer treatments as my study time away from my kids. So, keeping myself busy and just continuing to push through, really helped me.
But I had days like there there were absolutely times where it would hit me like, I cannot believe that I have colorectal cancer and that this is what I’m going through.
And I would have to go upstairs. I’d lock myself in my room so my kids didn’t see me, and I would completely break down and just have a moment of hysterically crying, like ugly crying. Why? Why is this happening to me? Like, what did I do? And then I’d pop right out of it.
One of my good friends, she’s always like, okay, have your moment in Pity City and then get yourself out of it and let’s go. So I’d always just tell myself that, get out of Pity City. We had our moment, time to get back.
Stage 4 Scare
I had a bit of a scare during which I thought my colorectal cancer might be stage 4, but it hadn’t after all.
I was just starting my job as a nurse practitioner. Right after I completed treatment. Right before I had my first surgery. They wanted to rescan me and see just how much the tumor had shrunk. So I ended up having another CT and an MRI, and I remember being at my very first day of work at my new job, I was training, and I got the MyChart result.
So I opened it up and the first thing I saw was a new lesion on the liver, and my heart dropped. I remember I got through another hour of work, and then I finally just told my preceptor, I need to go. I’ll be back tomorrow.
And I called my husband, and I’m like, I’m stage four. He’s like, what are you talking about? And I’m like, there’s a lesion on my liver.
That day was the worst. Way worse than the day I got diagnosed. One of the most defeating days ever.
I came home and said, we need to plan my funeral, we need to get our things in order. And my husband, at that point, he’s always tried to be so positive. And at that point he literally goes, I don’t really know what else to say other than, we need to get things in order for you. Because he knew, this isn’t good. That day gives me more anxiety and just makes me cringe more than the day I got diagnosed. Because it felt like I had gone through so much for it just to not work.
The next day I remember messaging my oncology team and I was like, can I please can I have a phone call with my oncologist so we can talk about my CT scan? And she goes, yeah, he’ll like, do a telephone call with you or tell a zoom video. I was like, okay. So I went out to my car. I was again at work.
I went out to my car and got on the call, and he had my CT scan pulled up and he was there. And so I was sitting there and I was just waiting for him to tell me. And he goes, you know, the spot on your liver. He’s like, I am 99% sure it’s not cancer. I actually have a call out to the liver specialist to just look at it.
He said, you know, the chemo you have can really damage your liver. And I had actually had on my last chemo, I had labs done in my liver. Enzymes were elevated. And he said, I think this is a piece of your liver that just died from the chemo and is just trying to regenerate. Doc’s calling me right now. She’s reviewing all your images.
So he talked to her and then he got back on. He’s like, yeah, she is pretty confident.
This is nothing to be worried about. So at that moment I was like, oh my gosh. He said, you know, your tumor is actually shrunk significantly. It’s still there. We still need to do the surgery. But yeah, this spot on your liver, I’m just really not concerned about.
Remission
So technically, my colorectal cancer was in remission on the day of my surgery when they pulled the whole tumor out. June of 2022. And I guess at that point, I didn’t necessarily think I was in remission because I was like, well, they still need to scan to make sure they got everything.
They took the tumor out and they take the test, the margins to make sure there was no tumor cells. And I had negative margins, which they said is really good.
But unfortunately I had like eight lymph nodes that had live cells in it. And that puts you at such a high risk for recurrence.
I remember my oncologist being like, you have a 40% chance of going to stage four even with all of this out. And still it’s like a 60% chance of it not happening. Yeah, but 40% is pretty high. Because of that, they were like, we’re going to have you on a really close scan bloodwork every three months for five years.
So it wasn’t until probably my three month scan after that where they didn’t see anything that I was like, okay, I’m officially in remission. I don’t have the colorectal cancer in me anymore.
To this day, I still don’t think I’ve ever gotten to the point where I don’t feel that I have colorectal cancer. It’s just, I think a part of me feels that someday it probably will come back. And I don’t know how to get out of the mindset that it won’t.
Like, even though, my blood work, I get a CT scan, an MRI every three months, and then I get a tumor DNA test where they actually extract DNA from my tumor, and then they draw my blood every three months, and they compare those so they can actually pick up if there’s like, tumor cells floating. Every single one’s been negative since June of 2022.
But I can’t get in the mindset that it’s gone. I just I think that’s just part of it. I just can’t no matter what, I’m like, okay, well, another month where it hasn’t popped up again, but we’ll just wait till the next month like so.
And I think that’s just part of the process of this. Like you just once have once you have colorectal cancer, you’re never going to feel like you’re fully out of it.
Going during the treatment and everything, I felt less anxiety because I think when you’re going through treatment, you feel like you’re actively doing something to get rid of the cancer. When you’re in remission, you feel like a sitting duck, like you’re not doing anything to actively get rid of it, even though it’s technically gone.
So that has been really hard because when I was in treatment, I’m like, oh, every day I’m going in that’s killing more of those cells, and it’s getting rid of it, and you feel like you’re actively taking care of it. And then sitting in remission for the past two years, I think, okay, is this next scan, the one that’s going to pick something up, is this next bloodwork, the one that’s going to pick something up.
You just kind of feel it’s just like a waiting game. I think it’s because, you know, they say you can’t say you’re cancer-free until five years out.
So statistics show that I was 71% at stage three B, which I was I have a 71% five year survival rate. In hindsight 71% is great, but there’s also that 29% rate, that’s not. And so, I also get to the point where like, okay, yeah, I’m two years out from this. Does that mean I only get three years left? So I just get into a negative headspace and you just have to take a lot to get yourself out of it.
There are going to be dark days. There are going to be days where you feel like you cannot go on any longer. I had plenty of those days where I felt like, I cannot, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow. I cannot move on from this.
Just know that we can. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.
There is a bright side, even though you don’t feel like there is.
Lessons and Learnings
I am a huge advocate now for self-advocating.
I’ve had people reach out to me, on Facebook, on Instagram who’ve seen my story and they’re like, hey, I started to have these symptoms. I went to my doctor and my doctor was like, oh, you know, we’ll just follow up in a couple of months.
Absolutely not. You find yourself a new doctor, you go to an urgent care, you go to an ER and you say, this is what I need, this is what I want. You have to push for it. And, you know, I have told people: exaggerate your symptoms a little bit, like if you had one bloody bowel movement, go and you say I’m having multiple bloody bowel movements.
You get the colonoscopy because right now the colonoscopy age is 45, which is so crazy to me. With the rates of colon cancer showing up in people 18 to 35. I read an article that showed rectal cancer is supposed to increase by 112% in patients 18 to 35 by like 20, 35 or something crazy like that. And then colon cancer is supposed to increase by like 114%, just some outrageous number. Then it’s supposed to be the leading cause of cancer death in people 18 to 35.
And yet the colonoscopy age in the United States is 45. I’ve been in ER medicine for ten years now, but I’m a new provider and I’ve actually had a couple young patients come in who have had similar symptoms and they’re like, yeah, my primary doesn’t take me seriously.
And I’m like, we’re gonna call GI here in the ER today. We are going to try and get this figured out. We need to lower the age. But I also understand that with the increased amount of cancer cases and people needing scopes, they’re overwhelmed too. There isn’t enough providers.
I just think that we need to stop making it an age thing like it is. Colorectal cancer is not a 50 year old man’s disease. Someone who is 19 can get it, someone who is 20. And you can do all the right things and still get it.
I have never smoked a cigarette a day in my life; I do not do drugs; I hardly drink alcohol. I work out and I eat relatively healthy. And I still ended up here. And I had genetic testing. I have no genetic risk factors. I have no family history. So it can happen to anyone, it can literally happen to anybody.
Advice that I’d have for anyone in this situation is that there is a reason for everything. There is a reason that we were chosen to go through this fight.
I look at it as like I was chosen to go through this fight so I could help bring awareness to other people. We were chosen for a reason, and we need to be strong through this fight. We need to be there for our friends.
There are going to be dark days. There are going to be days where you feel like you cannot go on any longer. I had plenty of those days where I felt like, I cannot, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow. I cannot move on from this.
Just know that we can. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. There is a bright side, even though you don’t feel like there is. And know that your feelings are validated.
I had people be like, look at you, you’re still here. It’s like, no, you don’t know. You have no idea how this is feeling. And we are the only ones that will know truly how this feels. Know your feelings are validated, but know that you can get through this. I’m always here to talk to anybody who’s going through that.
My other thing is, stay off of the internet. I was in that support group for a little bit, but then it got to the point where I was seeing so many just negative things, stuff that started to bring me down, and I’m like, I had to remove myself from it. Stay off the internet, stay off of social media, stay off of any of that. That is the best advice I can give, because you will go down a rabbit hole of so many things, and that’s not what your body needs.
And your fight is your own fight, like my colorectal cancer fight isn’t somebody else’s. Like we’re all going to be different. Try not to compare it to other cases. Just know that, like your fight’s your own and you’re going to be different.
Interviewed by: Alexis Moberger Edited by: Chris Sanchez
Amy got through both melanoma and cervical cancer, and is eager to share what she learned from her experience.
You may be familiar with Amy, her husband, and their Australian shepherd Roxy if you’re active on social media; they’re the nature-loving family that takes half the year off to hike and travel in their Airstream, and shares their adventures online. But Amy is also a cancer patient advocate. She has had melanoma not just once, but four times, and has also overcome cervical cancer to boot. She travels constantly not only to explore, but also to spread awareness of skin health and the importance of keeping safe from the sun while enjoying the great outdoors.
Amy’s cancer story starts way back in her childhood. Like many others of her generation, she was ignorant of the dangers of unprotected exposure to sunlight, and would spend hours recklessly soaking up the sun in search of the perfect tan. She was just 8 when she got badly sunburned, after which a strange pattern resembling a birthmark appeared on her right arm and right back. Doctors weren’t overly concerned, shrugging the mark off as just a reaction to being in the sun.
More years of unprotected exposure to sunshine meant that Amy just kept on getting sunburned. She was 17 when her mother noticed that the mark on her arm and back was many times darker than the skin around it, and that plenty of moles were forming in the area. She was taken to a dermatologist–her first-ever visit to one–who performed multiple biopsies and diagnosed atypical dysplastic nevus, moles that look different from other moles and which are benign, but which can be harbingers of melanoma itself.
As Amy grew up, she continued to be at risk for skin cancer. She became a photographer whose work frequently took her outside, during which she preferred to wear less-protective clothing like tank tops. Her first cancer diagnosis came in 2016, when she was 28. The biggest and darkest spot she had yet seen appeared on her upper right chest, and it started to bleed. She ran to her dermatologist for a biopsy. The spot was diagnosed as melanoma stage 1B, on the verge of transitioning to stage 2.
The doctors successfully performed wide excision surgery, and afterwards Amy started to take her skin health seriously. She began to wear sunscreen and protective clothing, and started to have regular checkups. But her past years of unprotected sun exposure would not be overcome so quickly; she would struggle with 3 more bouts of melanoma, the latest one having been successfully treated in May 2023.
Amy is also a cervical cancer survivor, having been diagnosed and having successfully undergone treatment for her cancer in 2022. She has also experienced setbacks at seeking medical treatment; after moving to another state, she saw a doctor who did not agree with her concerns about her skin, and had to seek another healthcare team who would be more supportive.
In the past, Amy underwent genetic testing to determine the basis of her melanomas’ behavior. This testing has revealed two cancer mutation markers that place her at significant risk for ovarian, breast, and pancreatic cancers. These findings are further compounded by the fact that she has the connective tissue disorder Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which has been linked with issues and complications with melanoma, as well as a family history that includes breast cancer, melanoma, colon cancer, bone cancer, and cervical cancer. Amy had undergone major surgery in 2006 to correct some complications due to Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.
Amy’s story is a testament to how important it is to be one’s own advocate; to seek out medical assistance that truly serves one’s health, as well as a support system that has one’s back and helps one realize that one is not alone; to be resilient and determined, even when the going gets really tough; and to take skin health seriously.
In addition to Amy’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of stories about melanoma and cervical cancer. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
I just want to help anyone that I truly can, and not feel like they’re alone in this journey.
Introduction
I’m Amy Nichole, and everyone on social media knows my husband and I because we travel six months out of the year in our Airstream with our Australian shepherd, Roxy. What better way to really see the world then do that and be able to take our fur baby with us. So with my background in photography, it’s just a really good combo. We love hiking and seeing new places in the US and Canada.
Our travels are also important to me because they help me with my advocacy. I work to spread more awareness on how you can stay outdoors, be active in the sun, but also protect yourself with sunscreen, protective clothing and hats. I truly just want to help others to not be afraid of the sun even after they’ve been diagnosed. With us being out on the road so often and for so long, this is what I do and it has helped me stay safe during our travel days.
Health conditions and complications
To put my cancer history in proper context, here’s a little bit about some health conditions and complications I’ve faced.
Family history of cancer
Sad to say, cancer runs in my family.
My mother has had cervical cancer, my grandfather is currently battling colon cancer, and my great-grandmother had melanoma and breast cancer–the latter almost killed her, but what killed her in the end was melanoma on her foot in her 60s. And my grandmother on my father’s side had bone cancer.
Cancer mutation markers
I also carry not one but two cancer gene mutations.
You’ll see that in 2019, I went to an oncologist for a checkup. Although we didn’t find any melanomas, he urged me to do genetic testing because he felt that with me having a weird sunburned design on my arm and back (more on this later), there’s still something going on.
So we did genetic testing and it revealed my two cancer gene mutations. They both carry very high risk for ovarian, breast, and pancreatic cancer, both of them. Melanoma is very common for people with those levels of risk and those cancers.
Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome
And on top of all that, I also have a connective tissue disease called Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. Not only is this syndrome debilitating in itself, experts have also found links to complications and issues with melanoma.
Because of this syndrome, I have had multiple combinations with the collagen in my skin that keeps the bones and stuff in place. My sternum was concaved inward and that’s called pectus excavatum; it’s so severe that my heart was pushed to the left and down and is deformed because it didn’t have enough space. My lungs could not fully open, especially the one on the right, which means I couldn’t get the full oxygen intake. No thanks to this condition, I’ve had multiple instances of pneumonia growing up; I was always sickly; and I had a hard time breathing. I was misdiagnosed multiple times with asthma and then anxiety.
In 2006, matters with my condition came to a head. Doctors at UCLA said, we need to fix your chest now–otherwise, by age 30, you’ll most probably pass away because everything is so compressed and your heart is under tremendous stress. And I was going into a lot of tach rhythm and stuff, like tach, SVT, AFib And they said that it eventually would lead up to ventricular tachycardia with how much stress the heart was being put under.
So they did a procedure called the Ravitch Procedure. It should have been a two hour surgery, but it actually took nearly 9 hours to finish, because once they opened me up, they realized on the healer index that I was a 13.9. To have the surgery you need to have a 2.9. So I was way above and beyond what they’ve ever done before.
It was like open heart surgery. They cracked the sternum in two places to reconfigure it, to get it straight; broke every single rib twice; and then wired everything shut and put this bar in for six months. But a year and a half later, I started having more heart issues. And when they checked my chest out, they found out that my sternum was concave again, and even worse compared to before I had the surgery.
Not only did they have to put the bar back, but they also did a newer surgery method called the Nuss procedure. This was not without risk, because this procedure is usually done on 12 year olds. I was in my 20s, with my body already done growing, so the procedure was risky, but necessary.
We found a pediatric thoracic surgeon at UCLA to do the surgery. I did have complications. I was in the ICU for three weeks when I should only have been there for two nights. The bar stayed in for four years, not six months. And my cardiologist really pushed that surgeon. Don’t take it out. We saw what happened the last time. He was like, no, this surgery, you have to have that bar out. She can’t keep it in because it technically went from one rib to the other rib. We did end up extracting it.
But in 2018, I had to have the bar put in again–my third and final repair for my pectus excavatum, and the bar went in to stay this time.
We found a surgeon in Las Vegas who would do the surgery. He said, OK, usually this bar would need to come out after four years, but given your health situation it needs to stay in. Technically, your condition is severe enough that we should be putting in two bars. But because two would really limit your mobility, and since you’re going to leave it in, we need to try it with one bar to start and see how it does.
So they put in a titanium bar that lets me do an MRI and have all the scans when I need to. I did have major complications once again, like pneumothorax in both lungs that kept me in the ICU for a whole month and a half. I have this huge scar that starts under my breast. But I did pull through, and my heart and lungs are as good as they can be now.
Pre-Diagnosis
I was not the best when it came to sun protection growing up.
Back then, we all were not very aware that laying out was really going to cause all these issues in the future, because back then everyone was like, oh, you have to look tan or you look sick. And I was super pale with my complexion and my background and all that. So I really went against what I should have done for my skin.
At age eight, I got a really bad sunburn. And my mother had noticed since that sunburn, I got this really weird design on my right arm and on my right back. It looks kind of like a birthmark. And she took me to the doctors.
They’re like, it’s fine. It’s just a reaction to the sun. But my mom’s like, she wasn’t born with it. They retorted, I know, but it’s just a reaction. So they just kind of pushed it aside.
And then in my teens, laying out with oil to try to get that tan, I didn’t do tanning beds, but laid out for hours on end every single day to try to get that tan and had multiple sunburns because of it.
And then when I was about 17, my mom noticed that that design on my arm and my back was getting ten times darker than my actual complexion. And a lot of moles were forming, all around it, and only in the actual design itself. So she’s like, we need to get you to like a dermatologist. It’s a skin doctor–my very first visit to one–and they’re going to know what’s going on.
So they just started watching my skin at 17 and we’re doing biopsies. And I was diagnosed with atypical dysplastic nevus. But I didn’t take it very seriously, even though I was having multiples of them: some mild, some moderate, others severe. And even with having excisions at such a young age, I still didn’t really know much, and certainly didn’t put two and two together.
If you butt heads with or don’t agree with your doctor, don’t get defensive with them or question them personally. Do your research and get a second opinion. But don’t stop thinking that you’re losing your mind or overthinking. Go with your gut.
If you feel something is off, listen to your inner guts and go with it.
Because at the end of the day, you are the one that sees your body daily. You know how you feel.
Diagnosis and Treatment
When I was 28 years old, things took a really serious turn.
I had become a photographer who was always outside for shoots–without hats and in tank tops and clothes like that. I had to start going every 3 to 6 months to my dermatologist in UCLA.
And she gave me the ABCDEs of melanoma, and then I started reading it. I’m like, hmm, maybe I should start really looking at all of these spots all over my body.
Melanoma: Stage 1B (June 2016)
One day I started having this spot right here on my upper right chest itch. I’m like, maybe I have an allergic reaction because my skin is sensitive. But it started to bleed. This one spot was a lot bigger and pretty dark compared to all the other spots.
And so I called my dermatologist, and she looked at it. Well, it’s not super inflamed or anything, she said, but we’ll biopsy it.
Within three days she called me. The biopsy came back as melanoma stage 1B and it was really close to changing to stage 2. And she said, we’re going to have to get you in right away to get a wide excision done.
After the surgery, my doctors at UCLA urged me to see a dermatologist every three months and I agreed to do so. We lived in Las Vegas and I had to find someone to go to frequently. I didn’t really see eye to eye with the first dermatologist I went to, however.
I felt he looked at me like I was young and I didn’t know what I was doing and didn’t know your skin. And there were other issues too. When I got him to biopsy a worrisome spot, he told me it was moderate atypical dysplastic nevus, which I had had in the past. I requested a wide excision, which is what they would have done at UCLA because of my history of melanoma. But the doctor said, it looks fine–and I will see you in a year because I’m fully booked.
I tried to get myself a booking for a checkup 3 months later, but couldn’t. So I waited it out and finally saw him after 8 months–during which not only did the spot he had removed grow back over the scar, another spot across it actually started growing. So, two menacing spots.
I asked him to biopsy both–but he said he only had time to do one. I had him look at the one that grew back, and it was melanoma. He didn’t tell me the Clark level or stage. He just referred me to a Mohs surgeon and said, I’ll see you after a year.
Melanoma: Stage 1B (February 2019)
I got transferred to another facility that was absolutely amazing. Their type of care was above and beyond. They took me in right away.
I underwent a Mohs procedure with their awesome surgeon. It took six hours to keep cutting because it was really deep. It was a Clark level of five. So he said that one was closer to stage two than my first one was. And he was shocked because it was a moderate atypical dysplastic nevus, which he said the odds are so low for it ever changing into melanoma. But yours did, he said, and in eight months.
If it would have been left, it would have been stage two, he said, within a matter of a month or two or sooner, you don’t know, because melanoma is weird.
And while he was in the last round of cutting, I asked him, is there any way you could look at the other spot that’s across from it? Of course.
And within a week that one came back as Stage 1A melanoma.
Melanoma: Stage 1A (March 2019)
The doctor was like, okay, that’s not good. You need to get established with us and leave the other dermatologist because obviously he didn’t have your best interest at heart.
So I moved my whole team to that facility, got a dermatologist through them, and I started seeing them every three months. And that dermatologist said, you need to get in with an oncologist now.
I asked, why? It didn’t go to my lymph nodes. It hasn’t spread. The dermatologist explained, in such a short time period you’ve had no less than three melanomas. There’s something going on with your body; it’s producing them rapidly and we need to get to the bottom of it.
Oncologist, PET scan, and genetic testing
So by September 2019, I saw an oncologist and then got established with him, did my first ever PET scan. Everything was clear. There was no hidden melanoma, nothing, which was a real godsend.
And then he was like, we need to do genetic testing because I really feel with you having this weird design, there’s something going on. This is when I underwent the genetic testing I mentioned earlier.
Cervical cancer (November 2022)
Near the end of 2022, I decided to undergo a partial hysterectomy–to head off any possible issues stemming from my Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and to deal with a persistent HPV infection.
I experienced several symptoms pointing to cervical cancer, such as painful intercourse and discomfort during Pap smears, as well as cramping.
Because of my syndrome, I’m not a candidate to get pregnant, because I’ll just pass my condition on to any child I have. Moreover, if I do get pregnant, I have a 50% chance of not surviving the pregnancy anyway due to complications with my condition, and the hormones might actually make my heart rupture. So, at 23, my husband and I decided I would get my tubes tied.
Because my existing OB-GYN wouldn’t do the procedure, I found a high-risk OB-GYN who would. But another development occurred. Because of my family history of cancer, I’ve been undergoing Pap tests every year. In 2017, I tested positive for HPV. The doctors reassured me that this was normal and that a healthy body would get rid of it naturally within six months. In 2018, my HPV test came back negative, but in 2019 it came back positive. So we switched to 6-month testing and the tests just kept coming back positive. But because the cells were mild and not changing too much, we decided to just watch it.
In 2022, just before my family and I left for our travels, I was tested again and the cells had changed once more. My OB-GYN told me that we would test one more time after we returned from our trip, and if the cells had changed further, I would need to get a hysterectomy.
We got back from the trip, I got the test, and the cells did change again. So I was scheduled for a hysterectomy as the doctor advised, on November 11.
My husband and I decided that if my ovaries looked clean when the OB-GYN went in, we would just leave them and have a partial hysterectomy. Additionally, I didn’t want to go through menopause at age 35. I was happy to hear that my ovaries looked clean and good, so the OB-GYN left them in and we decided I would just undergo regular testing each year.
Unfortunately my stay at that hospital resulted in significant complications.
I stayed there for eight nights and barely ate while I was there; I just had their ice chips and water, and had no appetite. My husband was increasingly suspicious because I usually do have an appetite.
So he brought me home, which was alright since we live less than 10 minutes away from that hospital. But over the next few days, I started running a fever and also began to have diarrhea about every 20 minutes, and then began to have breathing problems and the left side of my face was swollen shut. So my husband brought me back in.
They determined I had a gastrointestinal infection. They administered antibiotics and had me stop eating and drinking for 48 hours, and at first I was feeling much better. But after a couple more days, my symptoms worsened to the point that I was either vomiting or having diarrhea.
By the 7th day, I had to force a couple slices of pizza down because I hadn’t eaten anything except the ice chips and water. An hour after I ate, my belly was super swollen and I started vomiting and couldn’t stop. A CT scan was performed–and we discovered that my infection had spread throughout my entire intestines.
We gave up on that hospital and transferred to another one. There, we discovered that I had contracted a bacterial infection like E. coli from the other hospital’s water and food, and it had spread like wildfire since the antibiotics had covered it up. The new hospital also found out that my potassium was dangerously low, just 2.4, and my liver was in the 500s. I ended up having to stay an extra 10 days at that hospital to recover and didn’t get to go home until mid-December, and also lost 25 to 30 lbs.
I truly just want to help others to not be afraid of the sun even after they’ve been diagnosed.
Melanoma: Stage 0 (May 2023)
Just last year, a fourth melanoma appeared on my upper right back, again within that distinctive birthmark-like design.
As it turned out, we had caught it early; it was at Stage 0. I underwent a local wide excision, which successfully prevented it from progressing to Stage 1.
Life and lifestyle changes
I’ve made some small but powerful life and lifestyle changes, dating from my first brush with melanoma.
I started to shift my whole mindset–began to wear hats, change out my wardrobe in favor of more protective clothing that’s UPF 50, and improve my behavior: always wear sunscreen, and never step outside again without sleeves, even if it’s 120 degrees or something.
Even my husband’s mindset changed; he’s from Greece, where they’re not really big on sun protection either, and he just loves being outdoors and going mountain biking and so on. But after seeing what I underwent, he changed too.
I’ve also made significant changes to my diet as well. My oncologist and team have told me to stay away from sugar because my cancer wants anything it can have, it will want it to produce these mutations to produce the melanoma. So I made the decision to reduce my sugar intake to very low levels. The only sugar that I get is from natural sources, fruits. I also eat lots of veggies.
I also take daily Vitamin D supplements. When your Vitamin D level is low, if you have the mutation I have, you’re actually at higher risk for cancer. I actually am deficient in vitamin D. So my daily supplements are crucial.
I also make sure I walk daily, which is easy because Roxy, our Australian Shepherd, has so much energy you literally have to make sure she goes for her walk.
I just want to help anyone that I truly can, and not feel like they’re alone in this journey.
Words of advice
I just want to help anyone that I truly can, and not feel like they’re alone in this journey.
The four times I’ve had melanoma, I’ve used my experience to educate others, to try to help them not make the same mistakes and just help as many people as I can by sharing my own journey.
And if they’re fighting it right now, I try to help them with just being there for them. We have a really big community on Instagram of others that have melanoma, and we just work together doing drills and stuff to spread awareness and doing Lives, asking people, what are your fears? Just to show them that, hey, you’re not alone, that we all have your back. And if you need someone to talk to, we’re all there for you.
I also have advice to offer regarding doctors. If you butt heads with or don’t agree with your doctor, don’t get defensive with them or question them personally. Do your research and get a second opinion. But don’t stop thinking that you’re losing your mind or overthinking. Go with your gut.
If you feel something is off, listen to your inner guts and go with it. Because at the end of the day, you are the one that sees your body daily. You know how you feel. You know how you should feel. They do know what they’re talking about. The doctors, they don’t want something to go wrong with you, but they don’t see your body daily or know you personally. They know what to do to treat you and stuff. But if you feel that what you are being told is not matching to what you feel should be done, get a second opinion.
You also need to find a doctor that you feel comfortable with, especially an OB-GYN. I don’t feel comfortable with the male OB-GYN, for instance. I feel more comfortable with a woman. You need to feel comfortable with that doctor, because it’s a very intimate type of situation. You need to be on the same page with them and just feel safe with their judgment. And also someone that will not push you to wait three years to five years, even though that’s what the new standard is, especially if you have a history.
Lastly, this is specific to those who are suffering from hair loss. Find a hair company, if you know you’re having that issue, and find a supplement that will help promote the hormones to balance them out naturally than having to take medicines. They have so many side effects and, I feel, actually cause more damage than good. If you can avoid them, I try to avoid them. I use Soothe Vitamins from Keratin Haircare and it’s all natural. They help women and men that have experienced hair loss at all ages, and they’ve been there for me since I had my melanoma return in 2019, and I could not have done half the stuff that I have with my hair without them.
Symptoms: Intermittent spotting during or after sex, unpredictable menstrual cycle, abdominal pain particularly under the rib cage Treatments: Chemotherapy (cisplatin & paclitaxel), immunotherapy (Keytruda), surgery (total abdominal hysterectomy with bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy & omentectomy) ...
Interviewed by: Alexis Moberger Edited by: Chris Sanchez
Viola is a survivor of Stage 4 stomach cancer.
Viola’s cancer diagnosis came as quite an unwelcome surprise, because she is athletic and active; has practically no family history of cancer, save for a grandfather who got lung cancer from chain-smoking; and aside from a couple of symptoms, initial tests including a CT scan, blood testing and biopsy came up with nothing.
Nevertheless, further testing just a few months after that healthy diagnosis revealed Stage 4 stomach cancer that had started to spread outside of her stomach.
A shaken Viola began to undergo the aggressive chemotherapy regimen known as FLOT, but also started to speak up for herself. Her doctor told her that should FLOT be successful, it would open the door to surgical removal of her stomach. But this was unacceptable to Viola, since doing so would not do anything about the other afflicted parts of her body.
Viola and her mother began to do research, and discovered another treatment called HIPEC that could help. But this was not something she could automatically avail of. The doctor who administered HIPEC would need to check her CT scans to see if she could undergo this treatment. Thankfully, the doctor and his staff later agreed to treat her even without seeing her CT scans.
In a 10-hour operation, the doctor removed her stomach, ovaries, gallbladder, and part of her small intestine and big intestine before administering the chemotherapy drugs that are part of HIPEC. Viola’s response was positive, and she was discharged after a stay in intensive care to heal at home, where she carefully resumed her athletic activities to help herself recover.
Months later, however, Viola was back in surgery because she had to constantly use the toilet, and upon arriving at the hospital she started vomiting and could not stop. She underwent a 6-hour operation to deal with her intestinal issues.
But Viola’s body continued to refuse to absorb nutrients. A few months after the surgery, as advised by another oncologist, and despite the objections of her own oncologist, Viola took a gamble and stopped her chemotherapy treatments. The gamble paid off: her condition normalized. Moreover, a checkup revealed that her cancer was gone, which quarterly checkups continue to verify.
Viola’s story is testament to her strength and positivity, to her refusal to accept the status quo and undergo standard treatment, and to her unwavering belief in herself.
In addition to Viola’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of stories about stomach cancer. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
Cancer is just an opportunity to prove how strong you are.
Introduction
My name is Viola. I’m Polish, but I’ve been living in Australia for 20 years.
I turn 51 in April this year. I have two kids, 14 and 17.
I like sports, I used to run a lot, I love swimming. I just enjoy being outside, I love nature.
I love talking to people. I just get a lot of energy being around people.
Pre-diagnosis
Before I got diagnosed with cancer, I was thinking that I might die from a different disease, but not from cancer, because there’s practically no cancer story in my family.
Only my grandfather had cancer, many, many years ago–he died from lung cancer, but he got it because he smoked a lot.
This means that my cancer was a big surprise for all of us.
My own story goes back a little. Five years before I got diagnosed, I knew something was wrong with me because I was very tired and I could feel a little pain.
But when I went to the doctor and they checked my blood, did a CT scan, and all that, there was nothing. And because I was so active, too, they really didn’t think that something was going on.
All of a sudden, in February 2020–when the pandemic started–my husband, daughter and son all got sick with influenza. And one day, I went to work and suddenly felt a sharp pain. And ever since then, I started to feel weak, and got weaker and weaker. But I thought it was just influenza, too.
My family was fine after 2 or 3 or 2 weeks. But I was still very, very weak. And I kept going to the doctor for checkups, two or three times. But he still couldn’t find anything wrong with me.
Diagnosis
In April, we did the blood tests and CT scan, and the doctor couldn’t see anything. And he said, okay, let’s have you do a gastroscopy or endoscopy.
But he then said, oh, since there’s a pandemic, I don’t know if you can have these tests. But I put my foot down, and said, I have to give it a go, you know?
I got a referral for a different doctor, and I said, OK, if I’m going to have to pay for these visits, let’s get the best doctor we can get.
So I did go to see that new doctor and filled him in. He noticed that I had lost weight–all of a sudden, I had lost 5 kilos. But I personally didn’t notice, because I’ve always been pretty skinny, and I’ve been running quite a lot, too.
The doctor had me do an endoscopy. I went to see him on a Friday and we did it on Monday. And once again, they couldn’t find anything. But this time, this new doctor said, let’s do another one in a couple days, because I don’t have a good feeling about it. So we did another one after three days.
The doctor didn’t have results yet, but he called me and said–I think it’s cancer. Of course I said, no, it’s not possible, in fact, I already feel much better.
And two days after that is when he called me with the confirmation that it really was cancer. Stomach cancer, stage 4.
And as it turns out, it was hidden in my stomach wall, which is why it didn’t show up easily or right away. And the other thing was the cancer had spread a little bit outside. I think it’s called peritoneal.
Reaction to the Diagnosis
It was from nothing to a big thing. In April 2020, I was a healthy girl; on June 1 of the same year, I was diagnosed with stage 4 stomach cancer.
So this is how sneaky cancer is. Stomach cancer just takes you by surprise. And it’s so ironic because I was always laughing at my husband, saying, hey, I can eat anything, and he would go, oh, I can’t eat this because my stomach hurts.
And moreover, I didn’t have any symptoms like blood in a stool, or anything like that.
So yeah, it was a big, big, big shock to me. I didn’t know what to think. Of course I thought I would die. Just the word cancer freaks you out.
My friends were incredulous. They said, your blood results, they didn’t show anything. The CT scans from April didn’t show anything. The first biopsy didn’t show anything. Is it really cancer?
But it was just hidden in my stomach wall. That’s why I never had constant pain. Because if you have stomach cancer and if you have a lump, wherever you eat, it hurts.
Treatment
Stomach cancer is aggressive cancer, so we had to move right away, and the first treatment I was given was aggressive too.
So the surgeon I was going to said, okay, because you’re young–I was 47 at the time–let’s do the chemo, we’ll put you on FLOT.
FLOT
So they put me on FLOT, and like I said, it was very aggressive chemo. It’s not for everyone.
The doctors put people on FLOT if they have hope that their patients can undergo the surgery and regimen. If not, I would have been put on palliative chemo instead.
The doctor wrote a report and in it he said, if the chemotherapy works, we can consider an operation to remove the stomach. When I saw the word “consider”, I freaked out. I could feel that my life was in his hands. And I’m not the kind of person who’s okay when someone else decides about my life.
What about the rest of the cancer that’s outside the stomach, I asked him? He said, well, this is what I can do. But I put my foot down and said, this is not enough. You can’t just leave the rest of the cancer in my body.
So I talked to my mom, who lives back in Poland, and we started searching for alternatives. And she came across a method called HIPEC.
HIPEC
Now, HIPEC is something they don’t recommend for stomach cancer patients. It’s more for people with colon cancer, or ovarian cancer. But we still wanted to give it a shot.
So I started searching here in Australia and found one doctor who could administer it, but I could feel that she didn’t feel confident about HIPEC for me. So I kept on searching.
I found another doctor who actually started HIPEC in Australia, and who was supposedly the best in the country. He had been doing this for such a long time and was very experienced. I think he was about 70 years old at the time already.
I wanted to make an appointment with him, but it wasn’t that straightforward. I had to send all my CT scan results beforehand, and then his staff would have to see if I was qualified for it. So I was waiting for all my scan results to arrive–and praying and praying that he would accept me.
And all of a sudden, I got a phone call from the doctor’s secretary. She said, you’re clear to make an appointment, even if we haven’t received your CT scan results yet. So it was like a blessing from God.
So when I finally met him, he was like, OK, no problem, we can do it. And I said, really? It’s stage 4. He said, yeah, not a problem, we see how we go.
Out of curiosity, I asked, do you get a lot of stomach cancer patients? And he said, I actually don’t. Most of the time, it’s too late and there’s no chance. But with you, I can see a chance that HIPEC will work for you.
So they put me on what would eventually be 4 rounds of HIPEC chemo. It was tough, and not just the chemo itself. It was doubly tough for me, for my family, because I’m responsible for all the cooking and cleaning at home and all of that. And when I got sick my husband had to take over everything.
Also, being on chemo, not having appetite, and thinking about death was traumatizing. And people around me were in shock, too. Because we didn’t have that family history of cancer. And I was also pretty young when it started.
People didn’t know how to help. They were sending flowers and I said, I don’t need flowers, sorry, I need food. Some people just couldn’t get it. I don’t know, maybe I expected too much from people.
So I tried to eat and be strong for the next step, which was an operation. I remember that they really wanted to operate on me quickly. We can’t wait, they said–this is aggressive cancer. We have to do it quickly.
Surgery
So, in September 2020, they rescheduled all their operations just to fit me in, and then they performed the surgery.
Mine was a long operation, ten hours. They removed my stomach, ovaries, gallbladder, part of the small and large intestines. Honestly, I don’t know if the cancer spread to my gallbladder, but they just removed this just in case.
They told my husband that apparently my stomach was sitting or lying on my intestine. And if the stomach was full of cancer, then it could spread to the intestine. That’s why they removed as much as they could.
Chemotherapy
And after removing all the stuff, they performed the next part of HIPEC.
This is like a hot chemo, 42 degrees. So after they take all the organs out of you, they put in the hot chemotherapy, they close you.
And this is like in the washing machine, it’s just killing the cancer cells that are left after the cancerous parts are removed.
It should have taken just about one hour and a half, but I started bleeding after an hour, and they had to disconnect me. That’s why it took so long, ten hours. And then I went to intensive care.
… the secret of my success is that I was doing the stuff that people don’t want to do.
I’m alive because I was doing stuff that people don’t do.
Post-Procedure
They expected me to be in intensive care for 4 or 5 days.
Because this is very aggressive treatment, and only strong young people can be qualified for it. But, you know, I always had a lot of energy.
When I had the operation and woke up the next morning, I was strangely happy.
My first question was, did you even operate on me? And they said, yes. So I was happy already.
This is like when you go on holiday and then come back home; you still have this energy left over from the holiday.
After I woke up the next day in intensive care, I had all this good energy.
It was in the middle of the night and I was chatting away. The whole world was quiet and I was so active and talking because I was still on this healthy energy.
And when the doctor saw me, he said, oh, I’m pretty happy with the result. You look OK. So maybe we can move you to a normal ward straight away. In fact, they wanted to discharge me under 24 hours because I look pretty OK.
But I said, no way, not yet. I want to stay in intensive care first. I didn’t know if the people in the normal ward would know what to do with me.
Sure, I did have all that good positive energy afterwards. But recovery turned out to be hard. Because everything stopped inside my body. The intestines were not working. It was a big shock for my body. They did remove half of my organs, after all. I remember after the operation, after the HIPEC, they wanted me to go to the toilet by myself. They didn’t want to do anything that was not right with my body.
After 3 days, I got discharged. I went back home. I was healing. But I wanted to take the next round of chemo straight away. However, they said that I needed at least 2 months to recover, because it was after all quite a big shock for my body. Not just because of the operation but also because of all the chemotherapy that was pumped inside me.
I recovered at home, and I tried to be active while doing so–stuff that people don’t ordinarily think of doing while in recovery. I got myself to walk. I even jumped on the trampoline. Anything to keep my body moving. I slept a lot as well, of course.
But the secret of my success is that I was doing the stuff that people don’t want to do. I’m alive because I was doing stuff that people don’t do.
Second Operation
After this operation, I had to undergo a second operation in April 2021, because I had a problem with my intestines.
I was already skinny, on chemotherapy, and I lost a lot of weight. Maybe I’m mentally strong, and my body was strong too.
But I couldn’t keep the food in my body; the toilet became my home. Honestly, I could sleep there. It was just a nightmare.
So my weight was only 38 kilos in April 2021. So, to fix me up, I had to have a second operation. They had to open me up again and see what’s going on.
Of course, it was a scary moment, honestly, because this was the time when I started vomiting a lot at the hospital.
And even my son said, I thought you are not coming back, because when you start vomiting, it means that your intestines are blocked, and if the intestines are blocked, you’re done for.
So I underwent a 6-hour operation to repair my intestines.
Afterwards, the doctor checked–and there was no sign of cancer.
Even at the hospital, I kept on doing the things that were working for me. I was pushing myself. I tried to walk and do different things. I meditated and prayed. I just refused to accept that I can die.
Stopping Chemotherapy and Being Cancer-Free
After the surgery, I stayed on chemo for over a year because my oncologist didn’t think that I was going to survive.
My oncologist, by the way, didn’t want me to do the operation. He said, people with stage 4 shouldn’t be operated on. But I retorted, I don’t need to talk to you–this is my life. Why should I put it in someone else’s hands?
I should also say that my surgeon and oncologist don’t get along. They don’t speak, because my oncologist doesn’t like my surgeon. But I’m really grateful for my surgeon, because he’s a great man with a big heart. He’s helped so many people the same way he helped me. So I continue to pray for his continued health.
In December 2021, I ended up stopping chemotherapy. This was a risky choice I had to make. I was losing weight again and my body wasn’t absorbing nutrients at all.
I was scared because chemo was saving me, it was keeping cancer away from me. But then I went to another oncologist, who backed me up.
The oncologist said, you’re right, Viola, stop the chemo. Get stronger. If something comes back–hopefully nothing will, but just in case it does–your body will be much stronger and will be better equipped to fight it off.
So I took his advice and stopped chemo. And since then, every 3 months I’ve had a CT scan and a check up.
So far, so good. No signs of cancer.
… don’t be scared, really, because people want to scare you.
Saying you have cancer and then you are just–bang, you’re done.
You’re not done.
Words of Advice
Because you live, people look at me and they said, oh, you’re fine, blah, blah, blah. Even my family, they don’t get it.
People said, well, you should go and live your life. But you can’t live your life if you could die.
My death was in front of my face. It’s changed me. It’s changed me a lot.
But honestly, I don’t care what other people think. You know, people, this is my life. This is my decision.
And I think I’m a big winner.
I don’t listen to anyone, honestly. Even to my family. The only person who supports me is my mom. But I’m strong. I’m very mentally strong. And I wish more people who are going through cancer will listen to themselves instead of other people. People who have never gone through this.
I only listen to people who have experienced what I went through. People who have never gone through this honestly don’t have a clue what they’re talking about.
I know, maybe I’m too straightforward, but this is me.
If someone can learn something from me, that will be great. Look, whatever happens next, I’m much stronger. And I have more knowledge.
When I got diagnosed for the first time, it was a big surprise. But now I know that cancer is just another sickness. This is about what you eat. It’s about your mindset. It’s everything. But don’t be scared, really, because people want to scare you. Saying you have cancer and then you are just–bang, you’re done. You’re not done.
Cancer is just an opportunity to prove how strong you are.
Symptoms: None; found during the evaluation process for kidney donation Treatments: Surgery (partial gastrectomy & nephrectomy), chemotherapy (oxaliplatin & capecitabine), radiation ...
Initial Symptoms: Choking suddenly while eating and attempting to speak; neck and right shoulder pain; neck tightness; trouble swallowing certain food items Treatment: Surgery (subtotal gastrectomy, D1 lymphadenectomy, gastric bypass)...
Interviewed by: Alexis Moberger Edited by: Chris Sanchez
Laura survived stage 4 kidney cancer.
Originally from south Louisiana, Laura now lives in Southern California. She splits her time between working full time in marketing in the gaming and hospitality industry, being a kidney cancer patient advocate, enjoying her sports and hobbies, and caring for her family.
Laura had been struggling with her health for at least two years before her symptoms were properly diagnosed as cancer. She suffered from elevated blood pressure and fatigue so significant that she would sometimes have to nap in her car during lunch breaks, and was also found to have a very high red blood cell count. But the doctors she would consult chalked her symptoms up to lack of sleep, stress due to her demanding job, excess weight, and so on.
Later on, Laura’s health took a turn for the worse. She started to experience back pain so bad that she sometimes had a hard time walking, and her legs became so swollen that she was unable to wear pants to a dinner out to celebrate her 29th birthday. She returned to the doctors, who started taking a closer look at her symptoms and ordered more procedures.
Blood work uncovered kidney issues. Her doctor told her to have a CT scan done that week, but she decided to take immediate action. That very night, just 5 days after her 29th birthday, she went to the emergency room. It was a pivotal and timely decision: the doctors discovered that she had stage 4 cancer and a massive 13cm tumor on her right kidney. The doctors also found that this tumor was what was causing her legs to swell, because it was blocking her vena cava–the main artery bringing blood back up to the heart from the lower parts of the body–making immediate treatment even more urgent. Laura was also diagnosed with the rare genetic disorder, hereditary leiomyomatosis and renal cell cancer (HLRCC), or Reed’s Syndrome.
Laura’s ER surgeon, a kidney cancer survivor himself, connected her with the UCLA-based surgeon who had operated on him years ago, and she ended up heading there for surgery. During a 5-hour session, the surgical team removed her right kidney, right adrenal gland, most of her inferior vena cava, and 7 lymph nodes. However, a checkup some weeks later revealed that the cancer was not only still present but had also spread to her lungs, liver, and nearly all the lymph nodes in her chest.
Laura started seeing another doctor in Las Vegas, who recommended that she take part in the S1500 PAPMET randomized clinical trial organized by the global cancer research community, SWOG Cancer Research Network. After some deliberation, she decided to join the trial, where she ended up taking the targeted therapy drug Cabometyx (cabozantinib).
The side effects of cabozantinib were crippling. But just a year after Laura started taking it, she was found to be in complete remission. Out of 147 patients who joined the trial, she was 1 of only 2 who had had a complete response to their treatment.
Laura continues to be healthy to this day; she undergoes scans every six months, and to date her status continues to be “NED” (no visible evidence of disease). But not only is she enjoying her life once again, she is also now a patient advocate, and actually works with the very doctors who concluded the clinical trial she joined.
Laura is sharing her story with us to show that a Stage 4 diagnosis does not have to be a reason to give up hope; to exhort cancer patients to advocate for themselves as a lifelong responsibility; and to urge them to get to know both their bodies and their disease, in order to be able to make the best possible choices for themselves.
In addition to Laura’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of stories about kidney cancer. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
Name: Laura E.
Diagnosis:
Genetic condition: hereditary leiomyomatosis and renal cell cancer (HLRCC) (Reed’s Syndrome)
Type 2 metastatic papillary renal cell carcinoma
Staging:
Stage 4
Initial Symptoms:
Profound fatigue
Hypertension
High red blood cell count
Severe back pain
Badly swollen legs
Treatment:
Cabometyx (cabozantinib) assigned under S1500 PAPMET clinical trial
This interview has been edited for clarity. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.
I’m not the same person I was before I was diagnosed. There’s no way I could be.
I definitely look at life differently now…
I try my best to live as authentically as possible. Because I know time is a gift.
Introduction
I am 36 years old. I live in Southern California, and I’m originally from outside of Baton Rouge, in the south of Louisiana.
I’m a proud graduate of Louisiana State University, where I got a bachelors and masters from National University. I’ve been working in marketing in the gaming and hospitality industry for over a decade now. Just busy with my family when I’m not at work.
I also like to read and do Zumba and watch global reality TV. I’m actually am part of an all women’s Mardi Gras krewe; I ride in a parade in New Orleans every year and it’s one of my favorite things to do. I just rode earlier this year and I’m already ready for next year.
Pre-Diagnosis
I was having symptoms of my kidney cancer probably two years before I was officially diagnosed.
I had horrible fatigue and was actually going to my car in my lunch breaks to sleep. My blood work was really off. I would go get my blood work done and there would be this one level that I was like, why is it off? And actually had a doctor tell me, oh, if something was really wrong, it would be like hundreds off the charts.
My blood pressure was high, too. I talked to my primary care doctor and she said, well, hypertension runs in your family. And I said, I know, but I’m in my 20s. It’s usually people in their 40s and 50s in my family that have hypertension.
Everyone just kept telling me, lose weight, get more sleep, reduce your stress. And at the time I was working in marketing for a casino corporation that has multiple properties across the country. I was the marketing manager over three of their properties on the strip. And so I thought, okay, well, I probably am stressed.
You know, I was working a lot of hours and, and had a lot of responsibilities. My kids were in middle school at the time or late elementary school. And so I just thought that’s kind of how things were. And then it was about six months before my diagnosis.
Diagnosis: Type 2 metastatic papillary renal cell carcinoma
I went to get another biometric screening done, and they almost called an ambulance because my blood pressure was so high.
So I went to my primary care doctor. But she again said, lose weight, reduce your stress. I ran my blood work and my red blood cell count came back really high, which I later found out is an indicator of kidney cancer. But the doctor said, oh, you probably just had an infection or something.
I felt like a hypochondriac at that point. These are all specialists. These are all doctors. They know what they’re doing, who am I to question it? So that was December.
And then one day in May, ten days before my birthday, I woke up and I just had the most horrific back pain I’ve ever had in my life.
I was honestly struggling to walk. It felt like I was a puppet and someone was just pulling the strings, you know?
And so I went to urgent care because my primary care couldn’t get me in. But it was more of the same. They said, yeah, you probably pulled a muscle here. I was given some muscle relaxers. Of course, they didn’t work.
It progressed to the point that a few days later, for my birthday, we went out to dinner and I couldn’t even put pants on. I had to wear a dress because my legs were really swollen.
So my mom was in town at the time and I didn’t want to freak her out, so I waited until she left town a few days later to go to my primary care. And when I went there, the doctors did more blood work and said, something’s wrong with your kidneys. I’m going to send you for a CT scan. Go get it done within the week.
But I was really feeling that it couldn’t wait. Thankfully I didn’t listen. I went to the ER that very night after work.
The ER doctor diagnosed me with a 13 centimeter tumor on my right kidney and told me I needed to have surgery as soon as possible. He told me to go to a specialty hospital, not to just let any surgeon operate on me, which now that I know so much more about my disease than I did at the time, I realized it’s because it was a very complicated surgery they had to do.
And that was five days after my 29th birthday. I know my outcome would have most likely been very dramatically different had I not gone to the ER that night.
I was also diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder, known as hereditary leiomyomatosis and renal cell cancer (HLRCC), or Reed’s Syndrome.
Reaction to the Diagnosis
It took forever for me to get diagnosed, but once I did, everything lined up into place.
I think I just kind of shut down mentally after the ER doctor said, you have cancer. And I really struggled to process it. I almost felt for a minute there like if I said it out loud, it made it real, you know? I’m a very logical person, but it was hard to process.
I remember we got home from the emergency room, early the next morning because I had been there all night. I had to call my boss. It was a work day; I actually had a presentation that I was supposed to be giving that day. And so I’m thinking, oh my gosh, I have to call my boss and tell him I have cancer. And I actually sat in my chair in my living room and was practicing saying, “I have cancer” before I called him. I was trying to: one, make my experience a reality and, two, keep myself from crying while I’m telling him this. It just felt like a bad dream, honestly. It didn’t even feel real.
And there was about a month between my diagnosis and my surgery, and I was in terrible pain the whole month. You know, I just wanted to sleep and just not think about what was happening. So it took me a while, even after my surgery, to really come to terms with what was happening.
And I remember distinctly after my surgery, I was in ICU for, I think, about five days. And then they moved me to a regular room, and it was there that I finally went, I should probably look at my gown and see my doctors. I hadn’t even done that at that point. I think that was the moment that it really hit me, like, oh my God, my life is never going to be the same again. Like I knew that cognitively. But that was my emotional process. This isn’t just “I have surgery and I’m done with it and I move on with my life.” This is forever going to be something that I am now identifying as a cancer patient and cancer survivor.
It’s frustrating whenever I look back, because I know that at the time of my diagnosis, I had to have had cancer for at least a year, probably two plus. And the idea that had I not been diagnosed at stage four, I could have just had surgery and been done with it, I wouldn’t have reached a point where I’m being diagnosed with a terminal phase of this disease. It’s pretty heartbreaking and it’s really frustrating.
I went back and talked to my primary care doctor a few months after I was diagnosed. Obviously, I’d switched doctors at that point. But I talked to to her and the head of the clinic and I said, look, I know that you will probably never see another case like mine again, but, you know, there’s this phrase with rare cancer patients that they tell doctors at medical school to look for horses when you hear hoofprints, not zebras. And I’m a zebra.
Look, you’re going to go on and treat other patients. And you may never see another case like mine again, statistically speaking, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t have to see other cases that aren’t rare on their own. And I think that we are conditioned a lot of times, especially as women, to just accept diagnoses, if you’re telling me nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong, and I’m just going to believe that. But we know our bodies.
I really encourage people to trust their instincts when it comes to their health. You know your body best, you know if something’s wrong with you.
And I really wish I would have just kept listening to that little voice that I had in my head. You know, in my heart that said, Laura, something’s wrong.
I’m glad that I finally did, because that’s what encouraged me to go to the ER that night.
Surgery
The ER doctor told me that he’d already contacted a local urologist in Las Vegas, where I was living at the time, and that the urologist was going to help me get to either USC or UCLA in California for surgery. The ER doctor was very adamant that I needed to go to California for surgery.
I’m now realizing how extensive the tumor was. It’s not just that it’s 13cm, which is very large for a kidney tumor, but it was also blocking my vena cava, which is your main artery that brings your blood back up to your heart from your legs and all. Which is why my legs were so swollen. And so that’s a life threatening condition, which I’m glad I didn’t know at the time because I probably would have just completely shut down at that point.
I realize now that’s why the ER doctor was so insistent that he needed to go to California for surgery. And so the next morning we went to the urologist in Vegas, and he said there was one surgeon in town who may be willing to take your case. Didn’t want that. But he said, if you go to California, I’ll get you in at UCLA.
The doctor added, actually, I was you seven years ago, with kidney cancer. And if you go to UCLA, I will send you to the surgeon who operated on me. And sure enough, he did. He actually walked out of the exam room and called the surgeon on his cell phone and said, I’m sending you a patient from Vegas. And so I got into UCLA.
They did a phenomenal job with my surgery. I was incredibly lucky. I had two amazing surgeons and it was a five and half hour surgery, and they removed my right kidney, my right adrenal gland, most of my inferior vena cava, and seven lymph nodes. And we were hopeful that they’d removed all the cancer. And maybe I would need to do immunotherapy afterwards to keep it from coming back. So that was in June.
Cancer metastasized
But when I had my first scans in August, the cancer was spreading like wildfire.
And so at that point, the cancer was in my lungs and my liver and pretty much all the lymph nodes throughout my chest.
And the doctor at UCLA said, I could put you on this one treatment.
Again, I would just go back to if something doesn’t feel right, listen to your body.
I think even as cancer survivors, we tend to dismiss things sometimes, and so even if you’re in your cancer journey or you’re a survivor, you have to.
It’s advocating for yourself as a lifelong responsibility.
Treatment
Treatment Options
The doctor said, I don’t know if it’s going to work for you. I think you probably should look into clinical trials, but if you do that, you’re going to have to come back and forth a lot. And I know that’s going to be kind of a burden for you to do that. So there’s a doctor in Vegas who is a specialist in kidney cancer, and I would recommend you go see her.
And I was really nervous about switching my care back to Vegas because of the experiences I had before, obviously. I actually had debates with my family and friends on whether I was making the right decision to move my care from UCLA? And I said, you know what? I’m going to go ahead and try it.
And I wound up with the most wonderful oncologist, who, again, was a GU, a kidney cancer specialist named Doctor Vogelzang. And at the first appointment, he sat me down and said, look, here’s what you have. He was the first doctor to explain to me what specific type of kidney cancer I had, answered all my questions, said, I have these treatment options lined up for you. There were all clinical trials because at the time there was no standard of care for the type of kidney cancer I had.
And so he said, here’s the one I think is the best option for you. There were three other ones that he had lined up. And then he said, look, I’ll even do chemo if I have to. Chemo isn’t usually used for kidney cancer patients. But I was so young that he just was like, I’ll do whatever I can to try to give you as much time as we can.
So he explained the first trial and he said it’s four different types of treatments. It’s a randomized trial. I can’t promise you which one that you’ll get. We have no control over that. But there is one treatment on this trial that I think would be your best bet. He said, look, think about it. Let me know what you think in your next appointment, what you want to do.
Decision to Join a Clinical Trial
And I decided to join the clinical trial. The clinical trial that I was on was sponsored by a group called SWOG.
Even now people say to me, oh, that was so brave of you to choose a clinical trial. And I recognize now that it was a brave decision to do a clinical trial. And I’m really proud of my decision to do that. But at the time, it just felt like, what choice do I have? I have terrible choices to make. And, if I make the wrong decision, that’s my life in the balance. That’s how it felt.
I also remember having this conversation with a close friend on my next steps. I said, look, the doctor I met with in Vegas is saying he doesn’t think the treatment that UCLA recommended is going to work for me. And let’s be honest, I’m dying anyway.
So maybe this is a Hail Mary. Maybe this will help me to live a few years. My goal at the time was to see my kids graduate high school. But if not, at least I’ll be doing something that will help other patients at some point. And so that’s why I decided to do the trial.
Cabometyx (cabozantinib)
And I remember when they randomized my treatment. My doctor said, oh my gosh, you hit the jackpot. This is the drug I wanted you in. It was a drug called cabozantinib.
And, at the time, I didn’t know what that was. I thought I was going to be doing immunotherapy, which I’m now embarrassed to admit because I know the differences between the drugs now.
And so I’m like, I can’t believe I thought I was doing immunotherapy because I just didn’t know the difference. It was a targeted therapy drug. And I started it and I was just terrified. And of course, my doctor explained the side effects and I’m going like, wait, what’s going to happen to me?
But again, I was like, what choice do I have? I mean, I can’t die now. I knew at that point that I had no more than a year and I would be lucky if I had another year.
And so I actually pulled my kids out of school for my first day of taking my pills. They needed a mental health day anyway, I’m sure, they had been watching me go through this all summer. And so I brought them to this little hotel outside of Vegas. And they have a really nice pool and all and then I’m sitting here thinking gosh, this is probably dumb. What if I take the first pill and I have this terrible reaction and then my kids are, you know, even more scarred, because mom had to go rushing to the E.R., which thankfully didn’t happen.
Side Effects
The side effects of cabozantinib were rough, to say the least.
What’s hard about being a cancer patient who’s doing one of these newer forms of treatments, like targeted therapy or immunotherapy, is you don’t typically have the same outward side effects that people recognize, whether they think of cancer patients.
I didn’t lose my hair, but it actually turned white. That’s one of the typical side effects from this type of treatment. And that was heartbreaking for me because I’m 29, 30 years old. My hair is going white; even my eyebrows went white. And it’s just all those things that you try to tell yourself, okay, the prize is I live longer and it’s true. It worked for me. I don’t regret it for a second. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. But, you know, it does a number on you. It changes who you are.
I always say, kidney cancer helped me take the best pictures of myself that I ever took, which is terrible. I mean, I lost an unhealthy amount of weight. Honestly, looking back at pictures now is honestly kind of painful because I go, oh my gosh, I looked sicker than I realized I did
And because you don’t look like people expect a cancer patient to look, when I got back to work and all, they’d go, you’re doing great now, right? And like, no, I threw up three times before I left the house and had to drag myself out of bed because I was so fatigued and also, these targeted therapy drugs actually create a lot of GI issues. You get horrible diarrhea.
I recall standing in the grocery store aisle like about six months into my treatment, trying to pick out what adult diapers I was going to wear. I’m 30 and I’m buying adult diapers. And then I go to check out, I’m thinking, oh my gosh, this woman’s going to know, right? And she probably thought I was buying it for a grandparent or a parent or something.
You get all these side effects like it’s almost shameful to talk about. Your body is crumbling. And, again, it’s things that with traditional treatment you don’t always encounter. And of course, the side effects from traditional treatment are also horrible, too.
… if something isn’t sitting right with you even once you’re diagnosed, you know, if your doctor is telling you, oh, you should do this and something’s just not sitting right, get a second opinion. Get a third opinion if you need to.
You have to feel comfortable with your care.
NED Status
I reached NED within a year of starting Cabometyx, which is, like, insane. Incredibly hard to come across, to say the least.
I had a very rare response where I was 1 of only 2 of the 147 patients who had a complete response to treatment.
I wound up staying on Cabometyx for another about three years, because we just didn’t know what was going to happen after I had that first med scan. And so in 2020, my oncologist said, look, I think the side effects will kill you before the cancer does. Let’s see how you do coming off of it, which was terrifying because at that point it was my security blanket, right?
But I did successfully transition off Cabometyx. I stopped treatment in April of 2020, and now I have scans every six months. And thankfully I have had NED scans ever since. I just had a scan last January: I’m still NED. So I’m really, really fortunate.
And now I’m actually a patient advocate for the GU committee. And so I’m now actually working with the doctors that concluded the trial that I was on that saved my life.
So it’s honestly one of the most meaningful things that I do in my advocacy work, because it’s just a complete full circle.
Knowledge is power in every sense of the word.
You are a better patient if you are knowledgeable about your disease.
Words of Advice
I really encourage people to trust their instincts when it comes to their health. You know your body best, you know if something’s wrong with you. And I really wish I would have just kept listening to that little voice that I had in my head. You know, in my heart that said, Laura, something’s wrong. I’m glad that I finally did, because that’s what encouraged me to go to the ER that night.
Again, I would just go back to if something doesn’t feel right, listen to your body. I think even as cancer survivors, we tend to dismiss things sometimes, and so even if you’re in your cancer journey or you’re a survivor, you have to. It’s advocating for yourself as a lifelong responsibility.
And, you know, I’ve had the unfortunate gift of being not just a patient, but also a caregiver to my mom who passed away five years ago from complications of kidney cancer and lymphoma.
Also, I really encourage you, especially if you’re a younger patient who has a rare cancer, get genetic testing done. I encourage my family members to get genetic testing done, and receive their carrier for it as well.
And I always encourage anyone who has any kind of outliers in their health history that would indicate maybe they could benefit from genetic testing to take the tests. I know it’s scary to have a genetic disorder diagnosed, but I really wish I would have had the opportunity to know I had my disorder before I had cancer.
Knowledge is power in every sense of the word. You are a better patient if you are knowledgeable about your disease, which is what I really try to encourage patients and caregivers to do, to understand their disease.
And also, if something isn’t sitting right with you even once you’re diagnosed, you know, if your doctor is telling you, oh, you should do this and something’s just not sitting right, get a second opinion. Get a third opinion if you need to. You have to feel comfortable with your care. And if you’re not, you know it.
So you’re the best person that’s most knowledgeable about yourself, your body. Honor that in all the ways.
Symptoms: None; found the cancers during CAT scans for internal bleeding due to ulcers Treatment: Chemotherapy (capecitabine + temozolomide), surgery (distal pancreatectomy, to be scheduled) ...
Cancer details: Also known as urothelial (invasive), 5-10% of kidney cancers 1st Symptoms: Blood in urine Treatment: Nephrectomy (surgical removal of kidney and ureter) ...
Symptoms: Persistent left flank pain, backache, fatigue, weight loss, traces of blood in urine, fluid in left kidney Treatment: Chemotherapy (gemcitabine & carboplatin) ...
Interviewed by: Alexis Moberger Edited by: Chris Sanchez
Roger, a lawyer into startups and the venture capital scene and a sports enthusiast, hails from Silicon Valley in Palo Alto, California. He discovered that he had pancreatic cancer in 2022.
Roger enjoys a very active lifestyle and strives to live a healthy life, but suddenly suspected he had cancer after his blood sugar increased and he started to lose weight. A liquid biopsy–a Galleri blood test by the healthcare firm GRAIL–revealed strong signals for certain types of cancer, including pancreatic cancer. An MRI from the company Prenuvo found a mass on his pancreas, and a CT scan and tissue biopsy confirmed that he had stage 2 pancreatic cancer.
Pancreatic cancer is often seen as incurable and fatal, but Roger refused to accept this. His take-charge attitude to his health led him to conduct extensive research into his illness. Being based in Silicon Valley also gave him access to excellent medical care, but his openness to cutting-edge medical treatments–as well as the urgency of his case–brought him further afield, including to Japan, where he got the first dose of an advanced cancer vaccine.
Roger also made certain significant changes to his lifestyle, with an eye towards not only staying healthy, but also making his body as inhospitable to cancer cells as possible.
Roger is no longer on chemotherapy and undergoes follow-up protocols every 6 months. He shares his story to encourage cancer patients to be more assertive regarding their illnesses and overall health, to do their own research and seek out the best treatments available, to refuse to settle for “standard of care” treatment, and, lastly, to never give up hope.
Name: Roger R.
Diagnosis:
Pancreatic cancer
Staging:
Stage 2
Initial Symptoms:
None
Treatment:
5FU (folfirinox)
Gemzar (gemcitabine)
NK cell expansion therapy
Dendritic cell expansion therapy
Neoantigen peptide vaccine
This interview has been edited for clarity. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.
Your health care, your health is just too important to trust to a doctor, as odd as that sounds… It is my personal experience that you have to take charge yourself.
You have to tell your doctor what tests you want run. You have to tell your doctor what you’re concerned about. You know your body better than anybody does.
And if you think just even subconsciously, that there’s something going on that shouldn’t be, you need to tell them.
Introduction
I’m a lawyer and I do startups and venture capital in Silicon Valley, California, in the Palo Alto area.
In terms of hobbies, I work out a lot. I swim, bike, run, hike, do resistance training, winter mountaineering and ice climbing, rock climbing in the spring and summer–pretty much every sport and every activity you might imagine. I stay very active.
Pre-Diagnosis
Signs and not Symptoms
At the time, before I was diagnosed, I didn’t think anything was wrong. But looking back on it, let’s say I had no symptoms, but I did have signs. There were clues. And the one big one that I and my doctors completely missed was that my blood sugar increased just slightly. You see, my blood sugar has always been exactly where I want it to be.
And so I went in and I got blood tests. The doctor said, well, that just happens. You know, fasting glucose is kind of all over the place. Your a-1c is fine. It probably doesn’t mean anything. And I said, well, it must mean something. It’s higher than it was before. She said, well, we’ll come back in three months and test it again.
So I came back in three months and it had gone up even more. Not only that, I’d also lost 5 pounds in the meantime. And I Googled it, of course. And that was my first clue, because there’s like a million things that could cause that to happen, one of which is pancreatic cancer.
I know now that that always happens with pancreatic cancer, weight loss and blood sugar increase. I didn’t know it then.
Diagnosis
Galleri Blood Test by GRAIL
I went and got a battery of other tests, one of which was a liquid biopsy that first disclosed my cancer. So I used a blood test by Galleri by GRAIL. We call it liquid biopsy. This is a blood test that can detect 50 different cancers. They take blood, not tissue, and they can examine it and look for protein markers using strong AI to assist it, that will identify markers of different types of cancers and the tissue of origin.
Here’s the story of how I ended up getting a Galleri test.
Because I’m in Silicon Valley, I’m at the cutting edge of every new technology that comes out. And I’d heard about these tests being developed, and I’d been asking for them year after year. But the response was always the same: no such thing, it doesn’t work, it’s not available yet, you can’t have it, the FDA hasn’t approved it. Well, I was sitting in an airplane in April of 2022, reading a Tony Robbins book, and it mentions the Galleri test. And as soon as I landed, I started investigating.
Now, it took me a couple of months to actually get that test because a doctor has to prescribe it. That is just the rule in the U.S. I pushed ahead and found a telemedicine doctor that would prescribe a test.
I found an institution that advertised that they were all about preventative care. They’re all over the TV, a lot of advertising promoting that. What I liked about them is at least they didn’t say no, but I still had to tell them what I wanted. So like I told them long before this happened, I gave them a list of blood tests that I wanted, including the Galleri test.
It took about a couple of weeks before I got the results from the test. The doctor called me up and said, look, we found some signals for pancreatic or gallbladder or stomach or esophagus. And you should do further testing. It doesn’t mean you’ve got cancer. It just means we found strong signals, especially for pancreatic cancer.
And based on that, I went in for an MRI the very next day.
Prenuvo MRI
Well, again, you can go into your hospital and you can wait around until they come back from vacation and get around to scheduling you. Hopefully they’ve got the personnel to do it, and so on.
I didn’t do that. I went the very next day and got a private scan from a company named Prenuvo, which is right down the street from my house.
The results from the MRI took about a week to come back. It found a mass on my pancreas–a pretty imposing, concerning-looking mass. It was not well defined; it was large. In fact, they didn’t even think it was resectable.
So the Galleri test was alarming because they found the signal, the Prenuvo test was more alarming because it confirmed there was something going on in my pancreas that did not look good.
CT scan and tissue biopsy
Based on the MRI’s findings, I went to a CT scan and a tissue biopsy where they actually examine tissue. I had to get into the system because then I needed more sophisticated things. CT with contrast, biopsies, endoscopes, stuff like that.
And the CT scan and biopsy confirmed a diagnosis of stage two pancreatic cancer.
Primary care doctors’ attitudes
Now, prior to this point, what I heard from my primary care doctors was mostly: quit bugging me about this. It’s not serious. You’re not diabetic. You’re not pre-diabetic. You have no symptoms. And I’ll never forget these words. That is unnecessary testing. Boy, it was not unnecessary at all.
I guess I’ll admit, maybe I’m a little of a hypochondriac, but I want to check out every little thing. It’s just my personality.
This is the one big message I would like people to have.
Your health care, your health is just too important to trust to a doctor, as odd as that sounds. And as much as it pains me to say that, it is my personal experience that health is too important to trust to a doctor, you have to take charge yourself. You have to tell your doctor what tests you want run, and what you’re concerned about. You know your body better than anybody does. And if you think just even subconsciously, that there’s something going on that shouldn’t be, you need to tell them.
Reaction to the Diagnosis
I went through all of the stages of grief in about 12 hours, I think. Bargaining, anger, whatever they are. Sadness, acceptance.
The conventional wisdom about pancreatic cancer, what American Cancer Society says, is that it’s incurable and fatal. Stage two has a life expectancy of about 1 to 3 years on average.
Like a lot of cancer patients, I was angry at my doctors. It’s like, how could you let this happen to me? Until I finally came to the realization that, hey, it’s not their job to keep me healthy. That’s my job. This is my failure, not theirs.
Their job is to fix me when I’m sick, and that’s why I kept hearing from them. Come back when you’ve got symptoms. So, big lesson, find a doctor that’s willing to work with you and prescribe what you need to take care of your concerns. But then go out and self-educate and make sure you’re covering all the stuff that is silent or symptom free.
Another thing is that, yes, the statistics regarding pancreatic cancer are really bad–and even many prominent doctors will say things like, pancreatic cancer is a death sentence at any stage–but what I came to discover is that all of those doctors are looking at backward-looking data. Plus, that data is kind of old because you’ve got to wait a certain number of years to get it.
The statistics are based on the United States standard of care, on what we’ve done in the past under it. They are not based on what’s going on, going forward, and what’s out there in the future and what’s beyond standard of care.
And, also, statistics are very misleading because you have to make generalizations.
I talked to a lot of cancer patients and survivors, and one of the pancreatic cancer survivors I talked to–one of the few who’s survived for 12 years since his diagnosis–said, really, you have to think of yourself as a statistic of one, because every person is unique, every cancer is unique. It’s so hard to generalize and place your faith in those generalizations.
Big lesson, find a doctor that’s willing to work with you and prescribe what you need to take care of your concerns.
But then go out and self educate and make sure you’re covering all the stuff that is silent or symptom free.
Treatments
Since I live in Silicon Valley, I’m lucky to have access to two of the best institutions–Stanford Health and UCSF in San Francisco. They both have very well respected oncology departments and some of the best cancer doctors in the country.
I think I had top quality care from my doctors, and I am very grateful. But it wasn’t easy because I think our US medical system is just generally overwhelmed. And it’s just hard to get attention to get in. But again, this is where the patient has to be CEO and has to take charge. You have to be very, very assertive about these things. And I was very, very assertive.
Once, I did get in front of an oncologist and they saw the numbers, scans and blood test results, then everything changed. And all of a sudden my case was urgent. Because pancreatic cancer is very aggressive, very fast-moving, you can’t wait 2 or 3 months to go get a scan.
So they moved me along really quickly and put me into treatment quickly.
Chemotherapy: 5FU (folfirinox) and Gemzar (gemcitabine)
I talked to lots of doctors when it came to my chemotherapy. You know, a second opinion isn’t good enough for me. I think I spoke with a dozen oncologists before I decided on anything, because there are a lot of different options and it’s all up to the patient. You, the patient, have to decide which chemo you are going to get.
So ultimately at one point I just asked my oncologist. I said, wait a minute, are you telling me that this is up to me? And he says, yeah, I’m afraid so. You tell us. You have to decide. These are your options. This is what I recommend, but these are your options.
So we first went with 5FU (folfirinox). I will say that there’s a pathologist who looked at my tissue who says we guessed wrong. According to the pathology report, there was no treatment effect, so we switched chemo to Gemzar (gemcitabine). Three months of chemo, surgery, and three more months of chemo. And I ended that in February of 2023.
Side effects of chemotherapy
I had every side effect that you could possibly have from the chemo, plus some the doctors had never seen before.
The first thing my oncologist told me when I met him is, I want to apologize in advance for what I’m about to do to you. We’re going to be very aggressive about the chemo because you look like you’re strong enough to take it. And the thing about chemo, like most medicine in the US, you give the minimum effective dose, right? With chemotherapy it’s the maximum tolerable dose. Well, it turns out I can tolerate a lot.
So I had six months of just pure hell. I mean, it was pretty miserable. It looked like I had aged 20 years. It was super unpleasant.
Even though I’m cancer-free now, some of these effects are still with me. I still have some neuropathy, for example, and chemo did things to my arteries that I did not think would happen.
To combat the side effects of chemo, I was given a whole bunch of drugs and painkillers and anti-nausea and anti this and inhibitor that. I didn’t take any of them.
It’s like, you know what? The chemo is enough. it’s hard enough on my liver. I like my liver and my kidneys. So I didn’t take any of those drugs.
I said I would rather just lie here on my bathroom floor for a week and suffer than take any more drugs. And that’s what I did.
And I don’t recommend that approach to anybody else other than a masochist like me.
One of the treatments I’ve taken that is very cutting-edge and forward-looking is a cancer vaccine–a neoantigen peptide vaccine. The vaccine is not like a drug or a checkpoint inhibitor. You’re using your own cells.
I also received NK cell expansion therapy and dendritic cell expansion therapy, as well as some other things. Next month, I’m going in for a second round of a different set of targets, same concept, neoantigen peptides.
It took me a little while to find people that do this legitimately. But I did find these groups–and last year, I got my vaccine.
From the day I was diagnosed, I read NIH papers, PubMed papers, every single day. And I’ve gone down so many rabbit holes, you can’t imagine.
I read about a woman who lives in my neighborhood in Northern California who had stage four pancreatic cancer, and she got this vaccine–and afterwards, she went into a complete and total response, total remission. And I said, okay, I think there’s something there. I found it just through research.
I went to Japan to have mine, the first round anyway, because they are not subject to FDA rules, so they can move more quickly. And with pancreatic cancer, it’s important to move quickly. I didn’t want to wait around, so I went to Japan and got it done quickly.
Importantly, the physician I chose there also has his own lab, and that’s really important. So the administering physician also could get it from his own lab and I didn’t have to worry about any disconnect between those two components.
Now, I’m getting this vaccine in the United States under an expanded access application to the FDA. They also call that compassionate use, and that is an approach. But it’s another big red tape bureaucratic process that we should not make people go through. Furthermore, over here, it’s out of pocket and is very expensive, and I acknowledge that it may be simply beyond the reach of a lot of cancer patients. It costs so much because it’s not FDA approved. I’ve written and testified to the FDA about it. I’ve been beating a drum that we really need.
Now, I will tell people who are considering this vaccine that in Japan, it costs about one fifth of what it costs here. So take that for what it’s worth.
Lifestyle changes
As I sit here today, I am cancer free, at least for now. And you might ask, why is that? Well, I can’t tell you. It might have been the chemo, having had surgery at the exact right time, or metabolic factors. It was no doubt partly lifestyle changes.
I had to say to myself, what could I improve in my life that would make my body as inhospitable as possible to a cancer cell? And I made major, major changes.
Firstly, my diet is much different now than it used to be. It is as anti cancer diet as they come.
I was a vegan for five years before my diagnosis, which I thought was the healthiest diet you could possibly have. What I have since discovered is that it is not.
To get enough calories, given my exercise schedule, I just had to eat too much processed carbs and sugar. In retrospect, I see that I had the exact diet you would have if you were trying to get sick. I was just flooding my body with too little protein, too little fat and too little plant based whole foods and too much processed carbs.
Now that I wear a blood glucose monitor, I can see what they do to your body. And so I had to change. I’m not keto, but I am low carb.
So I keep my protein high so I can keep my muscle lean muscle mass high. And then fats. I’ve kind of shifted from saturated fats to healthier fats, the monounsaturated, polyunsaturated fats. No sugar, no alcohol, no processed carbs, very little red meat. Very little processed meat.
I eat so many vegetables, a lot of fiber, a lot of things good for the microbiome, sprouts for sulforaphane, stuff like that. Citrus, lemons, though not oranges. They’re a little too sugary for me.
I exercise a lot because that is probably the number one thing. Heavy exercise, studies show, reduces the risk of cancer recurrence by 50%.
And then there’s supplements. There’s cortisol. There’s sauna heat therapy. I learned in Japan that it creates heat shock proteins that a normal cell can manage just fine. But a heat shock protein to a cancer cell completely messes it up and maybe makes it visible to your immune system, or maybe just kills it through mechanical stress.
I’ve really gotten into cold therapy, cold water, ice baths.In the wintertime, I’ll go run in the snow with just my running shorts on as long as I can stand it. I think the cold therapy has made my immune system a lot stronger than it was. And it also increased the brown fat in my body. And I’ve got the DEXA scans to back that up, and that has reduced my blood glucose, which means that it’s less likely that these sugar hungry cancer cells are going to get all the nutrition that they want.
… don’t lose hope. Because everything is moving so quickly.
Words of Advice
Firstly, being your own advocate is super important and you just have to be assertive about this. That’s hard for a lot of cancer patients. It’s hard to demand that your doctor do stuff when they’re the expert–what do you know? But you’ve just got to be your own advocate and you have to self educate.
Number two is, if you do standard of care treatment, you’re going to get a standard of care result. And that’s all those bad statistics you’re looking at. Those are all standard of care statistics. You’ve got to be willing to go a little further than that.
And then the third thing is don’t lose hope. Because everything is moving so quickly.
Finally, it’s become obvious to me that our solution to cancer is not going to come from our traditional sources: big pharma, big government, public companies that have shareholders to report to. It’s going to come from the people I work with, startups.
We need companies that are willing to swing for the fences and try something big and bold and novel.
I really believe that the big, disruptive, game-changing cancer cure is going to come from my people, the startup community.
Interviewed by: Alexis Moberger Edited by: Chris Sanchez
Rachel was diagnosed with Stage 4 Hodgkin lymphoma at age 44. After initial misdiagnosis including eczema and other conditions, her symptoms progressed and her cancer was finally diagnosed correctly. She was initially hesitant to undergo chemotherapy, but upon learning that she would have approximately 6 months to live without it, and after consulting her family and other specialists, she agreed to undergo treatment. She was then put on chemotherapy for 6 months.
Rachel is from Almondsbury in the UK. Having been trained in musical theater, she has taught singing and drama in theater schools and has run her own business teaching singing for the better part of a decade.
Rachel’s cancer is now in remission. She shares her story with us–including her key challenges, frustrations, and struggles, and some important lessons and takeaways–in the hope that other cancer patients can benefit from and be inspired by her experience.
In addition to Rachel’s narrative, The Patient Story offers a diverse collection of Hodgkin lymphoma stories. These empowering stories provide real-life experiences, valuable insights, and perspectives on symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options for cancer.
I feel really positive. Because I’ve realized that my life was saved for a reason. And that starts with getting my story out there.
Pre-diagnosis
History of Illness
Long before my diagnosis, I was ill for quite a while, and I suspect that I may actually have had cancer even then.
In my 20s and 30s, I was a lot heavier. Over the years, I started to lose weight very gradually and very subtly. Since everybody knows that middle-aged women tend to gain weight as they get older rather than the reverse, this was a bit of a red flag.
I have a son. When I was pregnant with him back then, I was really ill. I had obstetric cholestasis. I found out through research that pregnant women who have obstetric status in pregnancy are at greater risk of developing cancer.
At the time, I also experienced severe nausea and terrible itching on my palms, the soles of my feet, and so on. I was induced and my son was born early because there was a risk of stillbirth. After giving birth, I lost a lot of weight quite quickly—and I do know that a lot of women take a while to regain their shape after giving birth.
Aside from my experience during pregnancy, I was always suffering from diseases like respiratory tract infections—tonsillitis, bronchitis, a whole heap of stuff—one after the other. Whatever was going around, I caught it.
Initial Symptoms
I knew that something was really, really wrong in the spring of 2020.
I developed a rash on my arm and I went to see the doctors. But COVID had just arrived and the doctors had far more interesting things to deal with.
My frustration was mounting because I knew that there was something really, really wrong and no one can get to the bottom of it.
Diagnosis
First Appointments, Misdiagnoses, and Progression
The doctors said it was eczema and I said I didn’t get eczema that way, but they insisted.
The rash went away, but in the spring of 2022, it returned with a vengeance. It was worse than before. The rash was so extreme that I broke the skin several times by scratching and it kept me up at night. Yet they kept saying it was eczema.
I also suffered from dizziness and nosebleeds on various occasions. Dizziness while putting my washing out on the line, staying in the kitchen, and other times; recurring nosebleeds that may have coincided with my menstrual cycle and even took place around the time I miscarried.
One lump turned to 2 then 3 then 4, and before I knew it, my legs were all covered in lumps. My rash had spread to cover the whole of my body save for my face. It was so intensely itchy that I couldn’t sleep and had to keep spreading cooling cream on myself.
The doctor suspected that I had tuberculosis or an autoimmune condition and sent me to have a chest X-ray. I was thinking he was going completely down the wrong path, but at this point, I was absolutely desperate so I agreed.
Getting the Correct Diagnosis
I didn’t think the chest X-ray would reveal anything, but it actually showed a shadow on my lungs.
I was fast-tracked to hematology where I was sent for a CT scan, which revealed that the lymph nodes in my chest and neck were swollen.
A needle biopsy of one of the lymph nodes came back as what they thought was stage 3 Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
Finally, the doctors ordered a full body PET scan, which revealed that what I actually had was stage 4 Hodgkin’s lymphoma and that it had started to creep into the edge of my lungs.
I asked the doctor about chemotherapy. Life had been pretty rubbish up to this point and I was on the fence about whether to take it or not. If I didn’t take the chemo, I asked him how long I had. He said six months.
Treatment
Considerations
I behaved a little bit like a child when I got the diagnosis. I felt completely boxed into a corner like I had no options aside from either chemo or death. What I did know about chemo scared the living daylights out of me.
I didn’t want to lose my hair. I’ve always had really good hair and I’d literally die rather than lose my hair.
There was also fertility. I’m really, really grateful for my son, but I’ve always longed for another child. I’ve suffered two miscarriages. I don’t qualify for egg freezing because in the UK, if you have one child, you’re already a parent and are automatically disqualified from egg freezing.
I talked it through a lot with my husband, my sister-in-law, a psychologist, nutritionist, physiotherapist, and clinical nurse specialists and decided to get on with it, even though my first session on October 4, 2022, very sadly coincided with my parents’ golden wedding anniversary.
I behaved a little bit like a child when I got the diagnosis. I felt completely boxed into a corner, like I had no options aside from either chemo or death.
ABVD Chemotherapy and Medicines
My chemotherapy was a cycle made up of two lots of infusions.
My treatment took place every two weeks. I would go in and have these IV medicines put in my PICC line then I would have my chemo on the same day as well. My first chemo session was made up of the PICC line going in and my first lot of chemo.
My sessions were once every two weeks for six months. Every other week, I would have a pre-chemo appointment to make sure that I was well enough to undergo treatment.
By the way, it wasn’t just IV drugs. Every day I had to take medicine at home as well. I used to load my pill box and take pills at home: steroids, dexamethasone, and then antivirals, acyclovir.
Side Effects of Chemotherapy
I had loads of side effects. The doctor said I had pretty much every side effect under the sun.
The first time was the worst, definitely. I started feeling unwell in the chemo chair. When I got home, it knocked me out. For days afterward, my self-care went downhill. I didn’t have enough energy to do anything apart from go to the toilet and brush my teeth—and even that felt like climbing a mountain.
I felt very, very cold when the chemo went in. My whole body was really, really cold. I immediately started bloating like a balloon. I could feel my stomach swelling when the IV drugs were going in. I also immediately started feeling quite nauseous.
I would come home after treatment, change into my pajamas, and get into bed feeling very nauseous and very bloated. I’d have a lot of stomach pain, and I’d lie there and wait for it to ease off and get a little bit better.
I’d have a lot of little pain in my legs, like a burning sensation, from fatigue. My legs would sort of give way on me. I literally felt like, How on earth am I going to get to bed? The fatigue was just insane.
I’d wake up in the morning and feel really thirsty straight away. I suffered from hemorrhoids, constipation, ulcers, cuts, and angular colitis. Cuts at the corner of my mouth. The hemorrhoid pain was absolutely the worst.
All that being said, I’d never been hospitalized or even had a temperature.
Dealing With the Side Effects
Soup, fresh air, and hugs helped with the side effects. Basically, distracting myself, like with things to watch. A lot of comfort-watching—whatever made me feel good. Whatever was funny, lighthearted, or anything familiar.
It was literally pure survival mode, anything just to get me through.
Remission
Apart from the side effects, everything went amazingly well in terms of progress.
Two cycles in, I had a PET scan that showed that I’d had a complete metabolic response. The doctors said, “We couldn’t ask for better than that.”
Everything in me wanted to stop. Surely I’m cured. But they said it doesn’t really work that way so I had to undergo about four more months of chemo.
Eventually, at the end of the chemotherapy, about six weeks after it stopped, I had another PET scan that showed that I’d had a complete response.
All the scans after chemo showed the best possible results.
Hang in there. Be patient because your emotions do catch up. Just give them time.
Processing the News
When I was told I had the all-clear, I didn’t feel a single emotion. I didn’t feel shocked, sad, confused—not even happy. It wasn’t as if I’d reached the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
I think it was like that for different reasons. My life had been a struggle before I was a cancer patient and now that my cancer’s been dealt with, all my concerns were still there. I had to step back into it and continue with it.
Eventually, I felt really bad and guilty about this because there are people out there who want to live. I felt guilty that I didn’t feel happy.
The lady I spoke with was ever so kind. She said, “You’re perfectly within your rights to feel exactly what you’re feeling. No judgment. No guilt. Whatever you’re feeling, even if you’re feeling nothing, that’s completely okay.” It was really lovely to connect with someone and hear those words.
I also found that having access to mental health services was absolutely necessary in terms of processing and moving forward. I had access to a psychologist through the UK National Health System. We determined that not everything that I talked about was related to cancer.
There were things we worked through that were issues before I had cancer, as well as those that will happen in the future. Honestly, I don’t think that my mental health would be in a good state right now if I hadn’t had access to a mental health professional.
Now, I feel really positive. Because I’ve realized that my life was saved for a reason. And that starts with getting my story out there.
Although initially, I wanted to look into medical negligence. I do believe my cancer could have been found years earlier with all my recurrent illnesses. I made a formal complaint in terms of the very late diagnosis of my cancer. I do plan to tell my story as well as complain. Now the complaint’s been dealt with.
Cancer is a life-changing experience. I’ve heard it said that if you have cancer, you’re never the same person you were before.
I think that if you have cancer and you’re still here to tell the tale, you’re still here for a reason.
Realizations and Takeaways
To cancer patients and caregivers who may also be feeling numb like I did, I’d say, hang in there. Be patient because your emotions do catch up. Just give them time.
I also want to say that my faith helped me. I’m a Christian and I feel that it’s as if God had His hand over the cancer, hovering over the edge of my lungs, and caught it before it could enter a major organ. Now I can say that it was not my time to go, even though I felt it had been my time for a long time.
Your body is incredibly clever at telling you that something is wrong. I knew the rash was not eczema. I knew something was really out of balance and I shouldn’t leave it alone. If I had left it alone, I wouldn’t be here today.
I kept going back to the doctor because intuitively, I knew something was wrong. I think the body tells you before the brain does, and the brain catches up. It’s just that we don’t really stop to listen.
Cancer is a life-changing experience. I’ve heard it said that if you have cancer, you’re never the same person you were before. I feel like I had a near-death experience insofar as if my cancer hadn’t been found, I would have died. I think that if you have cancer and you’re still here to tell the tale, you’re still here for a reason.
It’s a chance to regroup, to really look at your values, what’s important to you, and what you want your future to look like, considering you nearly didn’t have a future. What is really important and what isn’t so important: family, life, work, and faith.
Cancer details: Most common and most treatable form of Hodgkin lymphoma 1st Symptoms: Shortness of breath Treatment: 3 rounds (6 infusions) of ABVD chemo
Cancer details: Diagnosed at age 25 1st Symptoms: Swollen lump on right side of neck/chest area, continued to grow Treatment: ABVD chemotherapy (3 cycles = 6 infusions)
