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Drea Finds Identity and Strength with Stage 4 ROS1+ Lung Cancer

Drea Finds Identity and Strength with Stage 4 ROS1+ Lung Cancer

Drea is a video journalist who was only 26 when she was diagnosed with stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer. It came as quite a shock. She never imagined that a physically active, young non-smoker who had never had any health issues, could ever get cancer.

Interviewed by: Taylor Scheib
Edited by: Chris Sanchez

Drea’s story began in early 2023. She began to experience some strange symptoms, including a swollen ankle from an unexplained deep vein thrombosis or blood clot, odd bruising, extreme weight loss, and persistent shortness of breath. She went to the ER several times, had some urgent care visits, and also saw specialists, but was reassured that what she was experiencing was due to stress or other such causes. She started to doubt herself even as her health began to deteriorate. Eventually, she succeeded in having a CT scan done. It revealed a large mass in her lung. Further tests confirmed that she had stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer that had already spread to multiple locations.

Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Drea’s experience has convinced her that self-advocacy is key. She explains why we always need to trust our instincts. “If you feel deep inside that something’s wrong, keep pushing,” she advises. Because she was persistent, she eventually had comprehensive biomarker testing, which identified the ROS1 mutation. This discovery opened the door to life-extending targeted therapies.

Living with stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer has helped Drea redefine survivorship. It’s not just about existing; it’s about living fully. The targeted therapies she’s having allow her to enjoy climbing, biking, beach days, and gardening. She’s open and frank about her ups and downs, and acknowledges the chaos and struggle of having to navigate cancer in her 20s. But she’s decided to treat each day as an opportunity by focusing on what she can control rather than agonizing over the “what-ifs.”

Cancer didn’t strip Drea of her identity. Instead, it’s added new layers. She’s not just a video journalist anymore; she’s also an advocate, connector, and source of hope for others. She shares her story openly to help more people realize that “anyone with lungs can get lung cancer,” and, by doing so, to break the stigma that lung cancer is a smoker’s disease.

Drea urges others to be their own best advocate, seek second opinions, push for biomarker testing, link up with patient groups for support, and, most importantly, give themselves grace. Watch her video for more on:

  • Her diagnosis at such a young age and how she became her own health advocate against all odds
  • Drea’s struggle to be heard before her stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer diagnosis
  • How targeted therapies gave her her life back
  • Why Drea names her cancer ‘Carl’, and how humor helps her thrive
  • The advice she offers young people who don’t feel heard by doctors

Scroll down for the transcript of Drea’s video interview!


  • Name: Drea C.
  • Age at Diagnosis:
    • 26
  • Diagnosis:
    • Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer
  • Stage:
    • Stage 4
  • Mutation:
    • ROS1
  • Symptoms:
    • Swollen ankle resulting from a deep vein thrombosis or blood clot
    • Mysterious bruising
    • Extreme weight loss
    • Persistent shortness of breath
    • Rattling sound coming from the throat while breathing
  • Treatments:
    • Radiation therapy
    • Chemotherapy
    • Targeted therapies
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider to make informed treatment decisions.

The views and opinions expressed in this interview do not necessarily reflect those of The Patient Story.



I’m Drea

My name is Drea. I was diagnosed with stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer at 26.

When I first felt something was wrong

I first started feeling off at the beginning of 2023. It began with the DVT, which is a blood clot that resulted in a swollen ankle, and at the time, it didn’t make sense to me because there were no known injuries; I hadn’t fallen, I didn’t trip or anything. I had gone to urgent care, which then sent me to the ER, and then they discovered that it was for sure a blood clot, so they put me on thinners. Following that, I kept having these sorts of mysterious symptoms, among them just bruising up and down my body, and extreme weight loss. It felt like I was in a pit of despair. I felt like there was something off, and I don’t know how to describe that feeling. And I think throughout the process of 4 or 5 months, the symptom that started scaring me the most was the shortness of breath. I think by the time they came around, I had this really weird, awful, rattling sound coming from my throat. Google scared me when I googled that one up. The entire five months of these symptoms, I had gone to urgent care a couple of times, I had gone to the ER, I had seen a specialist, and I kept getting sort of brushed off, getting told, “You’re young, you’re probably just needing a little more rest, you’re probably just tired or stressed.” Cancer or any sort of serious disease was never really mentioned. But then I remember in May, going back to that same urgent care that months earlier had prescribed me an inhaler for the shortness of breath, that same urgent care doctor had finally ordered a CT scan. 

He gave me a call, and there was a sort of newfound sense of urgency in his voice. He told me I needed to go to the E.R. immediately. There was a mass that was found in the scan, and it did not look good. So I just drove myself over across the street and got admitted to the E.R. That was my first hospital visit that resulted in, I think it was like a 7 or 8 day stay.

They ran a swath of tests. My blood counts came back, not looking great, but nothing to signal cancer. But it was the imaging that scared doctors the most. They had found this huge lemon-sized mass on my right upper lobe, and sort of nodules scattered across it. They ended up doing a PET scan, and that’s when they found that there was also cancer up and down my spine and pelvis, and not even my noggin was spared, unfortunately. So they knew right away that this was serious and that it was likely cancer. And so I think it was maybe on day 4 or 5 of that hospital stay that they got me in for a bronchoscopy, and then I got the news.

The moment everything changed

Getting told that I had lung cancer at 26, as a never-smoker, never picked up a cigarette, or none of that, was shocking. I did not understand how that could even be possible. I never knew that non-smokers got lung cancer. My dad died of lung cancer in his 40s. He was a very heavy smoker, so I doubt he had any sort of mutations. But because of his lung cancer death, I had made the choice early on that I would never pick up a cigarette. I wouldn’t vape because I saw what it did to others. But then to find out that that didn’t save me from lung cancer was a shock.

Ten out of ten, I would not recommend getting your cancer diagnosis in the E.R. It is awful. So take that with you wherever you go. Try to establish care with the primary care physician who knows you and your history, because getting my diagnosis in the E.R. was not pleasant, to say the least. I think I was there anywhere between 5 and 7 days. It was complicated because after I got that diagnosis, I got discharged. I got sent home with no oxygen for some weird reason. Here’s a metastatic lung cancer patient who has cancer across both lungs, up and down the spine, in her noggin, and she still got sent home with no oxygen. And I just didn’t have anyone to check up on me in the way that I would imagine others would have if they didn’t get their diagnosis in the E.R.. It wasn’t until my at-home nurse noticed that my breathing was getting progressively worse, and she told me to head back to the E.R., that they found that my situation was getting even worse. And so the second time I got admitted, I had to get an emergency blood transfusion and start traditional chemo right away, the very next day, and that was the day that my oncologist told me, This doesn’t work.

We might have to put you in hospice. Because at this point, we had not gotten the biomarker testing results back. And so that was when things finally hit me that this was serious, that I don’t have my youth, I don’t have my young age to rely on, and that something needs to happen. And so I remember lying in bed with my mom by my side at this point, just panicking internally. And that was when I decided to just start calling around to see if there was a comprehensive cancer center that would take me right away, because I did not want to be put in hospice.

I took my health into my own hands

Hearing the word hospice just rattled me to my core. I knew that I had to do something to get myself from getting buried six feet under, and so I started crawling around trying to see what the next best option was. What is an option that is more familiar with these rare types of lung cancers? At the time, I didn’t know that I had ROS1 because we were still waiting on biomarker testing. But the oncologist at the time said that it was very likely, given the fact that I never smoked and I’m so young. I started calling around to this one major comprehensive cancer center in Florida. It was right after that conversation with the oncologist, and I think the call rep could hear the shakiness in my voice because I was trying to talk through tears, just trying to see if there was any sort of openings in the immediate couple of weeks. After all, things were serious, and as soon as I was discharged, I needed to seek care elsewhere to see what other options I had. Luckily, the lady found me in an appointment, and I was able to get in on time. I think it was two weeks later, and that’s how I ended up at my second hospital. 

Learning my biomarker

I was actually very lucky that my oncologist at the time knew that there was a specific subtype of lung cancers that tend to impact younger nonsmokers. And he happened to be working that day and saw my case, and he ordered comprehensive biomarker testing right away. I think I got the results after just a couple of weeks. I consider myself very lucky because if it weren’t for biomarker testing, I don’t think I’d be here today.

It allowed me to take targeted therapies, which have been shown to work well with my specific type of cancer. Targeted therapies in general have truly revolutionized what it means to be metastatic and living with lung cancer. And it’s just unfortunate that there are people across this country, across the globe, who are not afforded that option because they’re doctors, or the hospital care system just may not be aware that comprehensive biomarker testing is a thing. 

I was kind of all over the place, still trying to process the news. But when my oncologist at the time mentioned that comprehensive biomarker testing could open the window to newer forms of treatments, I was like, all right, let’s do it. And then when I finally got the news and I saw that I had ROS1, which tends to impact, I think it’s like 2 to 3% of all non-small cell lung cancer cases, I was like, great, so here’s to celebrating having a mutation, I guess, let’s do it. It was an interesting, interesting time. A couple of weeks later, my brother was doing some research on my behalf, and he found this incredible nonprofit advocacy group that does a lot to build community and share resources for people with ROS1. They’re called the Ross Wonders, and they have just been a godsend to me. They showed me how to be a better advocate for myself, they’ve connected me with those long-term cancer survivors, and they’ve shown me that you can still live a long and fulfilling life, although you have metastatic lung cancer. 

My treatment plan

As soon as we found out that I had ROS1, it became very apparent that we had a better option than that platinum-based chemo that I had already gotten one round of. At the time, I had also gotten radiation. But there has been such incredible research out there about these targeted therapies that the best course of action at that time was to just stop chemo and go on a TKI pill, and so I was put on my first drug. 

I got about three years of pretty great response, pretty great quality of life on what I like to call my beloved drug, and it was very good to me; it kept my cancer under control, and I was able to wrangle my control. And I was able to wrangle my life back from cancer in a way that I never envisioned, because I knew nothing about targeted therapies and what sort of quality of life that might have meant. It was great for me for about three years. Unfortunately, earlier this year, I had to switch to another drug, but thankfully, things have been going pretty well on this second TKI as well. 

It’s gotten a pretty good control on some of the new lesions that have popped up, and I’m still able to live a relatively normal life. I have a couple of annoying symptoms, but they’re still manageable.

Everyone’s different. Everyone’s going to react differently to each drug. We may have the same cancer with the same lesions and other comorbidities, but we may still react differently to whatever drug we’re taking. I consider myself pretty blessed because I seem to be a fairly good responder to TKIs. I don’t deal with any sort of debilitating symptoms. I know that that’s not the case for a lot of other ROS1ers; unfortunately, I wish it were. But so far, everything that’s been thrown at me has been manageable. I’ve been able to get back to my old life. I climb a lot, I bike, I’m able to take my dog on long walks, I’m able to be out in the sun and garden, I’m a very big beach bum, true Floridian. And I have TKIs to thank for that. 

How I feel about clinical trials

I will say a lot of people tend to fear the idea of clinical trials because they like to think, “I don’t want to be a lab rat, I don’t know what sort of outcomes I’m going to see if I join a clinical trial studying a very new drug.”

Editor’s Note: In cancer trials, no one is given only a sugar pill when an effective standard treatment exists. Instead, participants receive either the current standard-of-care treatment or the standard-of-care plus a new therapy being studied, and everyone is closely monitored for safety and benefit. Many of the oncologists we interview describe cancer clinical trials as "getting tomorrow's medicine today."

There are a lot of incredible treatments out there that are revolutionizing what it means to live with these sorts of subtypes of lung cancer, whether it’s ALK, EGFR, or ROS1, like what I have. These therapies are exciting; they’ve shown a lot of great promise. A lot of times, these drugs are being tested for years in a clinical trial setting, and there is early data that you can glean from and decide if that’s a good option for you at the time. If I’m ever at a point where I do run out of TKIs, I will gladly volunteer for science and to help the next lung cancer patient get access to even better drugs in the future. 

How I’m navigating my diagnosis and being young

Navigating cancer in your 20s and 30s is incredibly messy; it is chaotic. It is a roller coaster you go through, so many loops, it’s complicated. 

I’m not going to deny that, it’s not an easy feat. I’m metastatic, which has caused me to grow up in a lot of different ways. For people who have been diagnosed at earlier stages, it is life-changing. Just because treatment wraps up and your hair grows back and you’re in remission or you’re cured, does not mean that your life goes back to normal or that you’re even the same person you were the day that you were diagnosed. So it is complicated, and I try to remind every cancer patient that I meet to just give themselves grace. It is a work in progress. I am three years out, three years into survivorship, and I am still learning what it means to live with metastatic cancer, and to live each day as if I’m living, not as if I’m dying.

Honestly, I try to just make the most out of whatever time I have left. If it is three months, if it is three years, if it is six years. Let’s pray for six years, I will take six years happily. I like to treat every day like a new day. 

And if I’m having a crappy day or just the type of day where you just don’t want to get out of bed and you’re just stuck doom scrolling on your phone, I try to remind myself that tomorrow is a new day. 

I used to just get stuck on all the what-ifs. Like, what if I spoke up sooner? What if I pushed for answers sooner? Would my life have been different? Would my cancer have been when it was stage 2 or 3 instead of stage 4? But at the end of the day, what does that do for you? What are you thinking about, the crappy cards that you were dealt day after day? What does that do for you? And so I try to just remind myself to focus on the things that I can control. And that is what my life moving forward is going to look like. Whether that’s for three months, three years, or however long, I know that I just want to make the most of each and every day.

“Hope” is a complicated word for me

I am cautiously optimistic that I will be able to get a good chunk of time out of whatever TKI lines are currently available. And I hope that I will be able to respond well to those therapies until the next best thing comes out. 

And there are a lot of really new and exciting TKI drugs currently being studied in clinical trial settings. I try to talk to my cancer from time to time and just be like, “Oh, Carl, can you give me three years of peace, until that next best thing comes out?” I know that next year there’s going to be another TKI out in the market, or at least that’s what my oncologist has said, and what we hope is that it’s going to get approved by the FDA. I try to count my blessings every day and try to beg Carl from time to time to just behave for a little longer, and just go from there.

I like to view my cancer as an insidious roommate that just does not pay rent, that has been uninvited. What is the most awful name you could give that imaginary roommate? And the first name that came to mind is Carl, so his name is Carl.

Carl used to be lemon-sized, around five centimeters. I think he’s down to two centimeters, and he’s been stable. 

He’s been behaving this way this whole time. It’s just that I get random lesions outside of the primary tumor that pop up, but for the most part, he’s been good.

What I want others to know

My last piece of advice would just be not to take a lot of stock in survival statistics or prognosis. My first oncologist told me I likely had just three months to live; lo and behold, I’m still here. Three years later, and I’m still going strong, I’m still kicking. 

And I hear it all the time in the lung cancer community, fellow patients who have been given months to live, a year to live, and they’re still doing well. And while that may not be true for everyone, there is reason to remain cautiously optimistic because newer therapies are coming out every couple of years, and science is advancing in a lot of incredible ways.

I want people to know that anyone with lungs can get lung cancer. You do not have to be smoking eight packs of cigarettes a day to get lung cancer. I was 26 when I was diagnosed, and I have not once picked up a cigarette or a vape or any of that stuff, but I still got diagnosed with stage four non-small cell lung cancer. It is something that is happening to more and more young people, year after year, and we don’t know why. It’s terrifying. 

If you’re feeling out of breath, if you’re seeing a lot of troubling symptoms that don’t make sense, whether it’s back pain and then this weird rattling sound coming from your throat, and you’re getting told by your doctors you’re fine, it’s probably pneumonia or asthma, here’s an inhaler, don’t listen to them. Seek better care and keep pushing for answers, because lung cancer cases amongst nonsmokers are going up. And at the end of the day, you’re going to be your own best advocate.


Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
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Drea C., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ROS1+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Swollen ankle resulting from a deep vein thrombosis or blood clot, mysterious bruising, extreme weight loss, persistent shortness of breath, rattling sound coming from the throat while breathing

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Categories
Chemotherapy Lung Cancer Lung Resection Metastatic Spine Tumor Surgery Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient Stories Radiation Therapy ROS1 Surgery Targeted Therapy Treatments

Biomarker Testing Gave Lysa New Hope with Stage 4 ROS1+ Lung Cancer

Biomarker Testing Gave Lysa New Hope with Stage 4 ROS1+ Lung Cancer

I was 40 years old, very busy, still raising my kids, and working and going to school at the same time when I was diagnosed with stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer. Lysa’s experience highlights her resilience and serves as a prime example of what self-advocacy can lead–in her case, lead to a new therapy.

At 40, she experienced severe mid-back pain that she and doctors initially thought was just a pulled muscle. Later, however, her symptoms worsened, leading to a shocking diagnosis: lung cancer that had already spread to her spine.

Interviewed by: Nikki Murphy
Edited by: Chris Sanchez

Though her lung cancer was initially responsive to chemotherapy, Lysa was determined to learn more about it. This pushed her to reach out to fellow lung cancer patients on online patient communities. She also learned about biomarker testing, which empowered her to seek a second opinion, ultimately undergoing surgery solely to obtain tissue for comprehensive biomarker analysis. The result? She discovered she was positive for the ROS1 mutation. This qualified her for targeted therapy that significantly improved her quality of life.

Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

When her non-small cell lung cancer progressed, Lysa didn’t settle. She advocated for herself again, enrolling in a clinical trial that has kept her stable. Thanks to targeted therapy and clinical trials, she’s celebrated many milestones, including her daughter’s graduations and the birth of her first grandson, as well as other important moments with family and friends.

Lysa’s stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer experience shows how critical biomarker testing and clinical trials are in expanding treatment options. Her story is a testament to the power of self-advocacy, community support, and the importance of never giving up on seeking better care.

Watch Lysa’s video and read her story below to:

  • Find out how her back pain revealed her life-changing diagnosis
  • Learn why biomarker testing became Lysa’s game-changer
  • Discover how a targeted therapy and a clinical trial gave her more time with her loved ones
  • See how Lysa’s self-advocacy with ROS1ders changed her stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer care
  • Meet the woman who thrives beyond her diagnosis

  • Name: Lysa B.
  • Age at Diagnosis:
    • 40
  • Diagnosis:
    • Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer (NSCLC)
  • Staging:
    • Stage 4
  • Mutation:
    • ROS1
  • Symptom:
    • Severe but intermittent back pain
  • Treatments:
    • Chemotherapy
    • Radiation therapy
    • Targeted therapy, including through a clinical trial
    • Surgeries: lung resection, metastatic spine tumor surgery
Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Thank you to Nuvalent for supporting our patient education program. The Patient Story retains full editorial control over all content.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider to make treatment decisions.



You think you’re doing what you can to take care of yourself. I quickly learned that none of that really matters. If you have lungs, you can get lung cancer.

Lysa B. – Lung cancer patient

About Me

Hi, I’m Lysa. 

I was diagnosed with stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer with an ROS1 mutation.

Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

When I First Noticed That Something Was Wrong

I had just graduated from college. I was 40 years old, very busy, still raising my kids, and working and going to school at the same time. 

I started having back pain. It wasn’t a typical lower back pain that you’d get by straining yourself doing something, though that’s what I kept telling myself. It was a little bit higher, right in the middle of my back. 

My husband and I took our daughter to California for a vacation, and we visited SeaWorld in Disneyland. There were two nights when I would lie down, the pain was so bad that I felt like I couldn’t breathe right, and I couldn’t sleep. My husband said, “We have to go to the E.R., we have to figure out what’s going on.” 

We went to the E.R. around midnight. There, they were concerned about my kidneys because of the back pain. But my kidneys were fine, so they thought I’d just pulled a muscle. They gave me a few muscle relaxers and pain medicines to get me through the weekend, and they told me, “Follow up with your doctor when you get home.” And the next day we went to Disneyland for 12 hours. 

I agreed that I must have just pulled a muscle. Everything seemed to be fine. I was 40. I was healthy. I was a runner. I was in great shape at the time, or so I thought. So you shouldn’t ever believe that cancer is not on your radar.

The pain was intermittent, so I was able to ignore it and push through. I was taking a lot more Tylenol at that point, icing the area, and getting massages. But it wasn’t getting better. 

I went on a vacation to see my family in Kentucky, and the pain got so bad coming home from the airport. I was traveling alone, and I remember calling my mom, crying, and telling her, “I can’t even walk through the airport right now.” She went, “Get a wheelchair, just get home. We’ll take care of it.” 

The next morning, we went to the E.R. again, this time to an E.R. near where we lived. They did multiple tests, a CT, a full MRI of my entire spine to try and see where the pain was coming from, as well as a chest X-ray.

Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

I was in great shape at the time, or so I thought. So you shouldn’t ever believe that cancer is not on your radar.

Lysa B. – Lung cancer patient
Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

The Moment Everything Changed

Several hours later, the E.R. doctor came in and told us, “You have to sit down. It appears that you have stage 4 lung cancer that’s already spread to your spine.” 

I had just lost a friend to lung cancer about five months before that, and she had only been 43. So I immediately thought, “Oh my God. Who’s going to raise my kids?” My son was 19, but he still needed me. My daughter was 11.

You think you’re doing what you can to take care of yourself. I quickly learned that none of that really matters. If you have lungs, you can get lung cancer. Unfortunately, sometimes you’re just dealt a crappy hand.

How I Learned About Biomarker Testing

Right after I was diagnosed, I found an online forum where I started talking to other patients. Mostly, I just connected with them and tried to seek support. And through that forum, I learned so much about lung cancer. 

It’s not one disease. You don’t just treat it one way. And there are biomarkers, which are proteins that drive your cancer to grow. They are specific to certain lung cancers, and they typically tend to be in younger women, mostly under 50.

I did talk to my oncologist about it, but I was having a great response to chemo at the time. So she just said, “When the time comes, we’ll look into that.” I was okay with that for a while, and it wasn’t until I had progression about 15 months later that we decided to try and do another biopsy to get enough tissue to do biomarker testing.

At that point, my tumor had a lot of scar tissue around it. It was in a hard-to-access spot. We had done two needle biopsies through my lung, which were inconclusive and didn’t have enough tumor DNA actually to tell if there were any biomarkers or not. So my oncologist wanted to try another chemotherapy, and at that point I said, “There’s got to be something better than this.” And I switched oncologists.

Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Learning I was ROS1+ and Taking the Only Treatment Option Available Then

Within a couple of weeks, I was seeing a new doctor, Dr. Vogelsang. He pushed for me, and that validation helped me realize that this man was going to help me do whatever I needed to do for however long I wanted to do it.

At the time, it took several weeks to get my results back. It was stressful, and I was trying to be hopeful. Plus, I was recovering from surgery. 

My phone rang at 10 p.m., and I don’t normally answer my phone if I don’t know who’s calling me, but I answered, and it was Dr. Vogelsang. He said, “We’ve got great news, your results are in. And you’re ROS1-positive.” 

He was super excited about it, and I was too. I knew that meant I was eligible for targeted therapy. I wouldn’t have to do chemo anymore. So it was great. It was literally a game-changer for me.

By the time I found out what my biomarker was, it was 2013. I had already been diagnosed with and living with lung cancer for 18 months. I started getting nervous around that time; it was like I was feeling I was on borrowed time. I wondered when it was going to quit working. 

I was eligible for targeted therapy. I wouldn’t have to do chemo anymore… It was literally a game-changer for me.

Lysa B. – Lung cancer patient

I Joined a Clinical Trial When My Stage 4 ROS1+ Cancer Progressed

We added chemo to my targeted therapy in the hope that it would get me at least to the end of that year, seven or eight months away, before I might start on that drug. Well, I remained stable with that combination for another five years, so I was able to stay on my first targeted therapy for ten years. 

By the time I progressed again after those five years, I had a new biopsy. I did have new metastases in places I’d never had before, and it seemed to be fairly aggressive. It went from nothing on a scan to not significant to more than doubling in size two months afterward. I knew we had to do something quickly. 

We did a biopsy on my 50th birthday. That was fun. And based on those results, I decided to go on a clinical trial. So in June 2023, just over two years ago, I started a phase one clinical trial that I had to travel to Tennessee for.

I’m still in that trial. I actually went again just last week. I just got my scan results back, and I’m still stable. So I’m extremely happy about that.

I feel pretty good on this drug, which is nice. And I don’t have to do chemo anymore. Because of this drug, I’ve lived long enough to see my first grandson. The drug is in pill form. I’m able to have my scans at home.

Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Targeted Therapy Has Changed My Quality of Life for the Better

When I was diagnosed, my youngest was 11, and she was in fifth grade. Honestly, my first goal was to see her graduate from high school. I wanted to give her that much, at least, to get her there. Of course, I was the loud lady at her graduation. I was so excited and crying and bawling. 

I’ve since gotten to see her graduate from college. I have just had our first grandson this year. And my son was 19; he was older, but he still needed some help, and I have been able to see him flourish and find his way in this world. 

My husband and I love to travel and eat. I have a great friend group here. We do trivia every week. My parents live two miles from me; I just hung out with my mom all day the other day.

I know I’m lucky that I can do those things. I’ve always been such an on-the-go person, the type who has to take care of everything right now. I can’t go to bed till the dishes are done, that sort of thing. I need structure, and I might have been a little extreme. 

Now, I don’t care if there are dishes in my sink. I try not to let external things get me down. And I focus on trying to find the joy in every day. 

My biggest happiness is when I’m with my family and my dogs. I love my dogs.

I try not to let external things get me down. And I focus on trying to find the joy in every day. 

Lysa B. – Lung cancer patient

Anyone With Lungs Can Get Lung Cancer

One of the first questions many people ask you when you tell them you have lung cancer is, “Did you smoke?” It used to make me angry, because it felt accusatory. But I really think when people ask that question, if they’re nonsmokers, they’re trying to be like, “Oh, well, that’s why you got it.” 

I honestly don’t think they come from a bad place, but it makes you feel bad, like you have to defend yourself. My grandmother died of lung cancer, and she was a smoker her whole life. Can we blame her for her death? 

Everyone deserves access to care. We have lung cancer. It doesn’t matter how we got it. And there are many risk factors out there, so many that we don’t even know how to correlate them, though we do know that they contribute to lung cancer.

I have friends who are vegetarians, yoga instructors, lifelong runners, and so on. People who thought they did all the right things. And yet we still got lung cancer. I still ended up getting stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer.

Cancer doesn’t discriminate.

Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

You do not have to be alone.

Lysa B. – Lung cancer patient
Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

My Advice to Others

There are patient groups for most of these biomarkers. There are maybe a dozen online. Many of them have websites. You can look them up and join them. You do not have to be alone. 

They are a huge source of not only support but also knowledge. Like the ROS1ders in particular. It is scientifically vetted by researchers, as well as all of our information about the drug options. What works for us, what doesn’t, how to deal with side effects. There are patient stories on there. There is a large community out there that many people might not know exists. I am proud to be part of ROS1ders

These patient groups aren’t just for other patients. We’re seen and invited to medical conferences now. Doctors and researchers collaborate with these groups to do better for the people in our community. So please reach out to them if you have a biomarker. It’s so important.

Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Special thanks again to Nuvalent for its support of our independent patient education content. The Patient Story retains full editorial control.


Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer
Thank you for sharing your story, Lysa!

Inspired by Lysa's story?

Share your story, too!


More Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Stories

Jennifer M. EGFR-positive lung cancer

Jennifer M., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, EGFR+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: None per se; discovered during physical checkup for what seemed to be a sinus infection

Treatments: Radiation therapy (stereotactic body radiation therapy or SBRT), targeted therapy
Dr. Ross Camidge stage 4 lung cancer

Dr. Ross Camidge, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: sore shoulder muscle, breathing sounded different
Laura R. ALK+ lung cancer

Laura R., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ALK+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Persistent cough, fatigue, bone pain

Treatments: Targeted therapies (tyrosine kinase inhibitors or TKIs, including through a clinical trial)
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Drea C., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ROS1+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Swollen ankle resulting from a deep vein thrombosis or blood clot, mysterious bruising, extreme weight loss, persistent shortness of breath, rattling sound coming from the throat while breathing

Treatments: Radiation therapy, chemotherapy, targeted therapies
Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Lysa B., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ROS1+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptom: Severe but intermittent back pain

Treatments: Chemotherapy, radiation therapy, targeted therapy (including through a clinical trial), surgeries (lung resection, metastatic spine tumor surgery)

 


Categories
Lobectomy Lung Cancer Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient Stories Surgery Treatments

Having ROS1 Mutation: Ashley’s Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Story

The Importance of Knowing My ROS1 Mutation: Ashley’s Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Story

At 38, Ashley was living a healthy, active life, balancing work and motherhood with her two young children. The last thing she expected was a diagnosis of stage 1 ROS+ non-small cell lung cancer in September 2024. Her story is one of self-advocacy, resilience, and the emotional complexities accompanying such life-altering news.

Interviewed by: Nikki Murphy
Edited by: Chris Sanchez

Ashley’s experience was kicked off by the unexpected discovery of a lump on her chest wall in July 2024. Though her primary care doctor and OB-GYN diagnosed it as a lipoma or a benign fatty lump, Ashley trusted her instincts and pushed for further evaluations. A series of tests, including an ultrasound and eventually a CT scan, revealed something more concerning: a lung nodule.

Ashley H. stage 1 non-small cell lung cancer

For a brief, terrifying moment, Ashley thought she might have metastatic sarcoma. The emotional whiplash was overwhelming. Relief came when the chest wall mass did turn out benign, but the lung nodule biopsy confirmed stage 1 ROS1 non-small cell lung cancer. She was blindsided. As a nonsmoker with a healthy lifestyle, lung cancer wasn’t even on her radar. The shock was compounded by the fear of what this meant for her young children.

Ashley’s story underscores the importance of self-advocacy in healthcare. Unsatisfied with initial recommendations, she sought second opinions, pushing for genetic testing, which is not standard for early-stage lung cancer patients. This persistence paid off when she discovered she had a ROS1 gene mutation, information critical for her future health monitoring. She also connected with a ROS1 specialist, arming herself with knowledge for proactive care.

Ashley underwent a lobectomy to remove the cancerous part of her lung. Recovery wasn’t easy. She candidly shares the physical pain, the mental toll, and the challenges of balancing healing with motherhood and work. The surgery left her with 30% less lung capacity, which surprisingly didn’t limit her daily activities as much as she feared.

The hardest part of her stage 1 ROS+ non-small cell lung cancer experience? Not the physical recovery, but the effects on her mental health. Ashley grappled with medical PTSD, anxiety, and survivor’s guilt, especially when she became immersed in the lung cancer community and saw others with more advanced stages. She wrestled with her emotions, thinking, “Why me?” as a healthy nonsmoker, and “Why did I get lucky to catch it early when others didn’t?”

Ashley wants others to understand that there’s no need to find a silver lining in cancer. It’s okay to feel sad, fearful, and resentful. She emphasizes the value of simply having people listen without trying to “fix” their emotions.

Watch Ashley’s video and take a deep dive into her stage 1 ROS+ non-small cell lung cancer story:

  • “I never thought I’d get lung cancer at 38 — especially as a nonsmoker.”
  • How a benign lump led to Ashley’s life-saving lung cancer diagnosis.
  • “The hardest part wasn’t the surgery; it was the mental toll afterward.”
  • Survivor’s guilt: why catching cancer early isn’t always a relief.
  • The key piece of advice Ashley offers to anyone facing a tough diagnosis.

  • Name:
    • Ashley H.
  • Age at Diagnosis:
    • 38
  • Diagnosis:
    • Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer
  • Mutation:
    • ROS1
  • Staging:
    • Stage 1
  • Symptom:
    • No lung cancer-specific symptoms; sudden appearance of lump on chest wall
  • Treatment:
    • Surgery: lobectomy
Ashley H. stage 1 non-small cell lung cancer
Ashley H. stage 1 non-small cell lung cancer
Ashley H. stage 1 non-small cell lung cancer
Ashley H. stage 1 non-small cell lung cancer
Ashley H. stage 1 non-small cell lung cancer
Ashley H. stage 1 non-small cell lung cancer

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider to make informed treatment decisions.

The views and opinions expressed in this interview do not necessarily reflect those of The Patient Story.


Ashley H. stage 1 non-small cell lung cancer
Thank you for sharing your story, Ashley!

Inspired by Ashley's story?

Share your story, too!


More Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Stories

Jennifer M. EGFR-positive lung cancer

Jennifer M., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, EGFR+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: None per se; discovered during physical checkup for what seemed to be a sinus infection

Treatments: Radiation therapy (stereotactic body radiation therapy or SBRT), targeted therapy
Dr. Ross Camidge stage 4 lung cancer

Dr. Ross Camidge, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: sore shoulder muscle, breathing sounded different
Laura R. ALK+ lung cancer

Laura R., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ALK+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Persistent cough, fatigue, bone pain

Treatments: Targeted therapies (tyrosine kinase inhibitors or TKIs, including through a clinical trial)
Drea C. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Drea C., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ROS1+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Swollen ankle resulting from a deep vein thrombosis or blood clot, mysterious bruising, extreme weight loss, persistent shortness of breath, rattling sound coming from the throat while breathing

Treatments: Radiation therapy, chemotherapy, targeted therapies
Lysa B. stage 4 ROS1+ lung cancer

Lysa B., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ROS1+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptom: Severe but intermittent back pain

Treatments: Chemotherapy, radiation therapy, targeted therapy (including through a clinical trial), surgeries (lung resection, metastatic spine tumor surgery)

Categories
Alimta (pemetrexed) Avastin (bevacizumab) Carboplatin Chemotherapy Lung Cancer Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient Stories Targeted Therapy The White Ribbon Project Treatments Xalkori (crizotinib)

Luna’s Stage 4 ROS1+ Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer

Hope and Health: Luna’s Experience With Stage 4 ROS1+ Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer

Luna, a retired genetic counselor, was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer (non-small cell adenocarcinoma of the lung, ROS1+) in December 2012 at age 54, despite having no lung symptoms before diagnosis. She shares her story of discovery, her reaction to hearing that she had cancer, and the steps she and her medical team took afterwards. 

Interviewed by: Taylor Scheib
Edited by: Chris Sanchez

The diagnosis was unexpected, as Luna had been active and healthy, with no risk factors for lung cancer. Her initial reaction was shock, but she subsequently maintained a practical approach, focusing on treatment options. 

Luna underwent traditional chemotherapy and later got tested for the EGFR and ALK genetic mutations, for which she turned out to be negative. However, her doctors discovered that she had the ROS1 mutation. She was then given a targeted oral chemotherapy medicine that eventually stabilized her stage 4 lung cancer. 

Luna finds hope and positivity crucial in managing her health, establishing a strong support system, and encouraging biomarker testing for comprehensive treatment plans. She emphasizes the importance of a positive attitude, a balanced lifestyle, and gratitude. Luna wishes to raise awareness about lung cancer, especially among non-smokers, and supports broader screening programs.


  • Name: 
    • Luna O.
  • Age at Diagnosis:
    • 54
  • Diagnosis:
    • Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer (Adenocarcinoma of the Lung)
  • Mutation:
    • ROS1+
  • Staging:
    • Stage 4
  • Symptom:
    • None involving the lungs; severe abdominal pain
  • Treatments:
    • Chemotherapy
    • Targeted therapy

We would like to thank The White Ribbon Project for its partnership.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider to make treatment decisions.



So much of it is an attitude of gratefulness. I feel gratitude every single day, and that feeling keeps me going for tomorrow. 

Luna, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient

Introduction

I was diagnosed in December 2012 at the age of 54 with stage 4 lung cancer. I had a small lung tumor, but my liver was loaded, and it had seeded many of my bones.

My husband is a pediatrician. We’ve been married for 38 years. We have two adult children, Nathan and Nina, and two grandsons, Nori and Kai. I used to be a genetic counselor and worked in pediatrics, prenatal genetics, and public health genetics. In 2024, I retired after 41 years of genetic counseling.

I’m grateful because I have such an incredible village of friends and family who’ve supported me not only after my cancer diagnosis but also pretty much throughout my life.

Before My Diagnosis

My stage 4 lung cancer diagnosis has a somewhat unusual history. I’ve never had any lung symptoms. 

The week before my diagnosis, my family and I traveled to Machu Picchu in Peru. I had been training because I didn’t want to hold my family back. At the time of this trip, I was probably the fittest I had been in 20 years.

Two days after returning from that trip, I began to experience severe abdominal pain. I was convinced it was due to drinking contaminated water during my travels. I had to visit the ER. There, the doctors performed imaging and discovered that I had advanced cancer.

I’m grateful because I have such an incredible village of friends and family who’ve supported me not only after my cancer diagnosis but also pretty much throughout my life.

Luna, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient

My Stage 4 Lung Cancer Diagnosis

There was a small tumor in my lung. My liver was loaded and most of my bones had tumors in them as well. 

We didn’t know how my stage 4 lung cancer started at the time, but I had no symptoms. No shortness of breath, nothing. I did experience some aches when I was training, but I thought they were due to my age and physical activity, so I brushed them off.

How I Reacted

The ER doctor took a long time to get back to my husband and me. I later learned from a friend of ours who works in the ER that this physician was looking at my imaging. He was having trouble coming in to talk to us about the findings.

When he finally did come in, he said, “We found lesions in your lung, liver, and bones. We’d like to admit you so we can figure out where these tumors came from.” 

I said, “Time out. Are you telling me that I have cancer?” And he said, “Yes.” He never said the word itself.

I was stunned and couldn’t believe what he said. I was such a low-risk person for lung cancer and had always been such a healthy person. Again, we did not know how it started at the time. So, I was admitted for a couple of days and had lots of blood tests and more imaging.

I had no risk factors. Back then, I didn’t know that people who never smoked could still get lung cancer. I didn’t know enough about cancer itself, even about the stages of cancer. I was in that place of ignorant bliss. We were sitting with our friend who’s a surgeon and my husband was crying. I was so sad and said, “Don’t cry. Maybe this isn’t a big deal.” However, our friend said, “It is a big deal.”

That was good for me to hear. Here I was in this la-la land, thinking I could get over this and that it would go away. I got a pit in my stomach for the first time, but I wasn’t upset. I was grateful that he put it on the line like that for me. I’m a practical person and don’t want to read between the lines, so you don’t have to talk to me with a lot of fluff. Just tell me what’s happening.

I think I cried too because I was making everybody so sad. I think it’s somewhat cultural. My family is Japanese, so we want to know what the next step is with the realization that there is a circle of life and everything proceeds from one step to the next. I had this more practical approach to my stage 4 lung cancer diagnosis.

I was stunned and couldn’t believe what he said. I was such a low-risk person for lung cancer and had always been such a healthy person.

Luna, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient

Liver Biopsy

The next step was to do a biopsy. In 2012 and early 2013, they had just started testing for tumor markers. At the time, there were only two. Now, there are many more. However, two gene mutations were treatable with oral chemotherapy: EGFR and ALK.

We did a liver biopsy. I was hoping I would be positive for one of the mutations because the thought of having to take a pill a couple of times a day for my stage 4 lung cancer was appealing to me. However, I tested negative for EGFR and ALK. That was in mid-December to the end of December, about two or three weeks later. We had done all this testing, but we hadn’t done anything to fight the cancer.

My Treatments and Further Testing

Chemotherapy

I was getting anxious that my cancer was continuing to progress and I wanted to get something going. When we got the negative biomarker test results, I started traditional chemotherapy, a three-medication regimen. 

My insurance hadn’t approved one of the medicines by the time I got to the chemo room. I would have to put it on my credit card. The cost stunned me — $7,800 for one dose. But if my insurance approved it and the practice received payment, I would be reimbursed.

I said, “Why don’t I just wait? I’ll come back and get that third dose when our insurance approves it.” My husband said, “No, no, no, we’re going to put it on the credit card.” But I said no. If worse came to worst, I didn’t want to leave any debt. Eventually, we put it on our card and my insurance ended up reimbursing us.

I had two rounds of that chemotherapy regimen and experienced all the classic side effects. Then when we did follow-up imaging, the doctors found that my stage 4 lung cancer had progressed, so the regimen wasn’t helping me at all. That’s when my doctor suggested that I get tested for this newly described gene mutation: ROS1.

I had no risk factors. Back then, I didn’t know that people who never smoked could still get lung cancer. I didn’t know enough about cancer itself, even about the stages of cancer.

Luna, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient
ROS1 Testing

ROS1 was new at the time and back then, they thought that it accounted for about 1% of people with adenocarcinoma of the lung. I thought, okay, that means a 99% chance that I won’t have this.

When I tried to get the pre-authorization from my insurance, they declined my request because I had already undergone gene testing for ALK and EGFR. It was going to cost thousands for us out of pocket. Again, my concern was not to leave debt in case things got bad. My husband and oncologist talked me into it. They said, “If you do have it, there’s an oral chemotherapy for it.”

The good news is that I was able to get this biopsy and turned out positive for ROS1. 

Luna O.

In the last several years, every oncologist worth his or her weight in gold has been doing biomarker testing.

Luna, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient
Targeted Therapy and Successful Treatment

We wrangled with our insurance company and eventually got them to agree to cover my new medication, a targeted chemotherapy medicine. I’ve been on it for almost 12 years now and it’s controlling my stage 4 lung cancer. I ended up responding well to the medication and am among a handful of people who are getting long-duration on this oral chemotherapy.

There’s a bit of a backstory to it. Initially, the lab report came back saying that I was ROS1-positive. That was when we started scrambling. My doctor split the sample and sent it to another laboratory and the people there got back to us and said I was not ROS1-positive after all.

My oncologist called the director of the laboratory that conducted the test. They ran the test again and published a report saying that I was positive after all and that there had been a lab error. Once I got that reassurance from two separate labs that I had this mutation, I felt very confident.

The good news for me was that once I started taking this oral chemotherapy, I had tumor shrinkage. All my other biomarker tests went down within normal limits within a few weeks. 

Currently, there are some side effects that I must manage, but I’m alive and my stage 4 lung cancer has been stable for going on 12 years. I’ve been lucky. I’ve had a bad disease that I’ve managed with good medicine and a lot of luck.

In the last several years, every oncologist worth his or her weight in gold has been doing biomarker testing. When I was first diagnosed, some oncologists were hesitant about it because they were waiting to see if it panned out. I get that because there were a lot of testing things that didn’t pan out in cancer, but this one was real.

At that time, when I was talking to fellow patients, I would urge them to get a young oncologist, someone who had training in their fellowship with genetics. Now, I don’t feel the need to say that because almost all oncologists will test for it.

There are a lot of people who have asked me, ‘Do you ever wonder: why you?’ I flip that a little bit and say, ‘Why not me?’

Luna, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient

Hope is a Part of My Vocabulary

Throughout my experience, I kept repeating this mantra: “I need a little more time.”

I felt that way because my kids were just being launched. They were in their early 20s and I felt like they were adults already, but I needed to let them know a few more things before I could check out and know that they were going to be okay. I did whatever I could to get a little more time with them. 

Hope was wrapped up in all of that, but I also became very type A about my medications, vitamins, and exercise. I worked toward that mind, body, spirit triad, and its balance. That need for balance was my hope for my future.

It’s Crucial to Have a Positive Attitude

My recommendation for those facing stage 4 lung cancer and other cancer patients is to have a positive attitude.

When I started living longer than my “expiration date,” I wanted to be the healthiest-looking sick person I know. I planned to eat right, get enough sleep, and exercise every day. What happened to me when I got this new attitude was that I almost transformed. I felt much more positive about life, that I was not going to die of cancer, and that maybe I should get mammograms and restart my statin because I could die of something else. 

So much of it is an attitude of gratefulness. I feel gratitude every single day and that feeling keeps me going for tomorrow. It is a positive way of looking toward the future.

The only risk factor I have for lung cancer is that I have lungs.

Luna, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient

My Identity Has Shifted Due to My Stage 4 Lung Cancer Experience

When I’m by myself, other than making sure I take my medications at the right time of the day, I don’t think about being a cancer patient. There are a lot of organizational things I must do, like scheduling CT scans and MRIs and taking care of my insurance. Those tasks eat up a fair amount of my week. 

But do I identify as a cancer patient? I guess I do because when someone tells me they have cancer, especially if it is lung cancer, it automatically establishes a connection. I want to get to know them and their story as well. I guess when I think about it, I do identify as a cancer patient, specifically a lung cancer patient.

Moreover, when someone tells me that they are a ROS1 lung cancer patient, they get a hug. I joined a Facebook group called The ROS1ders. We are a small group because only 1% to 2% of individuals with lung cancer have a ROS1 mutation. In August, about 50 of us met in Colorado. We shared stories and contact information so that we could be in touch with each other.

Lung cancer can happen to anybody. 

Luna, Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient

There are a lot of people who have asked me, “Do you ever wonder: why you?” I flip that a little bit and say, “Why not me?” I feel that I’m human and vulnerable to disease, a very practical person, and a realist in terms of everybody eventually dying of something, so I never took it personally. 

It’s better for me because I think there’s so much stigma surrounding smokers. Even if I were a smoker, I still wouldn’t deserve to have lung cancer. Some of my nurses have asked me, “Do you smoke?” My response is, “No, why do you ask?”

I try to educate them that roughly 40% of us have never smoked and the only risk factor I have for having lung cancer is that I have lungs. I don’t know why I have it. There’s an uptick in Asian women who have lung cancer. Maybe it has something to do with our pollution and that kind of thing, but there’s no single thing that I can put my finger on, so why not me?

What I Want People to Know About Lung Cancer

Lung cancer can happen to anybody. 

I’m very supportive of screening programs. The current screening criteria are very narrow. You must have smoked for many years and be over 50. But if you’re concerned, if you have a family history, or if you qualify for screening, have testing done because lung cancer is a very treatable condition in its early stages.

Don’t just brush off any symptoms you might have. Seek medical care, take things in stride, and be brave and strong.


Thank you for sharing your story, Luna!

Inspired by Luna's story?

Share your story, too!


Luna O.

Luna O., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ROS1+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptom: None involving the lungs; severe abdominal pain

Treatments: Chemotherapy, targeted therapy

Donnita B., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, Stage 1A



Symptom: None

Treatment: Surgery
Calvin M. feature profile

Calvin M., Lung Cancer, Stage 1



Symptoms: Frequent illness (monthly cycles of sickness), breathing difficulties

Treatment: Surgery (pneumonectomy)

Jill F., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer with EGFR Exon 19 Deletion, Stage 1A



Symptom: Nodule found during periodic scan

Treatments: Surgery, targeted therapy, radiation

Additional Cancer Stories

Jennifer M. EGFR-positive lung cancer

Jennifer M., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, EGFR+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: None per se; discovered during physical checkup for what seemed to be a sinus infection

Treatments: Radiation therapy (stereotactic body radiation therapy or SBRT), targeted therapy
...
Laura R. ALK+ lung cancer

Laura R., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, ALK+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Persistent cough, fatigue, bone pain

Treatments: Targeted therapies (tyrosine kinase inhibitors or TKIs, including through a clinical trial)
...
Ashley C. stage 4 HER2+ lung cancer

Ashley C., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, HER2+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Fatigue, breathlessness, persistent back pain, multiple rounds of bronchitis

Treatments: Chemotherapy, targeted therapy
...
Loryn F. stage 4 HER2 lung cancer

Loryn F., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, HER2+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Extreme fatigue, persistent back pain, chest pain, joint pain in the feet, hips, legs, shoulders, and elbows

Treatments: Chemotherapy, radiation therapy (foot and elbow to help with mobility), antibody-drug conjugate
...
Clara C. metastatic lung cancer

Clara C., Lung Cancer, MSH6, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Pelvic pain, joint and bone pain, breast lump, extreme lightheadedness and dizziness, vomiting, fainting spells, swollen lymph node in the neck, neuropathy, headaches, unexplained weight loss, severe anemia
Treatments: Radiation therapy to the brain, chemotherapy, immunotherapy
...
Wyatt D. stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer with KRAS G12D mutation

Wyatt D., Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, KRAS+, Stage 4 (Metastatic)



Symptoms: Intense migraines, vision loss, muscle cramping in the hands, fainting
Treatments: Chemotherapy, immunotherapy
...

Categories
Lung Cancer Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient Stories Targeted Therapy The White Ribbon Project Treatments

Ashley’s Stage 4 ROS1+ Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Story

Ashley’s Stage 4 ROS1+ Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Story

Interviewed by: Taylor Scheib
Edited by: Chris Sanchez

Ashley, a mother of 2 young children, shares her journey with stage 4 lung cancer. Initially experiencing a persistent cough post-COVID, Ashley also began to experience shortness of breath and sharp pains that led her to seek help at a hospital. While the first hospital misdiagnosed her ailment as pneumonia, a second hospital found a life-threatening pulmonary embolism. Further tests confirmed stage 4 adenocarcinoma (non-small cell lung cancer). Ashley and her husband, Jason, deeply felt the impact of her diagnosis, particularly given past family losses to cancer.

Determined to seek comprehensive care, Ashley pursued a second opinion from MD Anderson. There, she learned about her ROS1 biomarker, which allowed her to undergo targeted therapy. This approach has been successful, putting her in remission.

Ashley sought refuge in her faith and combines traditional treatment with holistic methods, emphasizing the importance of integrating both to support her immune system. She has taken proactive steps to improve her well-being, including leaving her full-time job to focus on her health and spend more time with her family.

Ashley underscores the significance of self-advocacy in her treatment, highlighting instances where she challenged medical advice and conducted her own research. Through therapy and a positive mindset, she combats the mental health challenges associated with her illness. Ashley advises others to maintain hope, advocate for themselves, and support their emotional and physical health integratively. Her story emphasizes the importance of seeking answers and living fully despite her prognosis, as she cherishes her time with loved ones and continues making memories.


  • Name: 
    • Ashley S.
  • Diagnosis:
    • Lung Cancer
  • Staging:
    • Stage 4
  • Symptoms:
    • Cough that lasted for months
    • Sharp pain in right abdomen and shoulder area
  • Treatment:
    • Targeted therapy

We would like to thank The White Ribbon Project for its partnership.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.


Johnson and Johnson J&J logo

Thank you to Johnson & Johnson for supporting our patient education program. The Patient Story retains full editorial control over all content.



I’m such a data-driven, logical, realistic person.

But cancer has taught me that I have to live in the space where optimism and hope are.

Introduction

Hi, I’m Ashley. I was diagnosed at 35 years old with stage 4 lung cancer, adenocarcinoma, non-small cell with the genetic mutation of ROS1.

I am a mom of 2, a little boy and girl who were 5 and 2 respectively when I fell ill. I love being outside, going on nature trails and hiking. 

Also, we have a pool in our backyard and swimming laps for exercise is definitely a hobby and something I was doing a lot leading up to my diagnosis.

I was also working out with a personal trainer and lifting weights, all up until the day my initial symptoms started.

Pre-diagnosis

Initial symptoms

Before all this began, I struggled with a persistent cough that lasted for maybe 8 or 9 months.

I’d had COVID in January, and by September I was still coughing. On a daily basis, it would start out mild, but would worsen as the day progressed, and then I would be hacking by bedtime. But I wouldn’t allow it to interrupt my day; I would still be going 100mph as a mom. 

I saw a doctor in May, and he chalked it up to allergies. I just kept getting my daily stuff done because it wasn’t so disruptive anyway.

Later on in the year, my husband Jason and I were working out with a personal trainer, and I was weightlifting, deadlifting heavy weights. We started HIIT workouts, high intensity interval training.

One morning, we were swimming laps in our backyard pool to the point that we were trying to huff and puff. And I noticed that I really couldn’t be underwater for a very long time. 

I went on about my day and began work by 2:00 p.m. that day. I started having a sharp pain in my right abdominal area, the rib cage area. I powered through and ignored it.

That evening we were hosting a small group, so we had roughly like 20 or so people over, and were in the middle of a meal when I started having another bout of sharp pain in my right abdomen again and my right shoulder area too.

I thought, man, was it something I ate? Could it be gallstones? It’s unbearable, just a lot of pain. But I decided I would get to it after everybody left. The group laid hands on me and prayed over me, and we went about our night after they went home.

The next day, the pain got even more intense. I couldn’t walk from my bed to the bathroom without hunching over in agony. So we decided it was time to head to the ER. 

We went in, and they did a workup. And they found that I had a lung full of fluid. They told me I had pneumonia and sent me home with literally 12 prescriptions, like muscle relaxer, pain relievers and inhaler and everything you could think of for pneumonia. 

That weekend, I spent in my room away from my kids because I didn’t want them to catch anything from me. And that evening, my lips started to turn blue. And at this point I was having trouble breathing, but at no point did I think that it had anything to do with my lungs — I just thought that the pain was so intense that it was affecting my breathing.

First hospital admission

Jason rushed me to a hospital where I got admitted this time. They took my blood oxygen level using a pulse oximeter and the reading was 70 or so, which was unbelievably low.

I had them retest me 3 times, with the same result each time. They rushed to provide me with supplemental oxygen, and I ended up staying at that hospital for 4 days.

At that hospital they conducted a workup and scans, including a CT scan with contrast. And that’s when the 6-letter word entered the conversation.

They said they had seen lesions on my spine, and said that they could be either calcium deposits or cancer. And since I wasn’t anywhere near 60 years old, calcium deposits were unlikely. 

They did 2 biopsies — the first one was around the sternum and completely missed the area. I could feel it, feel the drill, feel everything. They were nervous about proceeding because they could hit my heart if I moved. 

So the next day they drained the fluid from my right lung and conducted a second biopsy, for which they completely put me under. It was in a whole different location this time. And then they started working on getting my oxygen back.

So it was a bit of a jarring hospitalization for me. I was thankful to have been supported by my family and my church during my stay.

After 4 days, I was ready to be discharged me and to be sent home with oxygen. But they spoke with me and said that since cancer has entered the conversation, they recommended that I transfer to a second hospital, in Dallas.

You have to lead your treatment process in your journey.

You can feel like you’re just a number, given the number of patients doctors have to see.

But of course you’re more than just a number. 

Second hospital admission

The second hospital was 45 minutes away by car, and my husband took me there right after I was discharged. We got in pretty quickly and told them what the first hospital had said — that we needed to have a PET scan double-time. 

Lo and behold, this second hospital discovered that I had a really large pulmonary embolism, caused by a huge blood clot in my lung, which the first hospital had missed completely.

So only by the grace of God did I manage to survive. I’ll never forget the expression on the faces of the doctors. 

They immediately put me on a blood thinner, and I had some great specialized care courtesy of amazing nurses and specialists like physical therapists. But cancer continued to be the main topic of conversation at this hospital.

I had to undergo scans that required me to be wrapped up like a mummy. I was terrified and claustrophobic, but I just had to go in that machine. I just had to talk to the Lord and try to be courageous, and also focused on scripture and thought about my kids.

I ended up spending 8 days in that Dallas hospital.

Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Diagnosis

While I was in Dallas, the results had come back from the tests the first hospital had run.

They were positive for adenocarcinoma.

Reaction to the diagnosis

Initially, during those 12 really long, jarring, shocking days before my diagnosis, we just kept holding on to the hope that I didn’t have cancer. We kept praying and hoping that they really were just calcium deposits or just something else, something benign. But all the signs were always pointing towards cancer. 

And so the moment that the doctor came in and confirmed it was cancer, I completely lost it. I bawled my eyes out and shook uncontrollably. It felt so, so unbelievable. And what’s worse, it wasn’t just cancer, it was lung cancer. 

Because the doctor had told me that since I was a nonsmoker, if I did have cancer, it would probably be breast cancer. So I was so taken aback that it was cancer. It was lung cancer. It was stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer. It was inoperable. It was terminal. And he told me that some people in my situation would live, say, 5 to 10 years. 

So a tremendous amount of fear rushed over me, and I was shaken. But I clung to my faith and knew that the ultimate physician is the one who has the final say.

As for my husband, he’s a bit of an introvert, and processes things very differently from me. I think he did a lot of his grieving outside the room. He wanted to remain strong and steady and full of faith and constant. He’s already lost his dad and brother — the latter to cancer, just in 2020, and in the low 40s, so I think there’s some PTSD there. And I think he kind of shut down. 

So quite apart from me, he sat in his chair and didn’t express too much emotion. And that’s been in character with how he’s been grieving, like when the kids are asleep, we’ll lie down and sometimes cry together. 

You may have big decisions to make really fast, and to do that — and to advocate for yourself — you need to be prepared.

Second opinion

I decided to get a second opinion with MD Anderson, based on their reputation. 

While I still do have an open file at the Dallas hospital and can get treatment from them if I need to, the quarterback of my care team, the decision maker, would be MD Anderson. 

MD Anderson had a lot to teach me. For instance, I had already heard that a particular drug I was about to take, if I were to respond well to that treatment, would work for a couple of years. 

But then I learned from talking to MD Anderson that the cancer was likely to come back, that I might grow resistant to the drug in a couple of years. I didn’t know that coming into that appointment.

ROS1 and biomarker testing

I also have the ROS1 biomarker.

The topic of me possibly having a biomarker was brought up at my first appointment. Ever since then, I was really hoping that I had a genetic mutation, because I don’t want to do traditional chemotherapy at all.

So I was very happy to learn that I do have the ROS1 biomarker. And my having it has informed my treatment.

So I’ve been undergoing a targeted therapy. I’m taking a TKI drug and it’s been working really well. 

Treatment, remission, and further steps

Targeted therapy for non-small cell lung cancer

I’m now in remission thanks to my first-line treatment.

Every single night, I take my TKI drug. I’ll be on it for the rest of my life. 

I can’t actually handle a full dose — I didn’t even start out on the full dose, I began with three-fourths of a dose — and now I’m just taking half a dose every time.

My medicine is heavy on my kidneys and my liver, which makes it imperative that I get them to be in tiptop health.

Holistic approach

My total approach, though, is actually more integrative and holistic. I augment the solution MD Anderson has given me with solutions from integrative doctors.

I had actually quit my job so I could spend more time with my family, my kids. But another big reason I did that was also to free myself up to do things that are going to help my immune system. A lot of holistic care and integrative treatment.

I don’t think it’s all Western or all traditional medicine that helps. I believe it’s a blend of both, like you take the best of both worlds. And so I do seek out the opinions and inputs of both oncologists and experts in integrative medicine.

When your mortality is on the table and you see so many people across the board struggling with and passing away from cancers like this [ non-small cell lung cancer ], it’s like you want to throw a hundred things at the disease and not just 1. If I were to depend on MD Anderson alone, that would just be like placing all my eggs in only 1 basket. And so I would rather have multiple experts weighing in.

I think the integrative world does great at looking into root causes. They say that cancer isn’t just this tumor that appears 1 day and out of nowhere; it’s something that has been building in one’s body for maybe a decade, for example. And it’s like a perfect storm, like glucose in the body, the diet, the microbiome, the immune system, and so on.

And so I do things like taking IVs of sodium bicarbonate — which is alkaline and helps make my body alkaline too, so that cancer cannot survive in it. I think my whole mentality as far as integrative medicine goes is that I create an environment within me that cancer is unable to return to.

I went to an integrative cancer center in California for 6 weeks through Thanksgiving and Christmas last year. I entered with my oxygen tank in tow. I left without it.

Self-advocacy

Sometimes, these approaches I go for and experts I consult clash and don’t agree with each other, or with me. And, moreover, sometimes they miss things. And this is where I have to be my own advocate and discern and ask God which direction I should go.

I’ve already mentioned earlier that the first hospital I went to completely missed my pulmonary embolism, and that’s no less than life-threatening. I also have a run-in with a particular doctor to share.

So I did a blood panel and checked out my B12 levels, which were way off the charts at over 2,000. The doctor just shrugged it off, saying that it was water-soluble and thus not worth looking into. He said, it’s probably from your diet. So I paused drinking this plant-based protein shake I’d been taking, and it had no effect on the super high B12 levels.

So I self-advocate. For every doctor’s appointment I go to, I craft bullet points and an agenda to help guide our discussion. And sometimes I’ll send this agenda ahead of time and tell the doctor, hi, I’d like us to address these concerns and I want you to know ahead of time what we’ll be discussing. 

You have to lead your treatment process in your journey. You can feel like you’re just a number, given the number of patients doctors have to see. But of course you’re more than just a number. 

Do your research, learn from other people. At the start I was like, it’s a full time job to learn everything. But that’s how I know what kind of questions to ask. You may have big decisions to make really fast, and to do that — and to advocate for yourself — you need to be prepared.

So I’m living life.

I’m doing all the things and making all the memories.

Improving mental health

I’ve also found that there are steps one can and should take to improve one’s mental health.

After my non-small cell lung cancer diagnosis, I literally was walking in depression. I was literally preparing to die. For the first year or so, I experienced so many days and nights where I thought about dying a lot. I would just see my husband and our 2 kids continuing life. My mind would even go to events like my daughter’s future wedding taking place without me, or my funeral with my family grieving. 

But I couldn’t succumb to that. 

Some people in cancer groups online, for example, are preparing to die and doing things like writing their kids books so that they’ll read them in the future and get to know or remember their parents.

Sure, I’d want to write a book of my own down the line. But I’d like to do it from the standpoint of being NED.

And so I think that a lot of therapy has been necessary.

Living life

So I’m living life. I’m doing all the things and making all the memories.

I’m literally not saying no to anything, just trying to do all the fun things I can with my husband and kids. 

We’re having a whole lot of fun.

Advice for others

Place your trust and have hope

The first piece of advice I would like to offer is definitely to have hope. And for me, this is based in faith.

My faith is everything to me. My experience has taught me that placing my trust in God and something bigger than myself is crucial.

I’m such a data-driven, logical, realistic person. But cancer has taught me that I have to live in the space where optimism and hope are.

Think positively and act like you’re healed

Positive thinking is massive. It may seem silly to some, but from all the research I’ve done, I’ve found that there’s so much truth to it.

It’s like our brain is telling our body what to do.

So act like a healed person. Keep living your life like you’re healed.

Advocate for yourself

I’ve said this already earlier — it’s so important to advocate for yourself, and to do so you must prepare properly.

Don’t just trust one doctor. Go get a second opinion, seek the help and inputs of other experts. Get as many eyes on the glass as you can. Especially if you have other people like kids who love you and depend on you.

And if their opinions and advice clash, seek guidance to resolve it. But build your own knowledge base too.

Support yourself both physically and emotionally

I think it’s also crucial to support yourself integratively, holistically, as you’re going through this. And emotional work is extremely important.

I’ve learned in the integrative space that emotional work matters just as much as physical work does. And not only dealing with the emotions you’re managing at present, but also with any emotional backstory, like childhood traumas, that might have contributed to your situation at present.

I’ve heard from more than one integrative provider that deals with cancer patients and has been doing so for decades. The ones who don’t survive are the ones who aren’t doing the emotional work.

Get to the root cause

If you experience a suspicious symptom just like I did with my cough, don’t shrug it off. Investigate it and get to the root cause.

I didn’t have allergies year-round — so why was I having a cough for 9 months?

I didn’t want to take time away from my work and family to do so, and besides, I thought, my cough was livable. It wasn’t really interrupting my daily life. But look at how things developed.

My cough was in itself a small thing, but it was persistent. It wasn’t allergies. It wasn’t long COVID. It wasn’t pneumonia. It was a sign that I had stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer.

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Special thanks again to Johnson & Johnson for supporting our patient education program. The Patient Story retains full editorial control over all content.


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Categories
Cáncer de Pulmón

Cáncer de Pulmón: ROS1 Positivo (ROS1+), Etapa 4 | Historia de Lisa

Historias de Cáncer de Pulmón
ROS1 Positivo (ROS1+), Etapa 4

Sepa que si está buscando en Google los pronósticos de supervivencia pronosticadas para el cáncer de pulmón en etapa IV es mejor no prestarle atención. La mayor parte de esa información está desactualizada.

Estos nuevos tratamientos, ya sea terapia dirigida, inmunoterapia o vacunas personalizadas, etc. están cambiando drásticamente las tasas de supervivencia. Entonces, tenga algo de esperanza y positividad. Yo soy una prueba viviente de que esas predicciones no siempre son verdaderas.

Lisa Goldman

Nombre: Lisa Goldman (45 años)

Diagnóstico:

  • Cáncer de pulmón ROS1 positivo
  • Etapa 4

Primeros Síntomas:

  • Tos persistente (meses)
  • Poco de sangrado al toser
  • Fiebre alta
  • Sudoral dormir

Diagnósticos Erróneos:

  • Gripe común
  • Bronquitis
  • Vías irritadas (para explicar el sangrado al toser)

Tratamiento:

  • Quimioterapia (4 ciclos)
  • Quimioterapia de Mantenimiento (4 ciclos)
  • Píldoras de Terapia Dirigida


Diagnóstico

¿Cómo fue que te diagnosticaron?

Resumen: Me diagnosticaron con un resfriado y bronquitis durante meses. Cuando por fin me dijeron que era cáncer tenía tres costillas rotas por toser tan fuerte, sudores nocturnos, fiebre, y estaba tosiendo un poco de sangre. Me habían realizado múltiples radiografías cuando debería haber recibido una tomografía computarizada de baja dosis. Eso habría mostrado el cáncer.

Rara vez me enfermo o voy al médico, pero había tenido un resfriado persistente y tos durante varias semanas, así que finalmente decidí ir al médico. Odio tomar medicamentos, incluso antibióticos, porque prefiero guardarlos para cuando realmente los necesito.

Me tomó mucho tiempo, probablemente un mes, hasta que fui a urgencias durante un fin de semana y mi amiga me dijo que era hora de ir a pedir antibióticos o algo.

Así que eso es lo que hice. Fui a urgencias que estaba abierta los fines de semana y me hicieron una radiografía rápida de mis pulmones. Me dieron antibióticos y jarabe de codeína para la tos.

Dijeron que la radiografía se veía totalmente limpia. Esto fue en octubre de 2013. En ese entonces estaba muy bien físicamente, enseñaba cinco clases de spinning a la semana y todo tipo de clases de ejercicio, comía de manera saludable y todo eso. Empecé a tomar los medicamentos y no mejoré, de hecho, empeoré un poco.

Luego, un par de semanas después, fui con mi doctora primaria a mediados de noviembre y le dije que la tos había empeorado. Ella escuchó mis pulmones y me hizo un examen rápido y dijo que creía que era una especie de bronquitis. Entonces me recetó un antibiótico diferente y un inhalador. Ese fue el primer inhalador que había tenido en mi vida.

Nunca había tenido asma ni alergias ni nada por el estilo. Ahora que lo pienso, debí haber preguntado acerca del tratamiento ya que en vez de indagar más me dieron un tratamiento para algo de lo que no tenía antecedentes. Sin embrago, eso fue lo que pasó.

Regresé a casa con mi inhalador y algunos otros medicamentos y seguí el tratamiento algunas semanas, pero no vi mejoría alguna. Regresé a principios de diciembre y fue otra vez la misma rutina: me subió el nivel a un inhalador más potente, agregó esteroides y aún así no funcionó.

Empecé a toser sangre a mediados de diciembre. No eran grandes cantidades, solo pequeñas gotas de vez en cuando. Pero aún así quería irme a revisar.

No era color rojo vivo, sino más como un tono oscuro entre naranja y café. Fue un poco, nada alarmante que me hiciera tener que ir corriendo a urgencias, pero sí llamó mi atención como si fuera una señal de que debía revisarme bien porque algo andaba mal.

Fui con mi doctora y me dijo que el sangrado era debido a que tenía las vías respiratorias inflamadas ya que tenía ya meses con una tos severa. Me dijo que no me preocupara y que me fuera a casa y disfrutara mi descanso.

En ese tiempo mis hijos estaban en sus vacaciones de invierno e íbamos a ir a visitar a mis padres a Palm Desert en el sur de California. Por último me dijo que si al volver, en enero, seguía teniendo molestias entonces me harían otros rayos-x para ver que todo estuviera bien.

Sin embargo, las cosas empezaron a empeorar con rapidez. Empecé a tener fiebre alta y mucho sudor en la noche, además de la tos con la que ya tenía varios meses.

Dicha tos era tan mala que tiempo después nos enteramos de que tenía tres costillas rotas por todo el esfuerzo. Mi madre me dijo que fuera por uno rayos-x de inmediato y así lo hice. Ahí en Palm Desert fui al hospital.

Ahora que ya sé más al respecto sé que basado en los resultados de esos rayos-x debieron ordenarme una tomografía computarizada de inmediato.

No lo hicieron. En vez me dijeron que, a pesar de que había unas cosas anormales en el resultado, ellos creían que era una neumonía. Me dieron medicamentos más fuertes y me dijeron que unas semanas después, al regresar a casa, me hiciera una tomografía.

Mark, un amigo de la familia que es doctor y que también estaba de visita en casa de mis padres durante ese período, me dijo que algo no cuadraba.

Él no es ni oncólogo, ni pulmonólogo, sino gastroenterólogo. Nunca mencionó el cáncer, solo me dijo que no tenía sentido que después de haber estado con un tratamiento tan fuerte por tanto tiempo no hubiera tenido mejoría alguna, al contrario.

Me dijo que dejara de buscar respuestas con médicos generales y que fuera directamente con un pulmonólogo.

Ya estábamos por regresar a casa, así que no tenía sentido buscar ayuda médica en Palm Desert. El día que volvimos fui a ver a un pulmonólogo.

Me veía perfectamente bien, pero al escuchar mis pulmones y hacerme una lectura de oxígeno que salió alrededor de 70 cuando lo normal es entre 90 y 100, me envió de inmediato al hospital a que me hiciera una tomografía.

Al terminar fui de nuevo con el pulmonólogo en el piso de arriba. Sacó los resultados y me mostró todo. Mis pulmones aparecían completamente blancos en la imagen lo cual es malo.

Sin embargo, él nunca mencionó la palabra cáncer. A mi tampoco me pasó por la mente ya que no me consideraba como la estereotípica paciente de cáncer de pulmón. Me dijo que tenía que hacerme una biopsia pero me lo dijo tranquilamente para que no me asustara.

Por suerte, mi amigo Mark iba a viajar al Área de la Bahía en esas fechas, así que le dije y estuvo presente. Justo al salir de la biopsia me diagnosticaron y Mark estuvo ahí conmigo y con mi esposo y pudo ayudarnos a facilitar la conversación con el médico.

El cirujano fue directo en cuanto al diagnóstico.

Espero que otra gente tenga mejores experiencias. Al despertar tenía a mi esposo a mi lado y a un amigo que es doctor: Mark.

Al pie de la cama estaba el cirujano que había hecho la biopsia a quien había conocido solo una vez en una cita pre-biopsia. Obviamente había estado ahí mientras me empujaban hacia el quirófano, pero nunca desarrollé una relación estrecha con él.

Sin embargo, ahí estaba al pie de mi cama a las 8pm un Viernes, cansado, queriéndose ir a casa. No lo culpo. Simplemente me dijo: “Parece ser un cáncer de pulmón, etapa 4. En un rato vendrá un oncólogo a verte. Buena suerte. Buenas noches.” Y así como así se fue.

¿Qué sentiste cuando te diagnosticaron?

Haber sido diagnosticada con algo que no había investigado antes y de lo que no sabía mucho fue abrumador. Estaba en shock.

Ni siquiera conocía a alguien que hubiera pasado por algo como esto y tampoco me sabía los términos médicos más básicos. Nunca antes en mi vida había sido anestesiada.

Creo que tenía miedo de ir a casa pero no entendía porque era inseguro. No entendía muchas cosas. Tener a Mark ahí fue una bendición. 

Al terminar la biopsia me mandaron a casa, pero Mark estuvo ahí discutiendo con ellos ya que sufro de taquicardia (pulso acelerado).

En ese entonces ni siquiera sabía lo que significaba taquicardia. Al fin de cuentas terminé quedándome en el hospital una semana ya que Mark los pudo convencer.

Aún pienso en lo que hubiera pasado si me hubieran mandado a casa en esas condiciones. Además, yo estaba conectada al oxígeno y me enviarían a casa sin él. Terminé necesitando oxígeno por aproximadamente dos meses.

Una vez que me enviaron a casa simplemente cargaba con mis tanques de oxígeno. Estoy verdaderamente agradecida de haber podido tener a Mark ahí presente.

¿Cómo fue estar con un tanque de oxígeno todo el tiempo?

El hospital se encargó de hacer todos los arreglos. Ellos tienen contrato con un proveedor que va a la casa y monta el compresor. Es una máquina parecida a un aire acondicionado pero portátil.

Tenía una manguera larga que me permitía moverme dentro de la casa, pero al ser muy ruidosa decidimos ubicarla en la sala para que estuviera alejada de los cuartos. Era como tener una correa.

Fue entonces que tuve una larga manguera por toda la casa, ya fuera en la sala, cama o comedor. Siempre estorbaba, la gente tropezaba con ella, se atoraba en las puertas…un dolor de cabeza.

No obstante, al menos no tienes que estar cambiando un tanque constantemente, sino que la máquina se encarga de comprimir el oxígeno de la casa para que lo puedas respirar.

Cuando quería salir de casa, lo cual no sucedía con frecuencia en ese tiempo debido al problema con el oxígeno, usaba un tanque portátil que empujaba.

Eventualmente conseguimos uno pequeño que estaba dentro de una mochila que podía llevar en mi espalda a todos lados.

Siendo honesta, todas esas cosas me ponían nerviosa, así que las primeras semanas prefería permanecer en casa.

Te sorprendiste porque jamás habías fumado.

Lo aprendí de la manera difícil. A pesar de que ya había escuchado el año anterior de un paciente más joven que fue diagnosticado con cáncer de pulmón, seguía pensando que era extraño. Para mí era uno de esos casos en un millón.

Sin embargo, una vez que me diagnosticaron y empecé a indagar más y a conocer a otros pacientes me di cuenta de que no era lo que creía. El cáncer de pulmón está aumentando en los que nunca han fumado, está aumentando en las personas más jóvenes y está aumentando en las mujeres.

El paciente típico ya no es aquel fumador que consumía dos cajetillas al día. Según las estadísticas que he visto, alrededor del 20% de los pacientes recién diagnosticados son fumadores activos. Eso deja al 80% que no lo son.

Una gran parte de ellos son ex fumadores; aproximadamente el 60%. Pero muchos de los ex fumadores dejaron de fumar hace décadas, por lo que no se consideran fumadores.

¿Quién sabe? Para algunas de esas personas su historial de tabaquismo tal vez tiene que ver con su diagnóstico de cáncer de pulmón. Sin embargo, para algunas de ellas tal vez no.

Nunca hemos examinado eso debido al estigma y las suposiciones de que el cáncer de pulmón siempre se debe al tabaquismo.

¿Cómo escogiste a cual hospital ir?

Lo que sucedió fue que al ir a hacerme la biopsia nadie me había advertido. El cáncer ni siquiera había sido discutido. Así que pensé que solo iba a someterme a un procedimiento ambulatorio y luego nos ocuparíamos de lo siguiente basado en los resultados obtenidos.

Cuando me desperté me ingresaron en el hospital inmediatamente y me dijeron que cáncer de pulmón de etapa IV y que tenía que comenzar el tratamiento de inmediato. Así que el día siguiente me hicieron varios estudios y después comencé la quimioterapia allí mismo en el hospital, 24 horas después.

No tuve tiempo de buscar médicos u hospitales y de elegir a dónde quería ir. Todavía no sé cómo sucedió. El oncólogo simplemente apareció y me dijo lo que tenía que hacer y que si no seguía el plan al pie de la letra no funcionaría.

No me dieron opciones. No fue hasta tiempo después que me di cuenta de que tuve suerte ya que el oncólogo hizo un muy buen trabajo.

¿Te cambiaste con un especialista en cáncer de pulmón?

Comencé a investigar y me di cuenta de que mi doctora era una oncóloga general. Pensé que tal vez sería bueno acudir a un oncólogo torácico que se especializara en cáncer de pulmón ya que descubrí que había salido positiva en el estudio para detectar una mutación genética llamada ROS1 positiva y quería estar con alguien que tuviera otros pacientes con el mismo diagnóstico.

Empecé a buscar en los hospitales de UCSF y Stanford. Pedí segundas opiniones y al final, después de unos meses, me moví a Stanford. Sin embargo, no me encantó.

¿Qué te hizo regresar al otro hospital más pequeño?

Creía que si iba a Stanford todo iría de maravilla. No es que los médicos no sean brillantes, es solo que me sentí más como un paciente más.

Creo que el énfasis en la investigación ahuyenta al cuidado del paciente y es por eso que me cambié a un hospital comunitario en el que las enfermeras sabían mi nombre. Tenía el número de teléfono de mi oncólogo y menú respondía si necesitaba algo.

No es que los médicos de Stanford no respondan, pero definitivamente no es el mismo tipo de acceso. Hay muchas capas que tiene que atravesar para llegar al médico y el médico no está en la clínica muy a menudo. A veces tan solo un día a la semana.

Al final regresé con un oncólogo general en un entorno comunitario pero habiendo establecido relaciones en los centros académicos para poder consultarlos antes de tomar decisiones importantes sobre mi tratamiento. Para los laboratorios del día a día o incluso las exploraciones de horarios regulares, fue mucho más cómodo para mí estar en ese ambiente.

¿Algún consejo sobre la relación paciente-doctor?

Tuve dificultades al tratar de entablar una buena relación con mi oncólogo y equipo médico debido a toda la presión. Muchas veces se les transmite un mensaje a los pacientes que dice que deben abogar por sí mismos, que deben presionar y que deben hacer investigación propia; y lo hago, pero también busco ser respetuosa.

Ellos son expertos. Yo no tengo un título médico. Además, aunque me da pena admitirlo, uno quiere caerle bien a la gente. Uno quiere que su médico se preocupe por usted y que sonría cuando ingresa a la sala.

No quiere que haga muecas y que diga ‘esta persona está constantemente discutiendo, presionando y cuestionando.’ Ha sido todo un proceso aprender a equilibrar eso.

Abogo por mí misma, pero también trato de mantener cierta deferencia y construir una relación. Así que mi consejo es encontrar la combinación correcta, buscar una segunda opinión y crear un equipo.

Está el doctor al que veo rutinariamente, pero si tengo preguntas es posible que haya otro doctor mucho más especializado que tenga respuestas que me puede ayudar aunque no sea mi doctor primario.

Busqué a ese tipo de personas y las metí a mi ‘equipo’ en el cual también tengo el contacto de otra gente que juega otros roles importantes. Incluso tengo un terapeuta que veo para todo lo emocional porque eso no lo hace un oncólogo.

Lo que más busco en un doctor es que sea alguien que me escuche y que acceda a trabajar con las otras personas que conformar mi equipo. Descubrí que un médico que quiere estar a cargo y no quiere que nadie más me proporcione información no me funciona.

Mi sugerencia para otros pacientes es buscar médicos que tengan experiencia pero que también estén dispuestos a escuchar a otros.

Tratamientos y Efectos Secundarios

¿Escogiste tu tratamiento?

No me dieron opciones. Supongo que tuve la opción de no firmar para acceder al procedimiento, pero fue todo. Básicamente el oncólogo vino y me dijo que era relativamente joven y que como estaba sana y en forma creía que podría tolerar una prescripción de quimioterapia agresiva que debíamos empezar cuanto antes.

Me recetó Cisplatin, Avastin y Alimta. El Cisplatin es tan tóxico que tienen que tratarlo con una gran cantidad de solución salina antes y después para lavar los riñones, por lo que en realidad se convierte en un proceso de 12 horas.

  • Ciclo de tratamiento:
    • Quimioterapia: Cisplatin + Bevacizumab (Avastin) + Pemetrexed (Alimta)
      • 4 ciclos
        • Ciclo = 3 semanas
        • Aproximadamente 12 horas en un día
    • Quimioterapia de mantenimiento: Bevacizumab (Avastin) + Pemetrexed (Alimta)
      • 4 ciclos
        • Ciclo = 3 semanas
        • Entre 6 y 8 horas en un día
    • Terapia dirigida: Crizotinib (Xaltori)
¿Por cuántos ciclos de quimioterapia pasaste?

Pasé por cuatro ciclos de quimioterapia con Cisplatin, Bevacizumab (Avastin) y Pemetrexed (Alimta). Cada ciclo duró tres semanas. La infusión era el primer día y tomaba aproximadamente 12 horas. La primera se administraba ahí mismo en el hospital.

Normalmente toleraba la primera sin problemas. Cómo saben que el Cisplatin es difícil de tolerar, te dan toda clase de cosas antes y después de la infusión.

No solo me dieron esteroides, también me dieron Zofran y otra droga llamada Emend que ayudaba a prevenir las náuseas. Tomaba todo tipo de cosas para poder facilitar el proceso. 

Para la quimioterapia de mantenimiento hicieron lo mismo pero sin el Cisplatin. Seguían siendo cuatro ciclos de tres semanas cada uno, pero el primer día la infusión era mucho más corta; entre seis y siete horas. En total, estuve en quimioterapia por ocho meses.

¿Cuales fueron los efectos secundarios de la quimioterapia?

La náusea es la que más recuerdo. Lo peor son los efectos secundarios de los medicamentos que atacan los efectos secundarios de la quimioterapia. Los esteroides son brutales, interrumpen tu sueño y te afectan emocionalmente.

No lo llamaría necesariamente un efecto secundario de la quimioterapia, sino el efecto secundario del cambio repentino en la vida. Sin embargo, creo que es una parte muy importante del tratamiento.

Además de la receta médica, me gustaría que les dieran a todos una receta para recibir cuidados paliativos y para visitar al trabajador social, al terapeuta o algún tipo de apoyo emocional. Creo que ahí yace la clave para hacerle frente a esto y es directamente proporcional a qué tan bien uno tolera los tratamientos y la calidad de vida.

Hablando más específicamente, el primer ciclo salió bastante bien; no tuve esa náusea. El segundo también, pero estas cosas se acumulan. Ya para el cuarto lo estaba sintiendo. Recuerdo que apenas pude salir del laboratorio de infusión. Solo hice cuatro rondas con el Cisplatin. Cada tres semanas iba para el siguiente ciclo.

Después pasamos a lo que llaman “quimioterapia de mantenimiento” la cual no tiene Cisplatin. Sin embargo, continué recibiendo Avastin y Alimta lo cual era mucho más tolerable pero aún tenía efectos secundarios. Seguía tomando medicamentos contra las náuseas, esteroides y desarrollé presión alta.

Hay que acomodarse al calendario: La primera semana no debía agendar nada. Solo planeaba estar en casa y pegada al Netflix. Entonces empiezas a mejor y para la tercer semana ya te sientes mejor. Esa era la semana buena y tenía que acomodar todo en esa tercer semana. Esto se repetía cada tres semanas.

Por favor califica los efectos secundarios que tuviste debido a la quimioterapia.

Todos tienen experiencias diferentes. Lisa calificó los efectos secundarios de la quimioterapia con un 8 de 10, lo que significa que ella tuvo una experiencia un poco más difícil.

En cuanto a su experiencia con la quimioterapia de mantenimiento, Lisa nos dio un 6 de 10, lo que nos indica que tuvo una mejor experiencia que con la quimioterapia primaria en la cual si tuvo que recibir infusiones de Cisplatin.

¿Cómo respondiste a la quimioterapia?

Dependiendo de los síntomas y de cómo me sintiera era como me agendaban las citas para los escaneos. Tuve buena respuesta al Cisplatin, así que rápidamente empezamos a ver cambios positivos en los exámenes.

Nunca tuvimos resultados perfectos, pero los resultados fueron increíbles al punto que después de dos ciclos de quimioterapia pude estar sin tanque de oxígeno. Fue algo estupendo. Por lo general siempre era la persona más joven en el laboratorio de infusión, pero también era la que tenía peor aspecto porque tenía el tanque de oxígeno y la manguera en la nariz.

Cuando iba al baño tenía que cargar con el poste de la infusión, el tanque y todos los cables que siempre se enredaban. La quimioterapia fue muy efectiva, pero no es tolerable a largo plazo. Después empecé la quimioterapia de mantenimiento y los síntomas empezaron a reaparecer.

La tos volvió y las exploraciones comenzaron a mostrar que el cáncer regresaba. Después de ocho meses claramente ya no estaba funcionando.

Afortunadamente, descubrí antes que mi cáncer mostró una mutación ROS1 positivo. Sabíamos que había un medicamento de terapia dirigida que podía tomar para eso, así que cambié a ese tratamiento.

¿Se te cayó el cabello?

Me dijeron que se caería. Por lo general el Cisplatin hace que los pacientes pierdan su cabello. Me lo corté la primera vez y fue entonces que empecé a buscar pelucas. ¡Son bastante caras!

Me arrepentí de comprarlas porque mi cabello adelgazó pero nunca se cayó por completo. Todavía están en mi armario sin usar.

Probablemente me hubiera enfocado más en ello si se me hubiera caído por completo, pero como no sucedió decidí enfocarme más en otros detalles mucho más importante y en cómo le diría a mis hijos. El diagnóstico indicaba que el tratamiento duraría aproximadamente nueve meses, así que el cabello en verdad no era algo importante.

¿Cómo te enteraste de la terapia dirigida?

Me hicieron la biopsia en el Hospital El Camino, el hospital local aquí en Mountain View. El procedimiento se realizó el 10 de enero y más tarde descubrí que a partir del 1 de enero de ese año fue cuando comenzaron a probar todas las biopsias de cáncer de pulmón que se realizaron a través del laboratorio de patología para revisar la mutación ROS1.

Entonces, sin que yo tuviera que pedir las pruebas genéticas, ellos ya habían instituido un proceso en el que lo hacían automáticamente unos días antes de mi biopsia.

Pasaron algunas semanas para que los resultados llegaran, así que no lo descubrí hasta después de comenzar la quimioterapia. Como ya habíamos iniciado el tratamiento decidimos continuarlo hasta que dejara de hacer efecto.

Desde muy temprano supe que tenía ROS1+ y que había una terapia dirigida. El problema era que la terapia dirigida no había sido aprobada por la Administración de Drogas y Alimentos (FDA en Inglés), por lo que el oncólogo general del hospital con quien había estado trabajando nunca había usado ese tratamiento en mi tipo de cáncer porque para eso tenía que ser aprobado primero.

Entonces, al investigar por mi cuenta, descubrí que los resultados habían sido tan buenos que la FDA había acelerado el proceso ya que la compañía ya estaba en las últimas fases del proceso de aprobación.

Inclusive el seguro ya lo estaba aprobando para algunos pacientes. Así que le pedí que me lo recetara y lo sometiera a la aprobación del seguro para que lo tuviéramos disponible. Mi doctora se mostró dudosa así que tuve que abogar por mí misma.

¿Tuviste que abogar por ti misma?

Sí porque la doctora me quiso tranquilizar diciendo que si la primer quimioterapia no funcionaba entonces podíamos probar otros tipos. Yo le dije que no quería hacer eso y que había escuchado cosas muy buenas sobre la terapia dirigida, así que prefería tratar eso.

En ese momento, ¿cómo te sentías?

Mi médico me dijo que tenía cáncer de pulmón etapa IV, pero pero nunca me dio un tiempo restante de vida. Evité buscar cosas en Google al respecto. Finalmente, después de un tiempo, agarré confianza y lo hice, pero no es algo bueno. No obstante, los datos que uno encuentra están desactualizados ya que las terapias dirigidas están cambiando las tazas de supervivencia dramáticamente.

Soy el tipo de persona que necesita saber más. Algunos pacientes prefieren no saber nada y tener a alguien cercano encargándose de todo eso y que solo les diga lo que necesitan saber, pero yo necesitaba saberlo directamente.

Hice mucha investigación por mi cuenta. A veces es difícil de leer, pero creo que entre más esté uno informado mejor.

¿Tuviste efectos secundarios por la terapia?

Cuando me cambié a este tratamiento fue más difícil incluso que la quimioterapia porque me causaba más náuseas. Recuerdo que durante meses me tendía en el suelo de mi cuarto para tratar de combatir los mareos.

No tuve semanas malas. Simplemente mi cuerpo se ajustó después de un tiempo. Fue constante; sin altibajos. Me siento agradecida porque llevo ya casi cuatro años tomando el medicamento. Hay algunas cosas crónicas. Tengo un edema y náuseas constantes.

Simplemente es algo de la vida diaria a lo que debo acostumbrarme. En este caso hay ciertas cosas con las que vivo y que nunca se van, mientras que con la quimioterapia hay días buenos y días malos.

¿Cuánto tiempo llevas con el tratamiento de píldoras?

He sido muy, pero muy afortunada. Empecé con la terapia dirigida llamada Xalkori en septiembre de 2014. Me dijeron que los el medicamento haría efecto entre 12 y los 18 meses, pero ya estoy por llegar a mi cuarto año tomándolo.

Claramente soy una excepción, lo cual es genial, pero también es estresante porque sé que estoy ganando la lotería de momento pero puede ser que pronto se termine.

No conozco a mucha gente. Cuanto más avanzo, menos gente conozco que ha durado más que yo. Conozco a mucha gente que está tomando este medicamento, pero ya no digo: ‘Quiero ser como esa personas que lleva cuatro o cinco años con este medicamento.’

Ahora soy yo a quien todos están mirando. Esa es mi lucha particular ahora mismo; ¿cómo me enfrento a eso ahora? Me siento bien por el momento y por suerte no tengo síntomas que me estén causando gran preocupación. Este ha sido el período más largo sin escaneos que he tenido desde mi diagnóstico.

Mientras que anteriormente me hacían escaneos cada dos o tres meses, el año pasado cambiamos a cada cuatro meses por un par de ciclos. ¡Esta es la primera vez que llevo seis meses sin escaneo así que estoy muy feliz!

Vida Fuera del Tratamiento

¿Cómo le hablaste a tus hijos acerca del cáncer?

Llegué a casa con oxígeno y enferma y mi madre básicamente se mudó durante meses. Fue un cambio radical. No había esconderse de los niños, para bien o para mal.

No necesariamente creo que haya sido peor, porque es un lugar extraño en el que estoy ahora donde parezco normal, pero sé que todavía estoy enfrentando una situación muy aterradora. Eso es algo extraño para mí, para no ver a los niños pequeños.

En cierto modo, tener esto tangible: está esta cosa, es real y puedes verlo, creo que ayuda a procesar. Ayuda a todos a enfrentarlo y lidiar con eso.

He tenido amigos que fueron directamente a la terapia dirigida y es como, oh mamá estaba enferma y ahora está mejor y cuando empeoraron, fue como otro trauma.

Así que mi familia no tuvo esa experiencia. Tuvimos que enfrentarlo de frente. Definitivamente me puse en contacto con terapeutas y trabajadores sociales para ayudarnos a descubrir cómo ayudar a los niños a lidiar con esto. Aún así, hace más de cuatro años, seguimos visitándolos.

No es tan constante. No es tan intenso como lo fue en el primer año, pero sigue siendo algo que forma parte de nuestras vidas. Tratamos de hacerle frente. Tenemos una biblioteca de libros y herramientas, herramientas para la ansiedad, desde libros para colorear hasta bolas de estrés y juegos.

Todo este conjunto de sistemas de apoyo, ya sean sus maestros en la escuela o los terapeutas que hemos contratado o los médicos que lo saben, cosas así.

¿Cuál es tu consejo para otros padres?

Creo que es depende del niño. Tienes que tener un cierto nivel de deferencia y dejar que el niño dirija. No hasta el punto de ignorarlo por completo. Tengo dos hijos: Uno a quien le gusta hablar de eso y conocer todos los detalles, y otro que apenas hace preguntas. Así que me comunico con ellos de manera totalmente diferente.

Al que siempre me pregunta le comparto la información. Con mi hijo que no hace preguntas me aseguro de siempre incluirlo en la conversación poco a poco para evitar que entre en un estado de negación. Creo que conocer a tu hijo es lo más importante.

Busca a los profesionales.

No creo que se pueda hacer sin la guía de un experto, porque es algo que no se aprende hasta que se vive por cuenta propia. Busque a alguien profesional. Si no funciona no se dé por vencido. Todos necesitamos diferentes tipos de personalidades y apoyo.

La primera trabajadora social en el hospital no era compatible con nuestra familia, pero finalmente encontré a la persona adecuada. A veces hay que hacer prueba y error, pero sepa que es algo esencial.

¿Cómo te pusiste en contacto con los profesionales?

Tuve algunas fuentes. El hospital cuenta con trabajadores sociales en el personal, pero esas personas no terminaron siendo compatibles con nuestra familia. El primer año tuvimos trabajadores sociales que estaban en la escuela y eran realmente buenos y muy amables.

El año próximo se cambiaron y el reemplazo no fue igual de bueno, así que terminé investigando, hablando con amigos y familiares. Fue así como encontré gente por mi cuenta que no era parte del hospital.

¿Cuál es tu consejo para pacientes que acaban de ser diagnosticados con cáncer de pulmón?

Mi consejo número uno para cualquier paciente con cáncer de pulmón es que se haga una prueba genética. Sin importar quien sea, e incluso si tiene antecedentes de tabaquismo o si es un paciente mayor, todos deben realizarse pruebas genéticas porque nunca se sabe si su cáncer tiene mutaciones dirigibles.

Si lo hace, sus estadísticas de supervivencia cambian drásticamente.

Su calidad de vida es importante. En mi caso, hay cosas con las que tengo que lidiar día a día, pero en general vivo una vida bastante normal. Llevo a mis hijos a la escuela, tomo clases de ejercicio, viajo; hago el 90% de las cosas que hacía antes.

Es lo más cercano que puedo llegar a mi antigua vida con un diagnóstico como este. Es mucho más normal que con la quimioterapia en la cual tengo que estar pegada a la bolsa de infusión cada tres semanas.

También, busque a su gente.

Una vez que recibe un diagnóstico positivo de una mutación genética, o si es negativa, vaya y busque a gente con su misma condición. Hoy en día hay grupos de todo tipo. Entre más específico sea el grupo mejor ya que entre más se informe mejor será el resultado.

SI encuentra a ese grupo estará inmediatamente puesta al tanto de los estudios clínicos y tratamientos, conferencias, efectos secundarios, etc. Será mucho más fácil conseguir esa información en vez de buscar por cuenta propia entre miles y miles de bases de datos.

Lo que en algún momento se conocía como incurable está cambiando.

Existen nuevos tratamientos como la immunoterapia y la terapia dirigida que, aunque no son curas del todo, le otorgan al paciente muchos más años de vida que los que tendrían hace diez años.

Existe una población que ahora sabe que vive con una condición como esta pero que sigue con su vida. Yo ya no estoy pegada a mi tanque de oxígeno sin salir de mi casa, sino que vivo mi vida.

Al principio es difícil salir al mundo porque aunque te ves normal y la gente te trata de manera normal, tu sabes que por dentro estás lidiando con algo y a veces no te sientes bien o estás inestable emocionalmente. Es un proceso y toma tiempo ajustarse.

Es lo que pasa tras haber vivido una experiencia que realmente desestabiliza el ambiente al que uno está acostumbrado; uno sabe lo repentino que es y como te afecta y eso te deja traumado.

No es lo mismo saber que todos vamos a morir algún día y decir, por ende, que hay que vivir cada día al máximo, a haber vivido una experiencia que literalmente te puso entre la vida y la muerte y tener que vivir con eso cada día.

¿Cómo lidiaste con el estrés emocional?

Creo que estoy mejorando en eso. Honestamente, abrazo la vida y digo, está bien, esta es mi situación. Muchas personas tienen cosas difíciles con las que viven, ya sea que vivan en un lugar devastado por la guerra o en la pobreza o con un diagnóstico serio; todos tenemos nuestras luchas y en este momento esta es la mía.

¿Qué voy a hacer para seguir viviendo mi vida y seguir buscando mis planes a futuro? Lo que hice fue planear un viaje para seis meses después. Se me hizo algo un poco raro pero me estoy acostumbrando.

¿Qué fue lo que más te ayudó?

Hago todo tipo de cosas. Muchas de ellas me las recomiendan una y otra vez, como la meditación. No me gusta meditar pero lo intento.

He hecho todas las otras cosas fáciles como conseguir libros para colorear y libros divertidos para leer, revistas, todo tipo de cosas para calmarme. Depende de los gustos de cada quien, pero tener pelotas para el estrés, plastilina, libros, series de TV; todo ayuda.

Creo que es genial y divertido, pero en realidad se trata más de un cambio de mentalidad. Hay que aceptar el lugar en el que estoy y que puede ser que esté ahí por un tiempo. Eso me permitió vivir mi vida día a día.

Tomó mucho tiempo, conversaciones con amigos, terapeutas y muchos libros encontrar la manera de seguir viviendo con mi condición.

La familia es una parte importante de este viaje.

El cáncer no solo me afectó a mí; le afectó a toda mi familia. Y aunque todos me han apoyado mucho, todos han tenido sus procesos también.

Estoy segura de que fue, y sigue siendo, aterrador para mi esposo enfrentar la posibilidad de perder a su pareja y de tener que criar a nuestros hijos como padre soltero. De igual manera mis padres siguen angustiados por la posibilidad de perder a su hija.

No me puedo poner en sus zapatos, pero noto que todos hemos pasado por esto de maneras distintas y a cada quien nos ha afectado de manera personal.

El apoyo llegó de aquellos que ya habían pasado por traumas.

Me sorprendió un poco ver qué amigos aparecían y qué amigos no. No los estoy juzgando, simplemente muchas veces dependía de si habían tenido alguna experiencia con este tipo de diagnósticos.

Tengo dos amigos que habían perdido a un padre por esclerosis amiotrófica lateral (ELA). También tengo una amiga cuyo esposo fue diagnosticado con cáncer apenas unos años atrás. Ellos tenían un marco de referencia para enfrentar la mortalidad y lidiar con un trauma de esta magnitud.

Los amigos que no tenían ese marco de referencia simplemente no entendían lo que necesitaba o deseaba o qué límites eran apropiados o inapropiados. Es interesante ver cómo se desarrolla eso.

Es difícil porque, por un lado, creo que uno debe de salir de la zona de confort ya que tiendo a ser introvertida y se me dificulta pedirle ayuda a la gente. Así que aprecio cuando alguien es un poco más agresivo y toma la iniciativa antes de que yo les pida cualquier cosa.

El apoyo también llegó de lugares inesperados.

Creo que depende de la relación que uno tenga con esas personas. Había personas con las que no tenía una relación estrecha que se acercaron conmigo.

Una mujer que era mi estudiante en unas clases de acondicionamiento físico que enseñé se acercó, pero en verdad no la conocía muy bien. Fue muy generosa y me trajo comida junto con otra gente. Así o hizo de nuevo otras varias veces y un día me dijo que si quería salir a caminar para platicar le dijera.

Me contó que ella perdió a su esposo por un cáncer cerebral.Gracias a eso nos volvimos más cercanas. En situaciones como esta es mejor no ser agresivo. Hay gente con la que uno se conecta debido a que ellos entienden dado a que han pasado por experiencias similares.

Categories
Alimta (pemetrexed) Avastin (bevacizumab) Lung Cancer Metastatic Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Patient Stories Platinol (cisplatin) ROS1 Stanford Targeted Therapy Xalkori (crizotinib)

Lisa’s Stage 4 ROS1+ Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Story

Lisa’s Stage 4 ROS1+ Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Story

Lisa is a passionate patient advocate for ROS1+ lung cancer patients after she was diagnosed with stage 4 at just 45 years old.

In her interview, Lisa talks about dealing with the stigma of lung cancer despite being a never-smoker, undergoing chemotherapy and targeted therapy, how she dealt with cancer as a parent, and the kind of support that has been the most important.

Lisa
  • Name: Lisa G.
  • Diagnosis (DX):
    • Non-small cell lung cancer (NSCLC)
      • ROS1-positive (ROS1+)
    • Stage 4
  • Age at DX: 45
  • 1st Symptoms:
    • Persistent cough (months)
    • Coughing a little blood
    • High fever
    • Night sweats
  • Misdiagnoses:
    • Common cold
    • Bronchitis
    • Irritated airwaves (to explain the blood in cough)
  • Treatment:
    • Chemotherapy: cisplatin + bevacizumab (Avastin) + pemetrexed (Alimta)
      • 4 cycles
      • Cycle = 3 weeks
      • Given over ~12 hours in one day
    • Maintenance chemotherapy:
      • Bevacizumab (Avastin) + pemetrexed (Alimta)
        • 4 cycles
        • Cycle = 3 weeks
      • Given over ~6-8 hours in one day
    • Targeted therapy: crizotinib (Xaltori)
Lisa timeline

Know that if you’re Googling the prognostics or predicted survival curves for stage 4 lung cancer, please set that aside. Most of that information is outdated.

These new treatments, whether it be targeted therapy or immunotherapy or customized vaccines — whatever else is coming out there — are really dramatically shifting survival rates.

Have some hope and positivity because I’m nothing if not living proof that those predictions aren’t always true.

Lisa G.

Table Of Contents
  1. Diagnosis
  2. Treatment Decisions
  3. Chemotherapy and Side Effects
  4. Targeted Therapy
  5. Reflections

This interview has been edited for clarity. This is not medical advice. Please consult with your healthcare provider for treatment decisions.


Diagnosis

How did you get diagnosed?

Summary: I was misdiagnosed with a cold and bronchitis for months. By the time I was diagnosed, I had 3 broken ribs from coughing so hard, night sweats, fevers, and was coughing up a little bit of blood. I had undergone multiple X-rays when I should have gotten a low-dose CT scan. That would have shown the cancer.

 I rarely got sick or went to the doctor, but I had had a persistent cold and cough for several weeks and finally decided to go to the doctor. I hate taking even antibiotics because I want to save them for when I really need them.

I’m not the type to run to the doctor to get those. It took a lot, probably a month, and finally I dragged myself there and went to my first appointment with the urgent care because it was over a weekend, and my friend said just go and get some antibiotics.

So that’s what I did. I went to the urgent care that just happened to be open on the weekends, and they did a quick X-ray of my lungs. They gave me antibiotics and codeine cough syrup to stop the cough. They said the X-ray looked totally clean.

This was in October. I was very physically fit. I was teaching about 5 spin classes a week and all kinds of other exercise classes, eating healthfully, and all that stuff. I took those medications and didn’t get better. In fact, I got a little worse. 

What happened at the primary care doctor visit?

Then I went to my primary care doctor in mid-November a couple weeks later and said, “The coughing is getting worse.” She took a listen to my lungs, just did a quick exam, and said she thought it was still just a garden-variety type of bronchitis or something.

She gave me a different kind of antibiotic and an inhaler. It was the first inhaler I’d ever had in my life.

I never had asthma or allergies, anything like that. Now, looking back, I wish I had pushed back a little bit more and said, ‘Why are you not looking further into something and treating something I have no history of?’ But that’s what we did.

I went home with this inhaler and some other medicines and tried that for a few weeks. It wasn’t getting better. I went back again in the beginning of December, and again, same routine. She just upped the level to a more heavy-duty inhaler with steroids, and it still didn’t work.

When did your symptoms worsen?

I started coughing up blood. This was mid-December. I wanted to check in with her. I wasn’t coughing up volumes of it; I was just coughing up a little spot here or there.

It wasn’t bright red. It was dark orange, kind of brownish color. Just a little, tiny bit, not alarming like, “Oh, I really need to get myself to the hospital.” It was just like, “Hmm, I’ve never had that before. What is that?”

I went to the doctor, who said it was irritated airwaves, that I’d been coughing for months now, and it was just inflamed. She said she was not going to worry about it and suggested I go home.

It was the winter holiday, so my kids were out of school. We were going to go to my childhood home to visit my parents.

My doctor said, “Go enjoy your vacation. If things aren’t better when you come back in January, we’ll do another X-ray.” I said okay. I went home to my parents’ house in Palm Desert in Southern California. 

Then it started accelerating. I was having high fever and night sweats and coughing horribly, coughing so much that we discovered later I had 3 broken ribs.

My mom said, “Go now and get another X-ray right now.” That’s what I did.

Describe the ER visit

I went into the ER in Palm Desert. They did an X-ray.

Now that I know more about all this, what they should’ve done, based on the X-ray, was sent me for a CT right then and there.

They didn’t. They said they definitely saw something on the X-ray that was not normal, but they thought it was pneumonia. They said, “We’re going to give you some other medications, some more heavy-duty cough medications, and when you get home in a couple weeks, then go get a CT.” 

You got a second opinion from a family friend

Mark, a family friend who was a physician, happened to be visiting my parents during the holidays as well. He took one look at me. He’s not an oncologist; he’s not even a pulmonologist. He’s a retired gastroenterologist.

He never used the word “cancer,” but he said, “This is not adding up. You haven’t responded for months to all these medications, and you’re getting worse. Stop messing around with the primary care physician. Right now go call and make an appointment for a pulmonologist.”

Describe the pulmonologist visit

I was going home in a couple days, so at that point it didn’t make sense to seek treatment in Palm Desert. The day I got home, I went to see a pulmonologist.

He took a listen to my lungs and read my O2 (oxygen) level, which was really compromised. I can’t remember. It was maybe in the 70s at the time, and normal is 99 or 100%.

He said, “Go down and get a CT immediately.” That day, he sent me down for a CT. Again, I didn’t appreciate how abnormal this was because I didn’t go to the doctor a lot.

I went right back upstairs to this pulmonologist, whom I had just met, and he pulled up the images of the CT. When he pulled it up, both my lungs were just covered, totally whited out. That’s really bad.

But he never said the word ‘cancer.’ It wasn’t even on my mind because I wasn’t what I thought was the typical lung cancer patient.

He said, “We need to go get a biopsy.” I think it’s something called sarcoidosis. He really downplayed it, so I wasn’t freaking out. We made an appointment for the next week to get a biopsy.

Luckily, my family friend Mark was going to be in the Bay Area. He came with me to that biopsy, and I was diagnosed right as I woke up from the biopsy. 

Mark was there in the recovery room with my husband, able to translate the information that was being thrown at us. 

The surgeon didn’t sugarcoat the diagnosis

I hope other people have better experiences. When I woke up, I had my husband near my bed, and this family doctor friend, Mark. At the very foot of the bed was the surgeon who’d done the biopsy, who I’d only met once before at the pre-biopsy appointment.

Obviously, as I was being wheeled in, he was in the room, but I never really built a relationship with him. There he is at the foot of my bed. It’s 8 on a Friday night. He wants to go home. I don’t blame him, but he just said, “Looks like stage 4 lung cancer. There will be an oncologist who will show up in your room tonight and good luck. Goodnight.”

And he just left. So it was not great. 

What were you feeling when you were diagnosed?

It’s such a shock and so overwhelming and so foreign to be diagnosed with something that I’ve never researched.

I’d never known anybody who had it, knew nothing about it at all, even just basic medical terms. I was out of it.

I had never even had anesthesia before in my life, so I was just waking up from that and a little out of it and the shock of the diagnosis.

I think I was probably scared to go home, but I didn’t understand that it would be unsafe. I couldn’t differentiate between that, whereas having Mark there really helped.

They were ready to send me home after that biopsy, and Mark was there saying, “No, she’s tachycardic (high heart rate).” I didn’t even know what tachycardic meant at the time.

He ended up talking to them and saying, “You can’t release her.” I ended up being in the ICU for a week, so it’s crazy.

I shudder to think of what it would have been like to be sent home in that condition. I was on oxygen. They were going to send me home without oxygen.

I ended up being on oxygen for almost 2 months. When I finally came home from the ICU, I just brought the tanks home with me. I am so grateful that he was there to help. 

»MORE: Patients share how they processed a cancer diagnosis

What was it like being on oxygen 24/7?

The hospital set this all up. They contract with a provider, who comes in and sets up a compressor in the house. It’s this thing that looks like a portable air conditioning unit.

I got this really long hose, so I could walk anywhere in the house. It’s like having a leash. It’s a hose from the compressor that’s kind of noisy, so we set it up in the living room so it’s not near the bedrooms.

Then I had this hose going all through the house, to my bed or wherever I was walking in the house. Of course, it’s always in the way, people are tripping on it, getting caught in doors, pain in the neck — but then you don’t have to have a tank that you’re switching out. It’s compressing oxygen from the air in the house.

When I wanted to leave the house, which wasn’t very often in those early days, especially because of the oxygen, I had this portable tank that I could either wheel. Eventually, I got one that was in a little backpack-type thing that I could carry on my shoulder.

To be honest, those almost made me a little bit nervous, so I was a bit housebound those first couple of months.

Treatment Decisions

The diagnosis was out of left field because you never smoked

I learned the hard way. Even though I had already heard the year before of a younger patient who got diagnosed with lung cancer, I still thought, “Wow, that’s so weird.”

I didn’t even have to think it would ever happen to me. It was just, “That’s weird, and these unusual things happen one in a million.” Then when it actually happened to me and I started finding out more about lung cancer and finding other fellow lung cancer patients, I realized this is not what I thought it was at all.

Lung cancer is on the rise in never-smokers. It’s on the rise in younger people. It’s on the rise in women. 

It’s not the stereotypical haggard smoker, had a 2-pack-a-day habit for decades. That’s not the typical patient anymore. Here’s the statistics I have heard.

About 20% of the newly diagnosed patients are active smokers. That leaves 80% who aren’t. A big chunk of that, about 60%, are former smokers, but a lot of those former smokers quit decades ago, so they think of themselves as long-time non-smokers. 

Who knows? Some of those people, I’m sure their smoking history has to do with their lung cancer diagnosis, but some of them maybe not. We’ve never examined that because of the stigma and the assumptions that lung cancer is only and always due to smoking. 

How did you decide which hospital to go to?

When I went in for my biopsy, cancer hadn’t even been discussed. I thought I was just going in for an outpatient procedure, and then we would deal with that, whatever the results were after.

When I woke up, I was admitted to the hospital immediately thereafter and told it was stage 4 lung cancer and that we needed to start treatment immediately.

I spent the next day doing baseline scans, and then they started my chemotherapy right there in the hospital 24 hours later.

I didn’t have time to research doctors or hospitals and pick where I wanted to go. I still don’t even know quite how that happened. An oncologist just showed up in my room and was like, “Here’s our plan, and do as I say, or this isn’t going to work out. This isn’t going to go well for you.”

I wasn’t given options. Later on down the line, I was lucky. It turned out that oncologist who showed up did a great job for me. 

»MORE: How to be a self-advocate as a patient

What made you switch to a lung cancer specialist?

As I got my bearings, I started to research and found she was a general oncologist. I wondered if I should get myself to a thoracic oncologist who specializes in lung cancer.

I eventually found out I tested positive for a genomic alteration called ROS1-positive (ROS1+), and I wanted to be with someone who had other patients that had that same diagnosis. 

I started looking away from the community hospitals and toward Stanford and UCSF, which were accessible. I did some second opinions there a few months after my diagnosis at both of those places and eventually shifted to one for a few months. Didn’t love it.

Why did you switch back to a smaller hospital?

I had these great ideas of, “Oh, if I just go to [a major hospital], everything’s going to be great there.” It’s not that the doctors aren’t brilliant there, but I definitely felt like a number.

The emphasis on research there overshadows the patient care in my experience, so I ended up shifting back to a community hospital, where the nurses knew my name.

I had my oncologist’s phone number, and he was responsive to me and just accessible. Not that the other doctors aren’t responsive, but you don’t have the same kind of access. There’s just so many layers you have to go through to get to the doctor, and the doctor’s not in clinic very often, one day a week. 

I ended up shifting back to a general oncologist in a community setting, but having established relationships at the academic centers so I can consult them when I have to make some major decision in my care. For the day-to-day labs or even the regular schedule scans, it’s so much better for me to be at the community setting.

Advice on building the relationship with your doctor

I struggle with finding the right balance in building the right relationship with my oncologist and my care team because there’s all this pressure.

Constantly, patients are given the message, “You have to advocate for yourself. You have to push. You have to come in with all your research.” I do all that, but also you want to be deferential.

These are the experts. I don’t have a medical degree. This sounds embarrassing to say, but you want to be liked. You want your doctor to care about you and smile when you enter the room and not like, “Ugh, this person’s constantly arguing, pushing, and questioning.” It’s been a process for me to learn how to balance those 2.

I definitely advocate for myself, but I also try to have some deference and build a relationship.

My advice is find the right match but also always, always get second opinions and create a sort of team.

Here’s whom I go to for my regular care, but maybe if I have questions, maybe I have some expert who’s very specialized but wouldn’t be great for my day-to-day care or is even available for that.

That person knows about me, so when I need them, I can reach out. I have other people on the team that fill other roles. I have a therapist I see for my emotional stuff because that’s not what an oncologist does.

The one thing I think is most important for me and the doctor is that they will listen and also agree to work and accept that I have these other people on the team.

What I found doesn’t work for me is a doctor who wants to be in charge and doesn’t want input from me or anybody else. That would be probably a suggestion for other patients is to look for doctors who have expertise but are also willing to listen to others. 

Chemotherapy and Side Effects

The Patient Story (formerly OneDavid)
Did you choose treatment?

I wasn’t given choices. I definitely had to sign off permission, so I guess technically I had a choice not to sign. Basically, the oncologist came in and said, “You’re relatively young. You’re healthy and fit, so I think you can tolerate a really aggressive chemotherapy prescription. I want to start as soon as possible.”

Here’s what the 3 drugs are. It was cisplatin, Avastin and Alimta. Cisplatin is so toxic they actually have to infuse you with a whole bunch of saline before and after to wash your kidneys. It’s actually a 12-hour infusion because of the before and after, in addition to the infusion itself. She’s like, “I think you can take it, so we’re going to start that immediately.” 

  • Treatment cycle:
    • Chemotherapy: Cisplatin + bevacizumab (Avastin) + pemetrexed (Alimta)
      • 4 cycles
        • Cycle = 3 weeks
        • Given over ~12 hours in one day
    • Maintenance chemotherapy: bevacizumab (Avastin) + pemetrexed (Alimta)
      • 4 cycles
        • Cycle = 3 weeks
          Given over ~6-8 hours in one day
    • Targeted therapy: crizotinib (Xaltori)
How many cycles of chemo did you undergo?

I underwent 4 cycles of chemotherapy with cisplatin, bevacizumab (Avastin), and pemetrexed (Alimta). Each cycle lasted 3 weeks.

The infusion was the first day for about 12 hours.  The first was one right there in the hospital, and it takes about 12 hours. I tolerated the first one pretty well.

Because they know cisplatin is so difficult to tolerate, they give you all sorts of stuff before and after you take it. It’s not just steroids, but there’s an extra drug called Emend that you take to prevent nausea. I was on all kinds of things to help ameliorate the difficulty of tolerating the chemo.

For maintenance chemo, they just took out the cisplatin. It was still 4 cycles, 3 weeks each. The infusion was shorter at around 6 to 8 hours on that first day. Altogether, I was on chemotherapy for 8 months.

What were the side effects of chemo?

The nausea’s the one that jumps out in my memory. It’s all the side effects of the things that are supposed to treat the side effects.

Those steroids are brutal. They interrupt your sleep; they make you a little crazy emotionally. Speaking of emotional, I wouldn’t call that necessarily a side effect of chemo as much as a side effect of being thrown a total curve ball in your life, but I think it’s really important part of treatment.

In addition to your prescription for your medications, I wish they gave everybody a prescription to go visit palliative care and to also go visit a social worker, therapist, or some emotional support like that. I think that’s really key to coping with this, and it has actual ramifications in terms of how well you tolerate your treatments and how your quality of life is.

Specifically, the first cycle went pretty well. I didn’t get that nauseous. The second one also, but these things accumulate. By the fourth one, I was really feeling it. I definitely remember barely being able to walk out of the infusion lab by the fourth one.

That triplet with the cisplatin, I only did 4 rounds. Every 3 weeks, I would go in for that. Then they shifted to what they called “maintenance chemo,” and they took out the cisplatin but left me with the Avastin and Alimta, which was much more tolerable but still had side effects.

I was still taking anti-nausea medication and steroids. Then it caused high blood pressure, so I had blood pressure and all these things. You know how it goes. 

The first week after the infusion, make no appointments. Just plan on being home pretty much and get yourself a nice Netflix subscription and whatever.

Then you start to feel better, and I was myself by the third week. That was a good week. You live your life on this, ‘Okay, everything I want to do I have to compress in week 3.’ You go through that whole thing every 3 weeks.

Please rate the side effects you got from chemo

Everyone tracks differently. Lisa rates her side effects with chemo an 8 out of 10. This indicates that she happened to have a more difficult experience. 

As for her experience with side effects on the maintenance chemo, Lisa rates her experience at a 6 out of 10, making it better than her primary chemo, when she also had to get the Cisplatin drug infusion.

»More: Patients discuss various side effects

How did you respond to chemo?

I would go for a scan [depending] on how the symptoms were going and such. The triplet with the cisplatin, I had a good response to, so my scans started improving pretty drastically. I never got to a place where there was nothing on the scans, but it was much improved so much that after about 2 rounds of chemo, I was able to come off the oxygen (tank).

It was quite a sight. I was always the youngest person in the infusion lab usually, but I was the worst looking because I had the oxygen tank. I had the hose in my nose, schlepping the tank around. If I’d have to go to the bathroom, I’d have the pole with the infusion stuff and my oxygen tank.

I was just a mess of cords and whatever. The triplet worked really well, but it’s not tolerable long term. Then I went to maintenance chemo, and the symptoms started creeping back after a few months. I started coughing, and the scans started showing the cancer returning. After 8 months, it was clearly not working anymore.

Luckily, really luckily, I had found out earlier that my cancer tested positive for ROS1. We knew that there was a targeted therapy drug that I could take for that, so that’s when I switched. I’ve been on that ever since. 

Did you lose your hair?

They told me I would. Cisplatin typically does make people lose their hair, so I did the whole wig shopping thing. Those are expensive! I regret it because actually my hair thinned quite a bit, but it never fell out completely.

»More: Patients discuss hair loss after cancer

I cut it short, then went wig shopping, and was all ready. Now it’s still sitting in my closet unused. For me, I didn’t end up completely losing my hair.

I probably would have cared more if it actually happened, but when they told me that it came along with all this other news that was more terrifying, I was more focused on what I am going to tell my kids. My prognosis was about 9 months, so the hair was low priority on that scale. 

Targeted Therapy

How did you learn about the targeted therapy drug?

I had my biopsy at El Camino Hospital, the local hospital here in Mountain View. My biopsy was done on January 10, and I found out later that starting on January 1 of that year was when they started testing all the lung cancer biopsies that came through the pathology lab there for ROS1.

Without me even having to ask for the genomic testing, they had instituted a process where they did that automatically just a few days before my biopsy.

It took a few weeks for those results to come in, so I didn’t find out until after I started chemotherapy. They decided to keep me on the chemotherapy train until it stopped working since we’d already started that treatment course.

I knew pretty early on that I was ROS1-positive and that there was a targeted therapy. The complication was the targeted therapy was not FDA-approved at that point, so the doctor, the community hospital general oncologist I’d been working with, had never used or tried to use that targeted therapy on my type of cancer because it wasn’t even FDA-approved at that point.

I was doing my own research and had found that it was already in phase 3 trials in the U.S. The results had been so compelling it had been fast-tracked with the FDA. Insurance was already approving it for some patients out there.

I asked her to prescribe it and submit it for insurance approval so we would have it available. She was a little reluctant at the time, so I advocated for myself.

Self-advocacy as a patient

My doctor told me after this chemo not to worry. She was trying to reassure me to not worry and that I had other chemotherapies that we could try.

I was like, “No, no, I really have been hearing great things about this targeted therapy. Let’s look into that.” 

»More: How to be a self-advocate as a patient

How were you feeling at this point?

My doctor told me I had stage 4 lung cancer, but she never said, “That means you have this prognosis, this many months.” Of course, I avoided Googling that explicitly for awhile.

Finally, I worked up the confidence to do that, and it’s not good. But those numbers are out of date at this point. The targeted therapies are really changing the survival curves dramatically.

I’m the kind of person that needs to know more. I know some patients prefer not to know anything and have kind of a gatekeeper — might be a spouse or just a friend or whoever — sift through that and give them whatever they need to know, but I need to know it myself, directly.

I did a lot of research on my own. Sometimes that’s hard to read, but for me, in the end, knowledge is more helpful rather than less.

Were there any targeted therapy side effects?

With targeted therapy, when I switched to it, I almost had a more difficult time the first 6 months. It made me more nauseous than the chemotherapy. I just remember being on my bedroom floor every morning for months. 

I didn’t have the bad weeks. Eventually it evened out, I got a handle on the side effects, and my body adjusted. I didn’t have a bad week then good week. It was consistently. I never got to the lows or the highs. That took some adjustment. I’ve lived with this medication.

Luckily, I feel so grateful. I’ve been on this medication almost 4 years now.

There’s chronic things. I have edema. I have some nausea. It’s totally under control most of the time, but it’s just part of my daily life. There’s these certain things that I live with and am never rid of, whereas with chemotherapy, ironically, there was the good days where the very best days were actually better than the targeted therapy days.

Please rate your side effects from the targeted therapy
How long have you been on the targeted therapy?

I’ve been super, super fortunate. Knock on wood here, because I was put on this targeted therapy called Xalkori in September of 2014. I was told that the median effective time for the drug would be 12 to 18 months, and I’m still on it. I’m approaching the 4-year mark on this medication.

I’m clearly on the outlier end of the spectrum, which is great, but it’s also nerve-racking because I know that I’m kind of winning the lottery, and my number might come up — and not in a good way — at some point.

I don’t know that many people. The further out I go, the less people I know ahead of me. I know a lot of people on this medication, but I’ve gone from looking out and saying, “I want to be one of those people that’s 4 to 5 years on this drug,” to, “Now I’m the one everybody else is looking at, and I’m losing the people ahead of me.”

That’s my particular struggle right now. How do I confront that now? I’m feeling good right now. Luckily, I have no symptoms that are causing me great concern. Of course, that doesn’t always correlate with how the scans go, but I’m optimistic right now.

This is the longest interval for the whole period since I was diagnosed. I was getting scanned every 2 to 4 months, 2 to 3 most of that time. Last year, I shifted to every 4 months for a couple cycles. This is the first time I’ve gone 6 months, so it’s been a big one! 

Reflections

How do you talk to your kids about the cancer?

Having a diagnosis like this when you have young kids at home is, in my view, the hardest part of it. The world turns upside down.

I came home on oxygen and sick. My mom basically moved in for months. It was a radical shift. There was no hiding it from the kids, for better or for worse.

I don’t necessarily think it was for worse because it’s a strange place to be now, where I appear normal, yet I know I’m still dealing with a very scary situation. That’s a strange thing for me to wrap my head around, let alone young children.

In a way, having this tangible thing — it is real, and you can see it — I think helps process. It helps everybody face it and deal with it. 

I have had friends who went straight into targeted therapy, and it’s like, “Mom was sick, and now she’s better.” When they did get worse, it was like another trauma. My family didn’t have that experience.

We had to face it head-on. I definitely contacted therapists and social workers to help us figure out how to help the kids deal with this. Still, 4-plus years into this, we still have them visit people.

Not as constant. It’s not as intense as it was in the first year, but it’s still something that is very much part of our lives. We try to cope with it. We have a library of books and tools, anxiety tools, from coloring books to stress balls to games.

This whole stable of support systems, whether it’s their teachers at school, the therapists we’ve hired, or the doctors that know about it. Things like that.

Any advice for other parents dealing with diagnosis?

I think it’s different, depending on the kid. You have to have some level of deference and let the kid lead. Not to the extent of ignoring it entirely. I have 2 kids. One that likes to talk about it and know all the details, and one kid that barely asks any questions at all.

I communicate with them totally differently. The one who wants to know the details I share. The one who doesn’t, I don’t necessarily get into the nitty-gritty, but I actually make sure to weave it into the conversation a little bit so we’re not in a denial situation. I think that you have to know your kid.

Seeking out professionals

I don’t think you can do this without an expert’s guidance because you don’t know how to do this until you’ve been through it. There’s no way you can have experience with it. 

Seek out a professional. If the professional doesn’t work, don’t give up on professionals. Find another one, because they’re all so personal.

We all need different types of personalities and support. The first social worker at the hospital wasn’t a match for our family, but eventually I did find the right person. It takes trial and error sometimes, but it’s so crucial.

How did you find the professionals?

There were a few sources. The hospital has social workers on staff, but those people ended up not being a match for our family.

We got really lucky. There were social workers at school that first year, and those people were really good. They switched out the next year, and the replacement was not good.

I ended up having to do some research, talking to friends and family, finding people outside the system just privately. It can come from a lot of different places. 

What’s your advice to people dealing with a new diagnosis?

My number one advice to any lung cancer patient is to go get genomic testing. I don’t care who you are. Even if you have a history of smoking or you’re an older patient, whatever it is, everyone should get genomic testing because you never know if your cancer is going to turn out to have one of these targetable mutations. If it does, your survival statistics change drastically.

Your quality of life. There are these things I have to deal with chronically, but overall I live a pretty normal life.

I carpool my kids to school. I do take exercise classes. I travel. I do 90% of what I was doing before, so it’s as close to normal life as you can possibly get with this type of diagnosis. Much closer than the chemotherapy, where I’m tethered to the infusion every few weeks and on that roller coaster.

Also, find your people.

Once you know your genomic mutation, if you have one — or even if you don’t, if you’re considered wild type — go find the people with that. There’s groups with everything now.

I’m part of a ROS1+ group. There’s a group for EGFR-positive (EGFR+) patients, for ALK positive (ALK+), for KRAS. There’s hundreds of types of lung cancer out there now. The more specific you can search for and find those communities, the better information you’re going to get back.

You find those people, and you’ll immediately be plugged into all the current clinical trials, who the world experts are, where the conferences are, and the side effects for our medication.

All that great information is going to be at your fingertips really quickly, rather than wading through all the general information about cancer or even just lung cancer. Find your very specific sisters and brothers out there. 

What was once considered “incurable” is changing

I have a friend that re-labeled “PTSD” (post-traumatic stress disorder) to “OTSD” (ongoing traumatic stress disorder) because I think the medical field hasn’t quite caught up to the realities of this new category of patients.

Those of us that have been given diagnoses that are what they would call “incurable.” In the past, say, a decade prior, people receiving that diagnosis would probably pass away in less than a year, so it was this dramatic diagnosis with no good treatments, and then the patient would pass away.

Of course, they’d have PTSD, but they didn’t have to go on living their normal lives. They were just immediately plunged into the chaos and panic until it was over.

For those of us living for years with these diagnoses and often on targeted therapy, or now immunotherapy is doing this as well. CAR T is now out there. There are all these breakthroughs that aren’t cures but are extending lives for years beyond what they used to.

There’s this whole new population that has to live with the knowledge that they have this very severe diagnosis and yet proceed with living, right?

I’m not in the crisis stage, where I’m on oxygen and housebound anymore. I’m out in the world living my life while also carrying this invisible burden.

There’s so many ways that that has played out. It’s a whole process that I’m constantly evolving with. For a long time, it felt very strange to be out in the world. I just remember being in line at the grocery store and thinking nobody knows what I’m dealing with.

I look normal. People are treating me normally, but I’m not normal. I might not feel well, or maybe I feel okay, but I have all this emotional stuff. 

There’s just all this trauma and knowledge [of] the very vivid recent experience of the rug being ripped from out under your feet and knowing that that could happen at any time in such a visceral way.

As much as people say, “Make the most of today. We all die.” There’s a difference between intellectually knowing that and experiencing that and the trauma of that. Living with that is something that I’m constantly a work in progress trying to figure out how to proceed. 

How did you manage the emotional stress?

I think I’m getting better at it. I honestly do embrace life and say, “Okay, I have this.” Lots of people have difficult things they live with, whether they’re living in some war-torn place or in poverty or a serious diagnosis. We all have our struggles, and this is mine currently.

How am I going to go on living my life and planning for things in the future and getting comfortable with that? Like, okay, I’m going to plan a trip for 6 months a way. That blew my mind initially, and now I’m getting used to it.

What has helped you deal with the toughest stuff?

I have all kinds of tools that I use. A lot of them, you’ll hear about over and over again.

If I had a nickel for every time somebody told me to meditate… I suck at it still, like so many of us do. I don’t love meditating, but I try.

I’ve done all the other easy things. Get the coloring books and the fun books to read, the magazines, whatever calms you, whether it’s your favorite TV show, movie, book, or coloring books.

We have this great alternative bookstore in Mountain View called East West, and they have fun things. Stress balls to squeeze, or I have this Play-Doh.

You can spend your money however you want. You can get magic crystal necklaces or mala beads to play with. I have it all in a toolkit like that.

I think that’s great. That’s fun, but really it’s about a mindset and shifting my mindset, accepting where I’m at and the possibility that I could be there for a while, and allowing myself to live my life today.

It took a lot of time, a lot of talking with friends and therapists, reading books, and figuring out how I can proceed with this

Family has been a big part of the journey

Cancer didn’t just happen to me. It happened to my whole family. Everybody’s been really supportive of me, but they all have had their processes, too.

I’m sure it was terrifying. It still is terrifying for my husband to face the prospect of losing his partner potentially and what it would be like to raise kids as a single parent. My mother is obviously distraught at the possibility of losing her daughter — both my parents.

I don’t know what it’s like to be in one of those roles, but I can appreciate that everybody has gone through this. It affects all of us a little differently.

Support came from those who’ve been through their own trauma

I was a little bit surprised at which friends showed up and which friends didn’t. That’s not a judgment on them, but a lot of times it had to do with whether they had some relevant experience of not this diagnosis, [but their own trauma]. 

I have 2 friends who had lost a parent to ALS. I have one friend whose husband had a cancer diagnosis a few years prior. They just had some frame of reference for facing mortality and dealing with a trauma of this magnitude.

Friends who didn’t have that frame of reference tried to show up a lot of times but just didn’t appreciate what I might need or want or what boundaries are appropriate or inappropriate. It’s interesting how that plays out.

It’s hard because on the one hand, I want to say, “Push the boundaries.” I tend to be introverted. I don’t like asking people for help, so I mostly appreciate it when somebody is a little pushier and just says, “Hey, I’m going to come over with this meal. I’ll just leave it here if you want to talk or don’t want to talk. Come in if you do want to talk.” But they would take the initiative. 

Support also came from unexpected places

I think you have to listen to how you’re feeling with that relationship.

There are people I had no relationship with that reached out. There was this one woman. I taught these fitness classes. She was a regular in my classes, but I didn’t really know her.

She reached out. She brought a meal, and a lot of people did that. It was amazing the people that show up are so generous. I didn’t differentiate her from the other people that were dropping off meals. She did it a few more times. Then she asked to go for a walk one day when I was feeling up to it. We did that.

Come to learn, she’d lost her husband to brain cancer. She gets this, so we’ve grown close. If you don’t [know] the person at all, don’t be pushy.

Sometimes, if you know you have that connection, you can understand, You’re getting some symbiotic relationship conversation going. Then keep going with it.

If the person isn’t responding to you, at some point, you have to know maybe it’s not personal. It’s just if I’m not feeling good, I don’t want you stopping by every other day.


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