Just as recounted to Erica Rimlinger, as my groggy mind woke up from the anesthesia-induced sleep, my mom’s voice sounded distant as she delivered the news. “The doctor couldn’t perform the surgery,” she said. “The cancer was too advanced.” The next thing I remember was a kind chaplain entering my hospital room. His presence brought me comfort as I shared my fears about the unknown. He said, “I won’t leave this room until you schedule an appointment with an oncologist.” My brain quickly woke up, and I thought, “This can’t be happening.” The next thing I thought was, “I have six children between the ages of three and 18. One of my children has autism and Down syndrome. It’s not optional. I must fight.”
Before receiving the stage 4 colon cancer diagnosis, I had neglected my health. I spent most of my time in my car, shuttling my kids to their activities and school, delivering groceries to Instacart customers, and eating fast food on the go. I was always in a rush, too busy to address my own needs due to an endless list of laundry, chores, meals, homework, and more laundry. If I could go back in time and talk to myself six years before this happened, when I had normal GI symptoms that didn’t resolve when my gallbladder was removed, I would say, “Visit your doctor again. Speak up. Tell them the gallbladder procedure didn’t alleviate the symptoms. Get the colonoscopy they recommended instead of the less comprehensive sigmoidoscopy that was cheaper. Speak your mind. Take time for this because you are worth it and your health is priceless.” But my husband had indicated that I had already spent too much time and money on my health issues, so I remained silent.
Now, lying in the hospital bed, my mind swirling with new bad news amidst a haze from the diminishing effects of anesthesia, my mission was clear. A week later, I met with a new oncologist, where I learned I couldn’t undergo surgery again, even if I had an appendicitis. “It won’t help you live longer,” he said. “You’ll have to undergo chemotherapy for the rest of your life.” I started aggressive chemotherapy and underwent genetic and biomarker testing, not only to try to find a genetic marker like Lynch syndrome, which is associated with a higher risk of colon cancer, but to help my doctor plan treatments with more effective results. However, they weren’t going to wait for the results. The biopsy identified my cancer as a 95/100 in aggressiveness. It had wrapped around my internal organs like a film and had reached my lymph nodes. While enduring treatment, I reinvented my life. I started meditating. I practiced yoga. I made time for walks and exercise. I wrote a daily gratitude journal. I sought the company of friends and family with positive attitudes. I realized how deeply I had neglected my health. There was a lot of repressed anger within me.
I began receiving counseling and learned how to care for my body, mind, and spirit better. Instead of ignoring my emotions, I now speak up. I left an unhealthy marriage and am proud of not giving up. I will dedicate the time I have left to taking care of myself and what I truly feel. I have the support system of my church, friends, family, and virtual support groups like Colon Town. The side effects of my chemotherapy are unusual but tolerable: drinking cold water feels like swallowing knives, and touching cold surfaces feels like touching knives. But honestly, I have never felt healthier. The neuropathy in my toes, another side effect of chemotherapy, doesn’t prevent me from walking 5 km to raise money and raise awareness for cancer research that will save lives.
My genetic testing indicated that my cancer was not due to genetic factors. That surprised me because I had a cousin who died of colon cancer at 41. This alarmed my sister, who had a colonoscopy and asked me to get one at the time. I was 45 then, the age at which screening starts, just as it does now, so I thought my sister was overreacting. My cousin smoked, I thought. And I’m very young. At the time, I didn’t know that colon cancer could occur at any age and that it is actually becoming more common in younger people. There was so much I didn’t know before, but I have spent this time learning about my illness, my health, and my treatment options.
I learned that there are now surgeons specializing in removing very advanced cancers. In fact, I recently had a consultation with one at Smilow Cancer Hospital with Yale Medicine who said I am eligible for surgery because I’ve been stable with chemotherapy for two years and seven months and have walked two miles every day. I still have obstacles to overcome before that happens, six more rounds of chemotherapy, a CT scan, a PET scan, and a post-chemotherapy blood test. But if the surgeon is satisfied with those results, I could have an exploratory laparoscopic surgery in mid-November. If that goes well, the surgeon will remove my primary tumor, perform a colon resection, remove my appendix and my lymph nodes in the pelvis and near my aorta. This procedure could help me live longer. That is my top priority: to be here as long as possible for my six children. My six-year-old daughter asked me, “Mommy, what will I look like when I’m 10?” I realized that I may not live to find out.
At church, I cried when I saw a 10-year-old girl who looked like my daughter. I don’t want to miss out on my children’s important milestones, and I am determined to live long enough to see them grow. In many ways, I feel healthier than ever. I exercise, go to therapy, volunteer at church, and have a balanced life that aligns with my values. I have learned a lot about taking care of my mental and physical health after my cancer diagnosis. Most importantly, I learned that it’s never too late for your health to be your top priority. This educational resource was prepared with the support of Merck. Are you a woman with real stories you’d like to share? Let us know. Our stories are authentic experiences from real women. HealthyWomen does not endorse the views, opinions, and experiences expressed in these stories and do not necessarily reflect the official policies or positions of HealthyWomen.
