Cancer Survivor Stories: Post them here

[undeterred]

OK, its about my dog, but its a great story.

In September 99 my dog developed a lump on his paw. My vet told me it was probably bone cancer and the dog would die in around 6 weeks. I went to a dog oncologist and spent $600 to have a biopsy and be told roughly the same thing.

Fortunately I lived next door to a scientist/animal lover. He asked to look at the reports and he told me he thought they were just guessing on the pathology. He told me to go to a Veterinary School to get better care, so I did.

It turned out that the diagnosis was wrong! It was not bone cancer, but a soft tissue tumor called a fibrosarcoma. During my second visit there were 5 veterinary oncologists in the room and they offered me several options, some of them expensive. (I was unemployed at the time).

I chose to have my dog in a research study which involved injecting the tumor every week for 12 weeks. It was sponsored by a pharmaceutical company, so much of the cost was covered. At the end of the treatment my dog had a surgical biopsy, and there were no more cancer cells. He was cured with a biological treatment alone!

There were follow up appointments for 2.5 years and the cancer never recurred. The treatment involved injecting canine interleukin-2 to stimulate his immune system to produce T cells that would attack the cancer.

I found out that this treatment is now used in human patients for kidney cell cancer and AIDS. I'm glad he survived, but I'm also really proud of his contribution to medical research. I love telling his "story".

My dog is snoring on the couch as I write this. He's almost 13.

[Boomer]

1. It's hard to beat a dog story

So I'll just note that I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's in 1984 and spent my 30th birthday awaiting surgery. I then underwent localised radiation treatment, and twenty years later I'm doing just fine.

Because of the radiation treatment, I'm at slightly higher risk for cancer of another kind and my thyroid gland was burned out. But it was more than a fair trade for the two decades that followed, and I've got my fingers crossed that I'll be good for at least one or two more!

Upside to the whole experience is that I never take my life for granted. In an earlier age, I would not have made it to age 50.

[MissB]

2. Not mine

My now-75-year-old dad had stomach cancer back in his 30's. He wasn't expected to live, but he survived, and biologically-fathered two children. He had some pretty serious skin cancer a few years ago, and was diagnosed with prostate cancer recently.

But he's still going strong.

[Valerie5555]

3. 3 kitties I had so far managed to AVOID the clutches of the dreaded

, :scared:y FELINE LEUKEMIA disease, and in the lifetime of 1 of those cats, the feleuk vaccine wasn't even available until at least 1985.


2 of those cats lived to be 17 and 15 respectively and my current kitty is now nearly 2.


On edit the 1 calico pussycat I had, who lived to be 17, went to the Rainbow Bridge from feline hyperthyroid syndrome /CRF and the other black dsh kitty who lived to be 15, had to be put down due to CRF.

[CC]

4. My hub was diagnosed

with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma the first time in 1994 and went through chemo (cytoxin, vincrystine etc.) Stayed away until 1998 when he was treated with a different chemo combo. He ended up with it again in 2001 when he was treated with Rituxan {a monoclonal antibody therapy). So far he is still all clear. His Doc. said he does not consider his cancer a terminal disease but more a chronic disease. The more time a doc can buy you the better chance something new that will help could come along. Research is a good thing.

Right now we have a ferret going through chemo for an aggressive Lymphocarcinoma. He is on Lomustine (CCNU). The vet has had success with it on other ferrets. He seems to be doing better but it is early yet.

The first thing the hubs doctor told us is that cancer is not a death sentence, the second thing that a positive attitude was 50% of any cure.

[AlienGirl]

5. I'm in my third year of remission

At 28, I was diagnosed with squamous cell carcinoma of the tongue. At the time, I was a married, stay-at-home mother of two.

I went through surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. The radiation turned the inside of my mouth into a raw wound; during the worst of it, drinking water was difficult and sipping the canned shakes I survived on was torturous. I lost my senses of taste and smell, and the swelling in my ears made me nearly deaf. I lost my voice, to the point that when I called my Mom to tell her my husband had left me and ask to come home to recover, I could barely whisper.

It took a few months of healing before I was able to eat again. My taste slowly came back, though changed--I am no longer able to eat the spicy foods I loved before, and I like sweets a whole lot more now. I slowly regained my weight...at around 95 lbs, my periods started up again and I broke out in acne and went through what was almost a mini-puberty. Living with my parents again brought me to an appreciation of them that I hadn't had before: I got to see just how devoted they were to caring for me, from the perspective not of a selfish child, but an aware adult.

Eventually I was well. I moved out. I moved on.

Now I am 32. I have a job and an internship. I'm in a new relationship with a man who believes in honor and loyalty (DU's own everythingsxen!). And I graduate from college on June 10.

There is life after cancer.

Tucker

[housewolf]

6. Way back in 1976 - 1977

I was diagnosed with something they almost never saw in young women - I was 26 at the time and had a primary cancer site at the base of my tongue and metastisized into the glands in my neck. It was something they really only saw in men over 60 who had smoked 3 packs a day for 40 yrs and who drank a pint a day for the same period of time. They never figured out why I got it.

I had a lot of radiation and surgery to remove the muscle and glands in my neck but here I am, almost 30 years later, doing fine.

I also did a lot of spritual/emotional work, visualization and meditation, and I KNOW that it had a positive effect.



I love hearing the story of your dog, what a wonderful opportunity!

[Viva_La_Revolution]

7. Me too!

I had the "Randi Rhodes" surgery last year...

I was very lucky,I had insurance (for the first time in 10 years!) to cover most of it, but I still owe the hospital $2,000.

Of course, it would have been caught years ago if I had insurance, and the first surgery would have gotten it all. Unfortunately it had "progressed". :eyes:
I still say I'm lucky though, no chemo or radiation nec.

Ladies - DON'T SKIP YOUR PAP SMEARS!!

take it from someone who's been there.

[Valerie5555]

8. A certain former Iran captive I knew of had apparently kicked prostatic

cancer's butt and it appeared his "medical details" were in good hands in a certain Naval hospital in his neck of the woods or Bethesda, MD. Ditto for "Shadow President" John Kerry.

[tedoll78]

9. It was april of 1999.

I'd began to notice some pain coming from my groin on the left side. It was deep, consistent, and dull. I also noticed that my left testicle was looking a bit bigger.

A visit to the student health services on campus (University of Mississippi) yielded nothing. The doc there recommended that I go to a urologist off-campus. So I set an appointment and went two days later. Meanwhile, the pain was getting to the point where it was becoming difficult to walk.

The urologist appointment was a bust. Here was this small-town doc who was older than dirt who took one look at me and told me that I had a scrotal infection. He took some urine, scribbled some prescriptions for antibiotics and antiinflammatories, and sent me on my merry way.

I'd suspected that it was testicular cancer, having spent a few restless, lonely nights alone reading about it online, comparing my symptoms, etc. But I decided to give the pills a shot. One week later, with my nipples now going crazy because of hormones (chafing against my t-shirt from simple walking motion), I found another urologist in the yellow pages and decided to go to him.

I went and told him my tale. He took one look at me, asked about my family history (chock-full of cancer.. all types, all ages..), and told me to get my ass home to New Orleans ASAP, where my parents' insurance would cover my care.

48 hours later, I had packed my life into my car and told my friends where I was going. At this point I was failing in chemical engineering school (BOOORING!), so there was no point in telling my teachers.. I'd change majors to PolySci when I got back anyway. So I made the drive to New Orleans.

My arrival home surprised my parents. They thought I was in Oxford studying for finals. I sat them down and told them what I and the doc thought was going on. My mom, who'd lost both of her parents by the time she was 21, was a basket case. My dad, for the first time in my life, cried like a baby in front of me. Looking back, I can't believe it, but I was the strong one. I was the one telling them not to cry, that I had likely caught it early, that everything would turn-out fine. That was a weird day.

One day later, I had my appointment with the endocrinologist, who had blood taken and an ultrasound ordered. The ultrasound was freaky. Ultrasound goo applied to my scrotum by this strange woman? Ewwww.. But it worked in confirming everything. The blood tests did as well - my protein levels were sky-high - consistent with cancer. So the surgery date was set.

I hardly remember anything from the surgery. I do remember choosing to have an epidural (numbed from the waist down) rather than general anesthetic. That left the upper half of me awake for the surgery. Since this was the first time I'd tried any hard drugs, I was loopy as all hell going into the operating room. I was drunkenly "singing" a Mardi Gras song as the nurses wheeled me into the OR - and I could tell that they were really entertained by it, lol.. I also remember seeing the blue curtain in front of my face so that I couldn't see the operation. There was a radio in the OR that I sang-along with - until the surgeon got tired of hearing me sing. The last thing I remember was the doc asking the anesthesiologist to knock me out.. :P

Going home after the surgery was weird. I was on demerol - what a drug! When I got home, I went straight to bed to recover. My parents' dog, Holly - a small mini dachshaund - was trying to climb into bed with me, jumping and jumping at the side of the bed. It was then that I had the best hallucination of my life - Holly blowing a red latex balloon from her butt and then doing a backflip in celebration of her "achievement." She was so proud of that balloon! :)

After recovering from that surgery, the doctor recommended one more surgery - this one much more serious - a retroperitoneal lymph node dissection. They'd cut me from sternum to just below my umbilicus and remove some lymph nodes to see if the cancer had reached there. I agreed, wanting to take no chances. So it was back under the knife again.

This surgery was no fun compared to the last one. I was in the hospital for a week. It hurt to laugh. Sitting up in bed hurt. The smell of any food made me want to vomit. I lost a ton of weight that week. And I didn't sleep well at all; the nurses kept coming in to take my vitals. Hmph.

I don't remember much else of that hospital stay. But I do remember reacting to the morphine. At first, I just twitched a bit. But then the twitching got worse, and my body seemed to want to curl into a ball. I asked my mom to go get the nurse. She told me to wait a bit, to calm down. I then yelled at her: "GO GET THE NURSE! NOW!" She ran off and got the nurse, who gave me some sort of relaxant. It was a pretty nasty reaction. They got me off of that crap right away, switching to demerol. When I woke-up, my parents and aunt and uncle were there. The first thing I remembered was yelling at my mom. With this, I began to bawl like a baby.. "I.. yelled.. at.. my.. momma!" They just laughed at me, but I really did feel bad for yelling at her.

The lymph nodes came out clean. The following blood tests did too. So did the CT scan after that. I spent the rest of the summer with my parents in New Orleans, with the doctor's advice that I get periodic blood tests and CT scans.. surveillance, he called it.

The whole episode taught my family a lesson: to take care of themselves. With our family's history of cancer being quite voluminous, I had always hounded them to eat better and exercise. What irony that I would be the one to get the Big C! But after this, Mom and Dad began to take my advice to heart. They eat a LOT better now, and they exercise 6 days of the week. If this is what I get from the whole ordeal, it was a damn good trade.. I want my parents around and healthy for as long as possible.

It was probably one of the better summers of my life. It was my first extended time home from college in a while. I realized how much I miss and love my parents. I also realized that it was time to change majors. And, funny thing, this was also my introduction to diagnostic medical imaging. Now, five years later, I'm in school again, about to finish a program in radiography.

That is, if I can get this studying done. Wow, have I typed a lot! Hope you enjoyed:D

[undeterred]

14. it is a tough way to learn a lesson (taking care of ourselves)

thanks for sharing this story and I'm glad you got through it!

[proud patriot]

10. My Grandmother

I believe it was breast cancer , she's very private
about it . She's in her 80's now but it was 20 years
ago when she had her surgery . Great lady .

[undeterred]

16. They didn't used to say the word "cancer"

I had an aunt who died of what was probably stomach cancer in the 1960s and nobody ever said the word. Her teenage sons did not know she was dying.

In 1975 I was a nursing assistant and took care of a young man with AML(acute myelogenous leukemia)- he was 19 and was not told his diagnosis. It was very hard to take care of him knowing that he had not been told because they did not think he would have time to accept it.

Things changed shortly after that. Patients finally got "rights" and doctors gave more information. There are now so many support organizations for cancer patients, its practically an industry. The old days must have been very hard.

[undeterred]

11. all I can say is wow DUers great stories!

:cry: :grouphug: :cry:

[trackfan]

12. I had Hodgkins Disease in 1981

and had 9 months of chemotherapy. Grueling, but effective.

[WillowTree]

13. One morning in late 1963...

....my Mom looked down in the shower and noticed that her left thigh looked bigger than her right. Not the normal kind of variance, but bigger. We had just moved to Riverside, CA a couple of months before and hadn't really established ourselves with any doctors there yet, but she saw someone who did a work-up and didn't like what he was finding and referred her to a surgeon. She was forty-seven years old.

It turned out that she had developed a very rare form of osteosarcoma which was growing off of the bone and, because it was trapped under the large, strong muscles of the upper leg, had grown in spiral fashion around and around the femur. The surgery to remove this specific kind of tumor had, at that time, only been performed successfully once before and you'd have difficulty convincing me that it was just raw luck that she was in the exact place at that time to be under the care of the surgeon who had done it.

They literally had to dissect her leg to get it out and, for reasons which defy my understanding, when they asked my Dad afterward if he wanted to see the tumor, he said yes. He said that what he saw was the size of a small watermelon. She endured horrible levels of radiation therapy for months afterward and despite all that, the doctors told her that there were no guarantees and that she should put her affairs in order because the chances were good that she wouldn't see my sister and I grow up.

They didn't know my Mom.

Eventually one day her doctor threw her out of his office (but lovingly) telling her that he had sick people to take care of.

Years later she developed another tumor in the same leg that was removed at Mayo, but it turned out to be pre-malignant. A number of years after that, she fell on some ice and broke her left hip. It healed, but because of the kind of radiation that they were giving back in the mid-sixties, the bone was too weak to hold the screws that secured the plate they'd put in and they loosened, causing stress on the bone which eventually fractured it. We were again blessed to have access to an exceptionally talented orthopaedist who literally had to invent a procedure to repair the leg again, but he did.

And after all of that, she healed to the point of full use of that leg and was president of her walking club when, just before her seventy-eighth birthday, she was diagnosed with stomach cancer which had already metastasized to her liver and bones. She died five months later to the day.

My Mother was an extraordinary woman of extraordinary faith and spirit and her doctors were literally the Hands of God.

[Boomer]

15. Your story jogged my memory

>> ....my Mom looked down in the shower and noticed that her left thigh looked bigger than her right.<<

On one of my annual trips home, my mother took one look at me and asked why one side of my neck was swollen. Huh? I hadn't noticed, my partner hadn't noticed, but yes, one side of my neck was enlarged. No pain, not even soreness, so I didn't think it could be that serious. In fact, I suspected it was an infection of some kind from a recent cat scratch on my chin (one of the joys of pet ownership).

But a needle biopsy revealed that I had Hodgkin's and surgery removed some (but not all) of a massive tumor that had grown from a lymph node in my neck down into my chest.

If not for my mother's keen eye, it could have been months, maybe even years, before I developed any symptoms that would have drawn my attention. Instead I was treated while still in the earliest stages of the diseases and escaped the need for chemo.

A few years later, on yet another trip home, my mother immediately noted that my eyes seemed to be bulging slightly. Medical tests eventually found that I was suffering thyroid failure (due to the earlier radiation therapy for Hodgkins) that had not been caught by my regular regimen of blood tests that were supposedly tracking thyroid function.

God bless my mother.

[Contrary1]

17. I was diagnosed in 1997

with stage 2 breast cancer. (I refuse to dignify the disease with caps) I found the lump myself 6 months after an "all clear" mammogram. Turned out that the tumor was visible on that mammogram. The technician had circled it, drawn an arrow to it, and had even drawn a big question mark on the film. For whatever reason, it was never written up.

By the time it was biopsied, it had already spread too far to save the breast. I had a modified radical mastectomy. I followed that up with 4 rounds of chemo (Adriamycin/Cytoxin). After that was over, I started 5 years of Tamoxifen, and volunteered for a dosage study
on one of the anti-angiogenesis cancer drugs. That lasted one year.
The drug will most likely never hit the market as it generated severe cases of bursitis in many of the trial participants. Also, they could
not pinpoint a tolerable dose that could be used by all. Too bad, as it had showed real promise in the treatment of several forms of cancer.

In 2000, I started finding lumps in the other breast. After serious thought and talking with my surgeon, I opted for a prophylactic mastectomy on the remaining breast. Turned out to be the right thing to do, as the pathology reports showed the presence of what they call "pre-cancer".

I remember one cold winter night, (after I had lost my hair) that I was having a late night pity party for myself. I was channel surfing, trying to take my mind off everything, when I stumbled upon one of my all-time favorite movies, Shawshank Redemption. One of the lines from that movie slapped me upside my head, and became my battle cry. I still use it today, when I talk to other people with cancer.

"Get busy living, or get busy dying."

You are your best advocate in your own health care. Ask questions, research, ask to see scans, xrays, and reports. Get second and third opinions if necessary, and do not ever forget...it is your body, not the doctor's, or anyone else's.

[undeterred]

18. thanks for sharing your story and that quote

you're awesome! :yourock:

One of my favorites:

"If you get up one more time than you fall, you will make it through"

[DavidDvorkin]

19. My wife - breast cancer

It's been six years, and everything's okay so far. For her, the key was not only early detection but also not being too conservative in treatment choice; she chose mastectomy over lumptectomy.

See http://www.dvorkin.com/brcan