Winter 2004 Newsletter: A MESSAGE FROM THE EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

On August 29, I was diagnosed with breast cancer, one of 200,000+ women in the United States who got the same news in 2003.

I’ve worked for the Cancer Research Foundation since 1985, and, in that time, I’ve talked with thousands of women who’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer. And I’ve been glad to be on my end of the conversation. Now I was on the other end. And I was shocked.

I wasn’t afraid. Perhaps that’s because of the great strides made by cancer researchers: the 5-year cure rate for localized breast cancer discovered early has risen to 97%.

But I was angry. My husband, Lloyd, and I had commented, several times recently, that this just might be the very best time in our lives. And now, this disease was going to interfere.

After I talked with several oncologists (cancer doctors) I know, I selected my oncologist, who would head my team of doctors. Then we cancelled our Thanksgiving vacation in London, where our oldest daughter and husband, and 3 of our grandchildren live.

Our calendar would revolve around cancer, and my treatment, until I was healthy again. My oncologist, and her nurse, and my surgeon, and her nurse, stressed to me that this was a time in my life when it was important for me to pamper myself – rest when I was tired, eat what I wanted when I wanted, and, generally to think positively and ask for help if I needed it. Not a bad prescription.

In mid-September, my surgeon performed a lumpectomy to remove the cancer; she also removed the diseased lymph nodes under my arm. I’d been in hospitals only to give birth to our two daughters, and I was anxious. I am happy to report that the experience was not unpleasant, and I was in the hospital one night only. Two weeks later, I was happy to be back at work

Chemotherapy would be next. I expected to lose my hair. I bought a wig, sometimes covered by health insurance if it’s labeled a cranial prosthesis; my wig was not covered by insurance. BUT - no haircuts, permanents and frostings until sometime late in 2004. And the hairpiece is truly ready-to-go hair.

For those of you who have not experienced chemotherapy, if you’ve read anything more than two or three years old, you probably have the misconception that the poor patient spends her life upchucking – or wishing she could. Chemotherapy is the introduction of powerful chemicals into your body, designed to kill particular cancer cells in a specific stage of the celllife. But the evolution of medicines that counter the horrid side-effects of chemotherapy allows most patients to lead a normal, or close to normal, life. I’ve been on chemotherapy since mid-October; my primary negative side-effect has been exhaustion, and my primary complaint is that many of my favorite foods taste like shredded newspapers. I never know if something is going to taste good until I taste it. It’s difficult to be the perfect guest!

The most significant risk factor for cancer is aging. As we age, we are susceptible to malignant transformations. Today, I am 63 years old. There is a growing number of people my age and older. Now that we’re living longer, the health problems associated with these added years are being addressed.

The future is very encouraging: According to Andrew C. von Eschenbach, M.D., Director of the National Cancer Institute (NCI), a time is coming when medical interventions will prevent and eliminate cancer in some people, and will control cancer in other people who will be living with cancer, instead of dying from cancer. Research is the key.

In our next newsletter, I’ll let you know about the rest of my cancer treatment. While the Cancer Research Foundation is not in the business of referring particular physicians or hospitals, I will be happy to share information you can use to find the best care for you.

We invite you to share your stories with our readers. If you have information that can help someone else, we’ll be happy to print it. Meanwhile, remember to do regular breast self- examination and have annual mammograms. They can save your life, just as they’ll save mine.

Sharon Swanson