Fab Feb Preppy Day 4

SC has a special story today about ovarian cancer. I'm off to Creeds with Pippa for lunch and then my day at Lilly Pulitzer has finally arrived.

Please meet Sarah!

 

She has a pink and green preppy car. I've never seen her not smiling or welcoming. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. To imagine her any other way or worse sick is not a pleasant thought. SC wanted to help, so I asked her some questions:

Tell me your story Sarah, how did you learn you had cancer?

I had two little boys, 3 ½ and 18 months, and I was tired. Really tired. Nap-every-afternoon-or-I-was-a-raging-lunatic tired. I thought it was just the kids, moving into a new house, busy life that was the problem. I was also having some pelvic pain with…um, marital relations, but that seemed to coincide with ovulation, so I thought maybe it was a functional cyst. The bloating was probably due to my exuberant consumption habits (birthday parties, Easter dinner/candy, etc.). There were logical conclusions for all of my (classic ovarian cancer) symptoms, and they kept me from seeing the overall pattern.

My OB/Gyn lives around the corner from me, and walks her dog past my house every day. One morning she stopped to chat with my husband and he told her about my pelvic symptoms. She said I should make an appointment for an ultrasound and an exam. The ultrasound was inconclusive, but the doctor and her NP were both able to feel the growth on my left ovary, both internally and externally (!). She suggested that maybe it was a cyst, and we scheduled a laparoscopic procedure to remove it. The chance of it being cancerous seemed so remote as to be a joke, and I treated it as such.

The blood test for ovarian cancer, called a CA-125, showed that I had elevated antigen levels, but with the normal ranging from 12-35, my level was at 133 – not a shocking number, as most cancerous patients have readings in the thousands. There are so many false positives for this test: menstruation, ovulation, endometriosis, pregnancy… it could have been not-cancer. However, I asked my parents to cancel their planned trip to the canals of France so they could be at my house for my surgery… just in case.

The operation took six hours – clearly not a simple cyst. The tumors had spread all around my abdomen, including on my diaphragm and colon. Chemo followed the surgery, and after five months I was in remission. I had nine months of “real life” before my first recurrence. (Once cancer has spread outside the ovaries, recurrence after remission is practically guaranteed.) I’m on recurrence number two now, and fighting successfully.

What is something most people don't know about living with cancer? Treatments, healing and all things symptom?

For me, living my life as normally as possible is job #1 – keeping my boys on an even keel and maintaining a stable family life is my raison d’être. Baldness was the tell-tale that I wasn’t as healthy as I should be, so I made sure that my wig was FABULOUS, my make-up done, and my outfit cute, and most people couldn’t tell that I was sick at all. I think most women, while they’re glad of help when they need it, are used to taking care of others and want to make sure that everyone’s fine, including themselves. Offer to help a cancer patient, weed her flowerbed, bring her dinner, but understand if she wants to fold her own laundry – it’s a self-reliance thing, and a self-esteem booster that you’re still who you were before you got sick.

Also, as we go through treatment, there are some days that we feel horrible, and want to lie in bed, and some days when we feel nearly human and want to go out! If you call a friend and she says she doesn’t want to see you, try again a week later – she may be dying to dress up and go out to lunch and feel normal.

If you could tell women of the world what to do about getting tested/treated or a must-not-ignore warning sign what would it be?

Listen to your body. If something doesn’t feel right, chances are you‘ll know before your doctor will. Don’t explain away symptoms or tell yourself that you’ll wait until your next scheduled checkup to ask your doctor what’s going on. Ovarian cancer is much more survivable if it’s caught in the early stages. Also, if you see one doctor and you don’t feel that you’re getting the serious attention you deserve, or the doctor tells you you’re stressed out and prescribes an antacid and a sleeping aid and sends you on your way, get a second opinion. Get a third opinion. Don’t stop asking questions until you’re satisfied with the answer. I was young, fit, healthy and active, and with no family history of cancer of any kind. It can happen to anyone.

Did I leave anything out that should be covered?

See below.

How can people make a difference?

It’s not politically correct to talk about, but most cancer patients, even some breast cancer patients, are sick of October and pink ribbons. While breast cancer affects an enormous number of women and men each year, it is, for the majority of patients, survivable, and all the focus on pink detracts from the attention, press, donations and research funding that are desperately needed for ALL forms of cancer, especially those that are much more deadly: lung, pancreatic, ovarian, leukemia, etc. Please consider donating to a number of cancer causes, or to a general cancer-research facility that will allocate the funds across many diseases.

Also, when you buy a product that’s painted pink, or teal, or yellow, and marketed as donating a portion of the profits/proceeds to cancer research, check and find out what amount of money is actually being donated. Many products donate very little actual money to charity, while reaping huge financial benefits by selling pink or teal products that appeal to buyers’ charitable sensibilities. Better to buy a good product and make the donation yourself.

Thank you Sarah! We love you and Stay Strong.

xoxo


SC