My Anchor Holds

In December 2009, at the age of 45, I heard the words no one wants to hear, “You’ve got cancer.” 

Physically active and a happily married mother of two, I ate right and exercised religiously. I worked three part-time jobs, took care of my family, volunteered for worthy causes and taught Sunday school. And I almost never got sick. Before cancer, my pharmacist joked that the only prescriptions he filled for me were birth control pills or prenatal vitamins. 

Then colorectal cancer came knocking at my door.

The diagnosis was surprising because I didn’t fit the profile. Colorectal cancer is most common in people over age 50. Risk factors include things like a family history of colorectal cancer, diabetes and eating a diet high in fat and cholesterol and low in fiber. People are at increased risk if they drink alcohol, smoke, don't get enough exercise or are overweight. 

None of those categories described me, my history or my lifestyle. Nevertheless, I had Stage IV cancer – the most advanced and deadly form of the disease. According to the American Cancer Society, only about 6 percent of people diagnosed with Stage IV colorectal cancer survive five years or more.

The cancer started in my colon, spread to my liver and later moved to my lungs. To date, I’ve undergone rigorous chemotherapy twice, a six-week session of chemo and radiation together and endured four major surgeries. I still have cancer in my right lung.

As I write this, almost five years after my initial diagnosis, doctors say it’s a miracle I’m still here. And it is. The bigger miracle, though, and the one that makes me want to shout my story from the mountaintops is how near God has been to me throughout my journey.

Before diving into my story, I’ll start by explaining that this book is a chronicle of my journey with cancer, covering more than four years, from diagnosis to restoration of health. Each step along the path begins with a journal entry and ends with my present-day reflections on that entry. 

As you follow my story, there are times when my quirky sense of humor and typically positive attitude make it fun and easy to read; there also are times when it is hard to believe that everything I endured could happen to one person. As I have left everything unvarnished, this book is sometimes happy, sometimes sad. My Anchor Holds captures a true picture of my heart at the time the words were written, and you will see how I learned and grew in the process.

The journal entries were originally published on CaringBridge, a website that serves as a platform for information sharing and support for those facing major health issues such as cancer, premature birth or serious injury. It works by allowing individuals to host a private site through which they share updates and information about their health status. Others then can read the posts and share their own words of encouragement, love and support. Each site is unique to the user, and there are many options available to personalize the look of the site. For mine, I chose the theme of “Hope.” This word, and all it embodies, defines my journey so well that I continue to use it as a life theme today.

A dear friend suggested I use CaringBridge just after my diagnosis. She said it would be a great way to keep people updated without having to spend a lot of time on the phone repeating the same story. I had no idea at the time that her simple suggestion would so dramatically impact my entire journey with cancer. 

Through my journal on CaringBridge, I’ve detailed my battle with this ugly disease. I have opened my heart, pulled back the curtain on my fight with cancer and made it possible for others to walk with me on a path that has at times been rocky and arduous and at others a mountaintop experience. This book is my invitation for you to journey with me, while I share the battle, the blessings and the lessons I’ve learned.

Friday, January 1, 2010, 6:31 p.m.

New Year's Day seems a fitting time to start the process of keeping a journal of my battle against cancer. 

As I launch into a new year and this journal, it is still a bit surreal to think that I have a disease that could kill me. Or that, even if I do survive (which I believe I will), 2010 will likely be the hardest year of my life. I’ve always been the healthy person who rarely even catches a cold – the one who prays for others that are sick. It will be tough to be on this side of the fence. This is where I find myself, however, so I will try to make the best of it.

Starting this journal is also daunting, because I really don't like talking about myself, and I hate talking about health problems. However, I hope that doing so will not only be therapeutic for me but also helpful for others. Knowing that it will keep friends and family informed of my progress and help them better pray for me is reason enough to take on the task.

As I write this, I'm not feeling too bad. I had a pain pill about an hour ago, so I'm good to go for a little while. Here's a brief update:

I was diagnosed with colorectal cancer in mid-December, when a colonoscopy revealed a tumor that my gastroenterologist, Dr. Meade Edmunds, described as “huge.” I could tell that it must be serious when he had me wait in his office while he called to make an appointment with an oncologist. Clearly, there was no time to waste. 

My oncologist, Dr. Richard Antonucci, also did an amazing job of getting the treatment process underway as quickly as possible. I had a PET scan on Monday and a chemo port implanted on Wednesday. The port is really cool. They'll hook it up to a chemo pump that attaches to my belt, and I'm on my way. No sitting for hours, which is a good thing for me. I'd much rather be on the go.

Originally, my treatment plan was as follows:

1. Radiation;

2. Chemotherapy;

3. Surgery; and

4. More chemotherapy.

I heard yesterday that the PET scan showed "something" in my liver. Now, I go for a CT scan on Wednesday, January 6. After that, I'll see my doctor and we'll start chemotherapy. I really don't mind the change of plans; I'm just ready to start treatment. 

Stay tuned ...