The UC Davis Comprehensive Cancer Center will host a Tweet chat to discuss the latest approaches to lung cancer treatment on Nov. 27 at 1 p.m. in recognition of Lung Cancer Awareness Month. Twitter users are invited to log in and join the conversation about new medical, surgical and radiation oncology approaches to the disease from cancer center experts. Read More
Tomma Hargraves was first diagnosed with Stage III B Non-small cell lung cancer in November of 2006. After undergoing an aggressive clinical trial at the NC Cancer Hospital in Chapel Hill, she was in remission for 3 years. At that time, she had a recurrence with lymph node involvement and a brain lesion. Again, treatment was successful and she recently celebrated her 6th year of survivorship.
Ms. Hargraves has been active in lung cancer advocacy for nearly 6 years, and currently serves on the Board of Directors of the North Carolina Lung Cancer Partnership and on advisory boards for Access TLC and the Carolina Well program. She is an active participant in the Free to Breathe 5K event as well as the Free to Breathe golf tournament.
Tomma Hargraves is the Lead Speech-Language Pathologist for the Wake County Public School System in Raleigh, North Carolina. She received her Bachelor’s Degree from the University of Washington and her Master’s from Southern Connecticut State University.
Ms. Hargraves has one son who is an Emergency Medicine physician at Piedmont Hospital in Atlanta, Georgia, and is married to “Santa” Bob Hargraves. They live in Raleigh with Finley the Wonder Dog. Respond and Donate Today as Team Draft’s National Campaign is Changing the Face of Lung Cancer !
Eugene Polk, Jr. (Rickey) , the oldest child of eight of Chris’s grandmother , Lottie Harden Polk, was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer in August 2001 and died 9 months later, missing the birth of his first grandchild by four months.
Rickey was a Vietnam War veteran who served as a registered nuclear medicine technician in Germany and stateside at Walter Reed Army Hospital. Upon his discharge from the Army, he continued his training, eventually serving as the Director of Nuclear Medicine at Menorah Medical Center in Overland Park, Kansas.
For Rickey By- Pat (Polk) Sims
As at birth
The same at death
You struggle for life giving breath.
I watch your chest rise—but it doesn’t fall
For what seems like minutes, and I want to call
A doctor a nurse anyone who can make you breathe
And then… the gentle sound of exhaled air…you’re still here,
Though no one knows for how long.
This journey started nine months ago and at that time
We weren’t aware that it was the dawn of a life change,
The birth of an unwelcome addition to the family
That would trigger a fight filled with minor successes
Sandwiched between major setbacks, and intrusive thoughts of
“This might be our last Christmas…
You’ll never see your grandchildren…
How will Mama survive your death?”
You tried to shelter us from the truth,
Never knowing that we knew what you were up against and
Wanted to love you and believe with you
That you would beat this adversary that didn’t fight fair,
That you would be the one to survive and that
Your treatment would set a precedent that could save lives.
We became well versed in platins and T-cell counts and
Potential chemical trials and reflexology.
When you were no longer able to walk
We learned how to safely transfer you to and from your bed–
And I remember apologizing when for the first time I, the little sister,
Helped you, the big brother use the restroom
And how we rejoiced when the session ended with a big success—
You hated to admit it but the prune juice worked and
We laughed so hard we cried as we ceremoniously flushed away the “eel”!
And now it’s come to this, watching your chest rise and fall
And not wanting to admit that a ventilator
Is doing the work that you can no longer do
And that now your kidneys are shutting down
And that you are still here only by the grace of God and the power of your will.
So, I kiss you and sing to you and tell you it’s okay to stop fighting and to leave us…
You struggle for life giving breath
As at birth
And so at death.
My name is Patty Kuzara. I am a wife and mother, a friend, a sister, an aunt, a niece and I just happen to have Stage IV Lung Cancer. But I am so much more than that:
Patty Kuzara is Tackling Lung Cancer! from TEAM DRAFT on Vimeo.
A year ago I was watching football as I normally do on Sunday afternoons. During the half time show a mention was made about the Buffalo Bills doing an illumination of Niagara Falls in pink for breast cancer. I got thinking about all the press and publicity that breast cancer gets and I got a little jealous and a lot motivated.
Hey if the Buffalo Bills can do this for breast cancer, why can’t I, along with my Make Some Noise for Lung Cancer Awareness do this for LUNG CANCER. Never one to back away from a decent challenge I set out to make this happen.
I had no idea who to call and no idea how this would ever come to be but my mind was made up and
my heart was set on this. So I began composing my thoughts and writing my pitch and compiling Lung
Cancer facts and information to back up the intense need for raising awareness.
I sent my requests off and actually never dared to dream I would ever hear anything back. I really
figured that this would be filed in that infamous circular file, or lost in transit between offices etc. I had
actually moved on and almost forgotten about the request completely!
Early in October I got “THE CALL”. When I heard the gentleman on the other end telling me he was
calling in regard to my request to illuminate the Falls in white for lung cancer I was so afraid he was
going to tell me it was not possible. Much to my amazement he told me just the opposite. I wish I had
words to describe the feeling of sheer amazement that came over me! Next we needed a date. I was
in the car, I had no calendar with me and was trying to envision the month ahead. Finally we decided on
November 16. The 16th happened to be a Wednesday that year, mid week. It was also, coincidentally
mid month exactly if you looked at the calendar! It felt perfect to me and so the date was set!
I had just over ONE month to get the details in place, get the word out about this event, contact press
and get some publicity! I came home and got to work. Facebook is a hugely useful social media outlet
for things like this and I set up an Event page and began to post about it on my personal page as well
as the Make Some Noise for Lung Cancer Awareness page. Soon the newsfeed was full of people and
organizations sharing the information and details of the event. I have to say, being one person behind
the MSN4LC page as well as the only person behind this monumental event it was overwhelming~!
November 16, 2011. I was at the falls, on the American Side. I can tell you that there is not a feeling in
the world that compares to seeing those beautiful Falls lit up in ANY colors, but when those lights went
to pure white? Simply Breathtaking.
Again this year, November 16, 2012, from 8-8:15pm and again from 9-9:15pm the Falls will again be lit
in pure white light to raise awareness for Lung Cancer. This is the second annual Illuminate the Falls for
Lung Cancer Awareness made possible by Make Some Noise for Lung Cancer Awareness.
Donate Today as Team Draft’s leads a National Campaign to Changing the Face of Lung Cancer
He said, ‘Keep a steady pace and focus on your breathing,’ the night before the Peachtree Road Race. I’d always wanted to run it, and this was my first time. I called him the night before because I was so excited. Before we hung up, he told me to run the long stretches and walk up the steep hills. My father was a natural leader and problem solver, so he always offered the advice I needed – even if I didn’t ask.
Atlanta’s a pretty hilly city and the 10K definitely contained a few. I’ve driven down that strip of Peachtree Street many times, but I had never noticed. During the run, I found his advice helpful and finished in less than 66 minutes which was my target time. (Secret’s out…I’m a pretty slow runner ;).)
After the run, I went to visit him and he surprised me by cooking a Fourth of July dinner for us. My mother usually cooked, but she was in Maryland visiting family with my older sister, Nikki, and younger brother, AJ. The food was great and I enjoyed spending that summer holiday with him. I have countless memories of my father, but this one epitomizes his role in my life: he gave direction, warned me of challenges and offered solutions, and was always present to celebrate my accomplishments.
This was in 2007 around the time when my memories became a bit fuzzy.
Two months later, things were different. At the time, I couldn’t fully articulate how they’d changed. My father wasn’t playing tennis on the weekends nor working out to keep fit anymore. He stopped working on the home improvement projects around the house that he’d just recently begun. He was extremely tired most of the time. He wasn’t used to being so inactive and we weren’t accustomed to seeing him ill.
He began visiting a stream of doctors. One doctor discovered he was anemic and thought a prescription would fix things. A colonoscopy revealed polyps they later found weren’t cancerous. This just the beginning, we were on a mission to solve this problem and collecting any clues we could pick up along the way.
It was a fall filled with tests.
By November, my father was tired of doctors and tests. He was over six feet tall and typically weighed about 220lbs, but his weight was steadily declining. His complexion was a beautiful brown tone, one I used to try to sun bathe to achieve, but it turned a yellowish tint. None of us knew what to do. My mother, siblings and I were used to him giving us the next directive, but he seemed out of ideas, too.
One day in December, we went to the emergency room. After another series of tests, we learned that my father had lung cancer. His doctor showed us the x-ray of the tumor on his left lung and explained how it couldn’t be removed because of it’s proximity to the arteries the lung shared with his heart. We listened to the treatment options and went from there.
It was a cold start to a long winter.
My father was a smoker for years and his family has a history of lung disease. During his series of tests, I remember the strength of his lungs being tested with an apparatus that you blow into, but this x-ray was the first test to reveal the cancer. We all wondered why the prior testing didn’t solve this for us, but time was moving too quickly to worry about the past or harp on what ifs.
I wanted to learn about lung cancer so I could help more. Typically, the more I educate myself on something, the more I understand. With lung cancer, it was the opposite. The statistics and facts surrounding the disease in 2007 left me shocked and stunned. I learned that it’s America’s leading cancer killer, yet it’s highly underfunded. It kills more women than breast cancer and more men than prostate cancer; I never would have guessed this. In most cases, lung cancer is diagnosed too late so those affected have a low survival rate.
Initially, it didn’t make sense, but, when you really think about it, it actually does. If lung cancer kills more Americans than any other cancer and gets a small fraction of national cancer research funds, then the medical community will not be equipped with the tools needed to early diagnose the disease. If awareness is low, then people won’t be cognizant of what they’re up against – my family definitely wasn’t. Without the proper research to support treatment options and finding a cure, patients with aggressive cases won’t be likely to succeed.
The fall may have been fuzzy, but winter was pretty clear. My memories were clear, too. My father maintained his role as the source of strength for my family and fought a tough battle. He died a couple of weeks before spring and what would have been his 53rd birthday.
Lung cancer kills, but loss doesn’t have to be everyone’s story.
I wanted to find a way to honor my father’s memory, but I also wanted to find a way to help other families affected by this disease. It was difficult to navigate my way into the lung cancer community; I couldn’t find any events or contacts in Atlanta. I didn’t know where to start. In April, I drove to Athens to run in a lung cancer 5K. I just wanted to feel like I was doing something. One of my best friends, Anita, went with me, and it was special that she wanted to help.
I called around to different lung cancer foundations, and I found the LUNGevity Foundation. Their executive director at the time, Beth, was a true gift; the type of person who radiates sincerity and hugs you with her voice. She listened to my story about my father, understood why I wanted to help the cause, and, most importantly, she told me how I could help them make a difference.
In 2009, I became active as a national lung cancer advocate and started Atlanta’s Breathe Deep 5K with the help of family and friends. Each year we meet the families in Atlanta who have been affected by this disease and we fight it together. My heart always goes out to the daughters I meet who have lost their fathers to lung cancer – I always feel like I know how they feel which makes me want to help even more.
This year will be our forth annual event. Nikki took over as the coordinator when I moved to London last year and has done a wonderful job. We have a small group, including AJ and Anita, working together to make sure the event is successful. This group has been volunteering their time every summer and fall to plan this event and increase lung cancer awareness. We always set a fundraising goal and target a specific number of participants, but we truly believe our job is done if families leave knowing they are not alone in this fight and others leave knowing at least one new fact about lung cancer.
Every family has their own unique story, so we all experience the natural flow of the circle of life differently. Unfortunately, loved ones will pass away. My hope is that lung cancer won’t be the reason.
I believe we can stop it together.
My name is Brian Kissinger. In February of 2010, I was unbelievably diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer. I had come down with a bad case of pneumonia, and rushed to the hospital. I was terrified because my son, Braydon was only a few months old, and I didn’t want to get him sick too. After suffering from a constant cough for over a year, that was diagnosed as asthma, I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital. The CT tech, and the doctor on call, chased me down as I was leaving. They wanted to run some more tests. The tech tried to calm me with “I’m sure it’s nothing,” but the look on the doctor’s face said otherwise. After a battery of tests and procedures, my doctor called and apologized, that he had to tell me, I had cancer. I had a rare type of Lung Cancer, and it’s stage IV. At 33, healthy and someone who had never smoked, I was so shocked, I didn’t even understand what he was telling me. I had to have him spell the type of cancer four times, I couldn’t even seem to write it down correctly.
That is where the Bonnie J. Addario Lung Cancer Foundation comes in. Through my family, I found another family, and a foundation who is entirely dedicated to fighting lung cancer. Bonnie, a eight year survivor, of lung cancer, works tirelessly to educate patients, and eradicate lung cancer. They have helped me confirm my choices of doctors, and even confirm treatments I have been prescribed.
Now, I am approaching three years, since my diagnosis, and I am feeling great. I have been in treatment for almost all of those three years. I am on my third line of treatment. I take a little pill two times a day. This pill was not even available as an option at the time of my diagnosis. Since then, this pill, Afinitor, has replaced my chemo infusions and kept me stable for a year and a half. All of this, with little to no side effects.
I have an entirely different mindset now. Cancer has changed every aspect of my life, not in a lot of ways you might think, though. I am very aware of how great my life is now. There are incredible things, happening everyday all around you. You just have to slow down and take a look for them.
I am doing everything I possibly can to beat lung cancer. So MY family and friends never have to fight this disease. So YOUR family and friends never have to fight this disease. It is important to me to fight to support other patients, in the fight of their lives. I fight in memory of some of the most incredible people I have ever met. I fight to make everyone very aware that ANYONE WHO BREATHES, can get lung cancer.
Brian Kissinger is Changing the Face of Lung Cancer! from TEAM DRAFT on Vimeo.
A life long non-smoker, Joan Gaeta was a devoted wife, teacher, and mother of five. Diagnosed with lung cancer in early 2004, she fought a three and a half year battle before succumbing in July of 2007.
Reflections on her LIFE from her children….
“OUR FAMLY IS A CIRCLE OF STRENGTH AND LOVE. WITH EVERY BIRTH AND EVERY MARRIAGE, THE CIRCLE GROWS. EVERY JOY SHARED ADDS MORE LOVE. EVERY CRISIS FACED TOGETHER MAKES THE CIRCLE STRONGER.” This passage has been on the wall in the Gaeta home for many years now; but it was never been as poignant as it was during and after mom’s battle with lung cancer.
The more full and complete a life is, the harder it is to memorialize. A rich life filled with love, commitment, and service to others is very difficult to honor with a few simple words. Mom’s life touched countless people in a many different and unexpected ways. Her life means different things to different people. The only common denominator in mom’s life … is love.
We, her children, will do our best now to properly honor our mother, Joan Marie Gaeta. Those who knew her know what a full, rich, and complete life our mother led. The diversity of people that were at her funeral Mass was telling – friends and family gathered together from across many different places and times in mom’s life. This fact alone speaks volumes. She wore many hats; had many roles. Daughter. Sister. Wife. Mother. We would like to share our view of mom and her life; perhaps allowing our memories to bring new perspective to yours.
“OUR FAMILY IS A CIRCLE OF STRENGTH AND LOVE.” Mom deeply understood love to mean sacrifice and selflessness. As Catholic Christians, we see this fact very clearly in the Cross. Mom lived it. Every mother knows of this love: Having children demands that you put their needs ahead of your own; constantly. Mom was no different. As the mother of five and a full-time homemaker, everything she did was geared toward the well-being of her husband and her children. For mom, it did not end there. She was only 32 years old when her in-laws moved into her home. 32 years old. For the next 17 years, she sacrificed a portion of her marriage with dad. For 17 years, she took on this added responsibility and stress…all for the love of others – her husband, of course; but also her in-laws, because they too were children of God and it simply was the right thing to do.
It wasn’t too long after her in-laws passed that mom took on the responsibility of caring for her own aging mother. Although Nanny was in an assisted living home, mom simply did not feel her mother was getting the quality of care that only family could provide. For six years, mom visited Nanny almost daily – dressing her, doing her laundry, and generally making sure that her mother’s last days were spent in dignity and with respect. This ended only after mom’s diagnosis with cancer.
Mom’s love to her family was much more than this and was evident in innumerable ways to us kids, in both small and large ways. I use the term “love to her family” rather than “love of her family” on purpose. To Mom, love is not just an emotion; it is not just a feeling. Love is an action. A verb. Mom’s love to her children and to her husband was always a verb. An action. Tangible actions, like waking her children with a gentle stroke on the arm accompanied by a beautiful voice singing of, “Rise and shine! Give God the glory, glory!” Or, she’d tuck you in tight and lay in bed with you for a bit, bemoaning the need to get up for school every bit as much as you were. Tangible actions, like every unsung thing she did around the house to keep it running smoothly. Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. Errands. (Cooking? Best Eggplant Parmesan in the world.) Things we didn’t notice at the time; but, if not done, would send our lives into chaos. Tangible actions like providing a stable and loving home. Tangible actions like her love to our father that led her to cook for over 50 people each and every year, hosting parties for Dad’s management team at GE Capital.
But much, if not most, of Mom’s love to her family came in intangible ways. Lasting examples of service to others and, quite simply, doing the right thing. Some examples:
- Serving the rural poor through her work with the Glenmary Home Missions.
- Tutoring unwed pregnant teenagers at the Nazareth House.
- Distributing clothes and food with St. Joseph’s community outreach program.
- Teaching English and basic monetary skills to a Laotian immigrant family.
- Taking people into our home, who had been rejected by others, when they needed a place to stay.
- And much more – volunteering her time and talent to anyone who needed it.
“DOING THE RIGHT THING.” This did not just apply to large acts of charity; but, in the little things that fill in the everyday moments we call “life”. We used to tease Mom about her strict adherence to “rules”. Mom never broke the rules or took short-cuts to anything. It was a running family joke. Mom never compromised her ethics or principles, regardless of the circumstances. This would sometimes annoy us, or cramp our style. But it was always “the right thing to do”, and we kids are all better people for it.
Mom’s selflessness did not stop with her family. Her constant acts of putting other people’s feelings above her own extended to everyone in her life – friends, neighbors, and strangers alike.
Those who knew her, knew very well of mom’s intense fear of animals – particularly dogs. They knew the drill: when mom would visit their house, they would have to be sure that the coast was clear of all “pooches.” It was almost a ritual. As our sister Tina would say, “Mommy was afraid of dogs the way most of us are afraid of sharks.” But even mom’s fear of dogs could be used to illustrate her intense concern for others. Many years ago, mom was outside talking with a neighbor while Tina was waiting for her in the car. As they were talking, our neighbor’s dog jumped up and bit mom on the leg. Not wanting to embarrass her neighbor, mom never flinched…and carried on with the conversation as if nothing happened. Our neighbor never knew that mom had been bitten. Only after my mother got into the car did she reveal the pain she was in. In fact, my mom’s leg was bleeding through her jeans. A trivial anecdote on the surface; but, it illustrates mom’s priorities: others first, herself second.
Mom’s selfless character was evident even in her dying days. She was always thinking of others and never wanted anyone to feel bad or embarrassed. Although constantly fatigued and in pain, she felt bad that others felt bad for her. When people would come to visit her, she always wanted them to feel comfortable – not to be afraid for her or too upset. It would take literally all the energy she could muster to “put on a happy face”. Somehow, she could always manage to turn the conversation away from herself and towards the other person. The visit would inevitably be about how they were doing and what was going on in their lives, not focusing on my mom’s condition. No sooner would they be out the door then mom would be fast asleep…exhausted. She truly gave the last bit of her energy in life making those around her feel better.
“EVERY JOY SHARED ADDS MORE LOVE.” Mom was a woman full of joy and passion. Mom was our “Dancing Queen”. She loved to dance and often wished she had been born with “dancers’ legs”. We have absolutely no doubt in our minds that she is dancing in Heaven right now. She never looked more alive than when she and dad were dancing together at a party….a family get-together…. spontaneously on the beach…out on the deck…..or just in the kitchen. (Although … that on-all-fours rendition from the musical Cat’s was a little over the top!) So great was their dancing that they often “stole the show” at weddings. When they threw our brother a high school graduation party, they astonished Rick’s friends by taking over the dance floor – something that is still talked about to this day. When driving in a car with the radio on, mom was known to break out into a rhythm and hand motions….much to our brother Joe’s embarrassment as this was often done while driving in carpool. When the family would make our yearly trip to the beach, you could spot the lead car in our caravan by all the grooving and hand-motions coming from my parents’ car.
Those who know the Gaetas know that, as Italians, we love our food….and we love our drink. Mom was no different. The best times at our house are when we are all home for a holiday or any other party. Music playing….the smell of good food cooking….and Mom enjoying the perfect Martini. No one enjoyed a Martini like mom. In fact, it was very important that the cooking was complete – or at least that one of her daughters was on hand to help – before she indulged. Our sister Theresa will tell you that this is how she learned to cook like mom. Cooking is important, but enjoying a Martini and dancing? Now that is the stuff of life. “Mom’s got her Martini?….Is the food done yet?”
But, as much as Mom was passionate about dancing, cooking, or Martinis – nothing topped the passion of the love affair my parents shared for over 50 years. They were truly “one”. It is easy to speak in lofty terms about the depth of Mom and Dad’s love; their teamwork, their incredibly deep and lasting bond. We could write volumes about the example they set for us children and how their life together was built on something more. But, a simple anecdote best shows the passion that never left them. Even with five kids and the drudgery of everyday life, it was never unusual to see my parents…well…making out in the kitchen. They were not bashful about displaying their love in front of their kids – or anybody else who happened to be present. One day, when our brother Joe was five or six years old, he was leading a friend through the kitchen up to his room as they passed my parents in a deep and passionate kiss. Noticing the look of shock on his friend’s face, Joe dismissed it, saying, “Oh, don’t mind them…they’re married.”
“EVERY CRISIS FACED TOGETHER MAKES THE CIRCLE STRONGER.” Perhaps mom’s most significant gift of love to her husband and children was given to us over these past three and a half years. Little by little, day by day, as this disease slowly overtook her, she could no longer care for others the way she used to. We now had to care for her. For nearly 50 years she gave. Cooking, cleaning, laundry and doing all the things that go unsung. How she hated to not be able to do such things for herself and for dad any longer. It wasn’t until mom’s illness that we watched our father learn to do these things. But it was so much more than that. He finally was able to care for mom in her time of need, as she had cared for him all those years. She who cared lovingly for her children, her husband, her mother and friends, could no longer care for herself. In her dying days she gave us the greatest gift of love, she let us love her and care for her in the most intimate of ways…..giving up her dignity and literally putting her life in our hands.
In the end, though she was helpless and couldn’t even talk, she was teaching us to love as Jesus loved. And that’s how we become stronger.
All this is echoed in some of mom’s last words as told to Deacon Larry Casey:
“It has been a wonderful journey with many loving stops along the way:
…the care, support, and nurturing I received for many years from parents and grandparents.
…the love and devotion given to me by this terrific man I have been married to for 47 years.
…the joy of giving birth to our five children and watching them grow and mature into men and women that any parent would be proud to call their own.
…the pleasure of hearing the silence of our home broken by laughter, hugs, and conversation that can only come from visiting grandchildren.”
The reality is that pain and suffering are a part of all of our lives while here on this Earth. Nowhere in the Bible does God promise any of us total happiness. What He did promise was life eternal for those who endure their hardships with faith, hope, love, and courage.”
The Gaetas are Changing the Face of Lung Cancer from TEAM DRAFT on Vimeo.
Everyone keeps telling me “There are no words.” Even I didn’t think I could find any worthy enough. Then, I imagined Joey’s courage and further developed my own. If I could just have half of his, I knew I could collect my thoughts. I closed my eyes and felt him instantly after he passed. His presence lifted my own. Fearless, I listened to my heart and nothing else. I immediately began to write…
Years ago, Joey once wrote on his painting, “Boxers and artists are a lot alike. Artists paint pictures with paint like a boxer throws punches.” Even then, Joey knew he was a fighter.
He was quiet. Some call it shy. We call it extraordinary. A man of few words but with a heart of verses. His silence was filled with pure goodness. And when he spoke, it was profound. We all listened in our own individual way. A family that heard his courageous fight. Together, we watched him- hiding his won struggle to prevent our own from overcoming us. We immersed ourselves in his grace, selflessness, strength, and deep love for us. He was relentless. And as he fought, our already strong family found a new meaning. The definition of family surpassed any human dictionary. W defined life, love, and unity through Joey. Without him saying a word, he taught us how to truly live- how to find strength when you think you have absolutely nothing left, how to truly be selfless, how to let petty differences disappear in the midst of what is important, and how to see someone’s true soul regardless of their physical presence.
I have watched my immediate family through all of this. And finally towards the end, I learned to be still. To sit and observe. I started to understand even more and recognized so many blessings. The bigger picture finally appeared, and my eyes became wide open.
I saw my brother, Mark, pour every ounce of himself into our brother. Silently, I thanked him for helping keep it the three of us because I always had two older brothers. I was amazed by his devotion and promise to protect Joey. Selflessly, he stood by Joey’s side through everything. He forgot himself completely, made Joey feel as if even the worst situation was “normal”, and I immediately recognized the father Mark will be someday. Their bond was priceless. As our favorite nurse at MD Anderson always said, “Mark is your brother’s keeper.”
Then, I watched my mother. Everyday, she became even more of his best friend. Her strength humbled me even when she thought she didn’t have any. Her endless sacrifice and comfort was immeasurable. She provided him more love and support than any mother could possibly give. Joey adored her and just felt “good” when she was around. Her presence was more potent than any medicine, and I know he lived for her as much as himself. She was angelic at his side at every moment, and I can only hope I can some day be half of the mother she is.
I also watched my father. He was present at all times. If anyone needed him, he was there with loyalty, support, and love. Holding his own tears, he stood before a family so afraid with his head held high. He wanted everyone to fell that we were in good hands as his own nervously shook.
I watched my Great Aunt Lucy miss Joey’s presence. At 96, she needed him. Even when she couldn’t speak, I saw her spirit weaken without him. They impacted each other’s lives simultaneously and shared a rare connection. His gracious, generous, and uplifting way with Lucy added years to her life, and I am forever grateful for this.
I also watched my sister-in-law, Sara, provide support and understanding wherever she felt appropriate. I watched her own uncertainty of what to do and sympathized silently. She remained present and understanding of her husband’s desire to protect his brother and family.
And lastly, I watched myself. I felt my growth. I saw myself remain still in the midst of chaos, speak from the heart, understand the true meaning of peace, and selflessly let go when it’s time because I recognized new beginnings. I found my role- to understand Joey and his needs for comfort for himself and my family. I finally listened to what he had endured and what he desired, and I embraced our spoken and unspoken connection. My moments with him have changed my life, made me fearless, and given me new beliefs and meanings of what is important.
Even as Joey lay in bed and couldn’t paint, he created a masterpiece. He painted our picture. My family dripped like the most illuminating colors imagined. Each of us a different shade! In silence, I sat with him and was so thankful that I took the time to watch this artist at work.
A hospital was no place for a soul like his. He is an angel- a son, a brother, a friend, a fighter, an artist. Humble in his talent, gracious with his heart, wealthy with his soul, wise in his silence, and authentic in his being. He lived as he painted, inspired as he fought, and loved with each stroke in his own special way. He created a masterpiece. He created a family. We were his canvas, yet he is the most extraordinary color we will ever see- a perfect hue!
Humbly,
Lauren B. Lerner
Mary Anne Rios, diagnosed in August 2010 with incurable Stage 3B Lung Cancer was a shock to me, and my family. I am a non-smoker. At that time we had only heard of smokers being diagnosed with lung cancer. We now know that if you have lungs you could be diagnosed with lung cancer. Although there are no pre-screening for early diagnosis for non smokers there are six important symptoms.
Here are the six symptoms printed in the October issue of Ladies Home Journal this past month. I had them all and was misdiagnosed by 3 doctors:
- A cough that lasts longer than three weeks, or any cough with blood
- Losing weight without trying
- Shortness of breath, wheezing, hoarseness
- Persistent chest, back or shoulder pain
- Unusual, ongoing fatigue
- Recurring respiratory infections – colds, bronchitis, pneumonia
for more details on symptoms please visit http://www.lungcanceralliance.org/
On October 4th, 2010 I asked my doctor why wasn’t’ there awareness for lung cancer as there was for breast cancer he turned the question to me. We agreed that due to the stigma of smoking, no celebrity spokesperson, and the political aspect lung cancer was left in the shadows.
But I was not going to give up. I wanted bracelets so I had my own made stating “Lung Cancer Sucks….And Then You Live” And because of the prayers, support, help with awareness and a new targeted treatment…. I could one of the 15% that survives.
On that same day I found Lung Cancer Alliance, and the organization was hosting vigils to raise awareness. I couldn’t wait to go. There was one in San Diego, perfect I thought I could see my niece. But then I saw the link to host your own…only a month away my family, friends, LHS colleagues, students (current & former) supported me in this effort and we had a successful event.
I have had over 80+ various chemo cocktail treatments, 50- radiation treatments to my chest (3 different areas), whole brain radiation, and spine radiation. I am currently on the new targeted treatment Tarceva, a pill taken daily, and a monthly shot called Xgeva for the cancer in my bones/bone marrow.
My diagnosis:
Non small cell Lung Cancer Adenocarcinoma metastasized to 3 brain tumors
Supraclavicular adenopathy
Secondary Malignant neoplasm of bone and bone marrow
My last scans showed small spots on my good lung, a spot on my liver….but the Tarceva appears to be working as my brain tumors are negligible, and my lymph nodes have shrunk drastically.
Throughout this journey we have had many ups and downs. When you never stop being treated for lung cancer it does become your life unfortunately. There have many things I couldn’t participate in for certain health reasons. So my family & friends made adjustments…and many of my bucket list wishes came true this last year.
My mission and wish is to RAISE AWARENESS FOR LUNG CANCER. So if you see a white ribbon you know it’s lung cancer. And if someone tells you they have lung cancer…the most insulting question you could ask is “how long did you smoke:” 28,000 Americans will die this year from lung cancer and being non-smokers.
Lung cancer kills more women/men then breast, colon, and prostrate combined. But is the least funded, and the one doctors & patients are uneducated and uninformed.