My ovarian cancer story revolves around my amazing mother, Nadine. Mom was diagnosed with Stage 4 ovarian cancer on April 8, 2010 at the age of 52.
She was an extremely active, health conscious woman, who took care of herself and made sure to have all the preventative care done to ensure she was in the best health that she could be. My point is, ovarian cancer will and does strike all races, ages, and types of women, so we all must be aware of the symptoms.
I was 25 years old when Mom was diagnosed.
I had been married to my husband, Todd, for 10 months and we were both teachers in Newton, Iowa at the time. Driving home from school on Friday, April 9th, I called my mom to chat. She didn’t answer, which was odd, so I called my dad. It was at the intersection of the car wash and bank that the bombshell was dropped. Dad wasn’t sure how to say it, but there isn’t an easy way to tell your child or hear that your parent has cancer. Hearing the words, “Mom has ovarian cancer,” made me sick to my stomach and drew instant tears of fright, worry, and sadness for my mom and family. My mom, being the caring mother that she is, didn’t want me to be alone when I heard the news, so she had spoken to Todd and he was going to tell me when he got home from track practice, but I called Dad, so the plan didn’t work and that is ok. I needed time to try to comprehend what was happening with my mom, yet I had so many questions. I knew nothing about ovarian cancer, which was probably a blessing at the time, because as I know now, the prognosis is not favorable. According to Colleen’s Dream Foundation, only 44% of women survive after 5 years, thankfully Mom is in the 4th year of courageously fighting this nasty disease. I found comfort with my best friend and neighbor at the time, Jolene, until Todd was home. We then packed the car, stopped at school to make lesson plans for the next week, and headed to my parents’ home in Earling, Iowa. For two and half hours I contemplated what to say to my mom, my dad, my brother, and our friends and family. I knew I needed to be strong and supportive for my mom, but I shed a lot of tears during the car ride simply because of the unknown.
Todd and I arrived and embraced Dad, before seeing Mom. A hug and simple “I’m so sorry and praying for you,” is all that was needed with Mom.
She absolutely hated having to tell my brother Tony (20) and me that she had ovarian cancer. Mom was and continues to be very strong. She was more concerned about interrupting our lives and worrying us. It was important that we reiterated to her that we were ok and would be there for the long journey ahead.
Like I said, Mom was diagnosed on a Thursday and on the following Monday she had an appointment with a gynecological oncologist, Dr. David Crotzer at Methodist’s Estabrook Cancer Center in Omaha, Nebraska. Finding the best doctor to treat Mom’s cancer was imperative to her survival. Dr. Crotzer only works with gynecological cancers, so he is the best of the best. Due to the nature of ovarian cancer, it was hard to know what we would be dealing with until surgery. So, Mom’s surgery was set up for Wednesday. Dr. Crotzer would have done it Tuesday, but there weren’t any operating rooms available. Waiting for 6 hours caused for a long day at the hospital, but nothing could have prepared us for what was found. A tumor the size of a football was removed during Mom’s “debulking.” Dr. Crotzer meticulously removed all the cancer he could, peeling additional tumors and disease off of her gallbladder, intestines, and colon. She also had to have a colostomy, which we knew was a strong possibility. Her CA-125 dropped drastically after surgery, so that was good news. Mom received 3 units of blood during and following surgery and was placed in the ICU for 3 nights, and then she spent an additional 4 days in the hospital. I was officially the caregiver and nurse, the role my mom always played. Thank goodness she wasn’t afraid to tell me (and the other nurses) what to do! I have to say, I wasn’t mentally prepared to see my mom in that ICU bed. She was completely helpless and was hooked up to so many machines, so after a quick cry in the bathroom stall, I pulled myself together and just figured things out, because I had to. I must say it is impossible to get any sleep in the ICU, between the constant beeping of machines, vital checks, and lab draws, I don’t know how any patients get any rest either! I was so incredibly thankful for all of our family and friends that spent time with Mom and us while at the hospital and at home. Mom’s nursing friends even gave her the baths!
Mom was officially diagnosed with stage 3C ovarian cancer, which eventually got bumped up to stage 4 when it was determined that the cancer was around her lungs and possible lymph nodes.
After 6 weeks of recovering and healing from surgery, which left a scar from her sternum vertically down her entire abdomen; Mom was ready to start chemo. Following a quick surgery to place a power port in Mom’s chest, she began the dreaded 18 week chemotherapy. It was feared because of the side effects, but also provided an odd comfort because at least we were doing something to get rid of the horrific disease. Mom received 6 rounds of chemo. Each round consisted of 3 weeks of chemotherapy, in which Mom went once a week to receive one or a combination of Taxol, Carboplatin, and Avastin (clinical trial at the time). As expected, Mom lost her hair and felt down right miserable, but she rarely complained. She had sores in her mouth, lost her fingernails, and needed several blood transfusions to help her hemoglopin and energy level. Not only was the support of our family, friends, and community appreciated, it was a vital component to Mom’s fight. Mental health is a huge factor in battling ovarian cancer, and any cancer, so Mom sees a psychologist and psychiatrist regularly. She has also had Reiki sessions, massages, and other relaxation sessions.
After the initial chemotherapy, Mom felt great for about 18 months. She was back to walking/exercising 45-60 minutes a day, working as a RN for home and public health, and enjoying life! Then, Mom was getting short of breath and not feeling quite right. Sure enough her CA-125 was elevated again, so she began chemo for the second time, on June 19, 2012. This time she just received Taxol and Carboplatin, but it was still 6 rounds consisting of 3 weeks per round. Prior to Mom’s 2nd bout of chemo, Todd and I relocated to Harlan, Iowa to be within 10 minutes of my parents. This allowed me to visit whenever I wanted, drive Mom to appointments, and just be there to support her and Dad. During this time, Todd and I were trying to start a family and came upon some bumps in the road. Thankfully, with God’s grace and the assistance of in-vitro fertilization, we became pregnant with our first child in October of 2012, due June 20, 2013. This brought such great joy to our families, especially Mom. Having something to look forward to really helped her through her dark days. We were happily awaiting the birth of our child, planning showers and setting up the nursery. Then, in the spring of 2013 Mom’s CA-125 was increasing but she didn’t have any other symptoms, so she held off on the chemo. In May 2013 Mom decided to visit the Cancer Treatment Center of America in Zion, IL to see if they had any other insight. Per their protocol, a cat scan and brain MRI were done for baseline data. A small brain lesion was found on the front right side of Mom’s brain. She returned home and a family friend and I accompanied Mom to Omaha for her Gamma knife radiation. The radiation worked and the brain lesion has not returned since…praise the Lord!
Surprising us 2 weeks early, Priya Nadine joined our family on June 7, 2013. What an absolute miracle!
Mom was feeling great and spent as much time as she could with her first and only grandchild. She took good care of us with meals, visits, and hugs. Mom started to have pain in her thigh and some other symptoms in the fall of 2013 so she visited Dr. Crotzer about a month earlier than her scheduled 12 week appointment. Sure enough, the ovarian cancer showed its ugly head again. So, Mom began chemotherapy for the 3rd time on November 5, 2013. Mom’s chemo regime remained the same, 6 rounds of 3 weeks. This time Mom received Carboplatin, Gemzar, and Avastin. With each additional chemotherapy round, comes the reality that ovarian cancer isn’t going away. The time between Mom’s chemotherapy sessions continues to get shorter, but she continues to fight a valiant fight. People often ask, “Is she in remission then?” I hate that question because, quite honestly, she never will be. With ovarian cancer, particularly the later stages, it is very difficult to have a full cure and remission. Mom finished chemo in March, but received Avastin as a maintenance drug once every three weeks until May, when her CA-125 began to escalate again. Currently, she is not receiving any chemotherapy or other drugs. She will return for a check-up in 12 weeks, unless other symptoms arise.
Tuesdays were and continue to be Mom’s chemo day, so I always try to wear teal on Tuesdays.
I am sure not many recognize it, but it is my own way to support my mom when I am not with her. I accompany my mom when I can, but it is absolutely amazing the number of people who volunteer to drive mom to her appointments. I am also humbled by the compassionate staff at Estabrook Cancer Center. From the valet drivers and door greeters to the secretaries, doctors, and nurses, everyone is kind and helpful. Maybe they are extra nice to us because Mom insists on taking them a homemade snack every time she visits! Priya has even gone with us on chemo days and she brightens everyone’s day in the infusion room!
Mom has always had a strong faith, but it has been strengthened.
I know I wouldn’t be able to function if I didn’t have my faith and prayer. I don’t have answers and I don’t know what the future holds, but I can pray and find comfort that others are praying with us. I also have a completely different perspective on life and what matters most. It may sound cliché, but honestly does it matter if your house isn’t perfect or your car isn’t brand new? No! Make memories with your family and the greatest gift is time with those you love. I have always been a planner, like my mom, but I have learned to stop and actually live in the moment because that is the only thing that is certain.
I also know that I am now at a greater risk of developing ovarian cancer and it is terrifying. When we are done having children, I will more than likely undergo a full hysterectomy as a preventative measure.
I am also scared about my own precious daughter and pray that an early detection screening tool is discovered in time for her. Colleen’s Dream Foundation strictly raises money for emerging researchers who are working to find an early screening tool for ovarian cancer. One of the founders of the foundation, Billy Cundiff, is from our hometown and lost his mother-in-law, Colleen Drury, to ovarian cancer on February 23, 2013. Mom, her good friend Holli (who recently died of OC on June 9, 2014), and I attended Colleen’s Dream Inaugural Gala in February. I plan to stay as active as I can with Colleen’s Dream Foundation to raise awareness about the signs of ovarian cancer and money for research for an early detection screening tool. My mom shares her story whenever she can and has already spoken to nearly 1,000 women in Iowa. Knowledge will save lives!
I will continue to be a supporter, caregiver, advocate and most importantly daughter to my mother through her ovarian cancer journey. It is a journey, one that I wouldn’t want to be on with anyone else. I want to end with one of Mom’s favorite quotes:
“I am strong, and together we are stronger.”
– Jenna Hucka
