By: Heather Von St. James
“You have a tumor.”
Dr. Flink clutched my hands, saying it in a way that immediately led me to believe that this was far more serious than I had thought. I could feel in his gaze that this one was truly bad. As I tried to process his words, my mind was consumed with thoughts of my newborn daughter, Lily. Would she grow up without a mother?
The cancer I had is called mesothelioma, a malignant cell mass that develops in the lining of the lungs. Because it’s usually reached an advanced stage by the time it’s detected, it’s considered terminal at the time of diagnosis. My mind reeled. I was 36 years old, a new mother, and now a cancer patient diagnosed with an incurable disease.
The doctor offered me three treatment options. The first was to not have any treatment. With a projected life expectancy of just 15 months, that was not an option. Our second was to pursue treatment at the University of Minnesota or The Mayo Clinic. While these facilities are certainly renowned for their treatment of many conditions, mesothelioma was not one of them. With radiation and chemo, I might live for 5 years.
My best option was a radical one, because the mesothelioma life expectancy is so short. I was to go see Dr. David Sugarbaker at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. He performs a risky procedure called an extrapleural pneumonectomy. It involves the removal of tumor itself, the entire affected lung, a portion of the diaphragm, and the membranous lining of the lungs and heart. If I was a candidate for surgery, my survival could be 10 years or more. My husband immediately responded, “Get us to Boston.”
I could not have asked for a better support system throughout this whole ordeal. My friends and family were more than accommodating to me and willing to do whatever it took to get me through. One of the hardest parts was sending my daughter Lily to live with my parents for a whole month while I underwent treatment. Sending Lily away was such a difficult thing to deal with as a mother, but it also was one of the biggest reasons for me to fight for my life. I needed to get home to my daughter. I needed to be there for her and to watch her grow.
On February 2nd, 2006 I underwent extrapleural pneumonectomy. A day known to many as Groundhog Day is now affectionately known in our household as “LungLeavingDay.”
Six years later, LungLeavingDay is still recognized in our house. Every year, on the first Saturday in February, we celebrate life by writing our fears down on plates before throwing them into a fire. This has become a huge tradition among my family and friends. It is now a celebration of gigantic proportions, usually with over 70 people attending. LungLeavingDay is not only a celebration of my triumphs; but is a way for all my friends and family to celebrate their happiness and do away with their fears. It’s just one of the many ways that my battle with mesothelioma has helped me to change my outlook on life and to help others by inspiring them.
By telling my story, I want to offer hope to those diagnosed with this difficult disease. Too often, those diagnosed with a terminal illness just give up. After one look into my 3-month old daughters eyes, I knew that was never an option.
Heather Von St James is a guest blogger for the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance. Heather was diagnosed with Mesothelioma just 3 1/2 months after her first and only child was born. She hopes to share her story as a means of inspiration to other mothers who may be going through similar situations to what she went through. With her love for her family and her faith, she beat the disease and is now living happily, cherishing every moment with her now six-year-old daughter. You can read Heather’s full story at the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance Blog.