After
a year of bladder irregularities, I finally went to see
a urologist on August 20th 1993. By then, I had unexplained
flatus, a distended abdomen and irregular urination—
all the classic symptoms of ovarian cancer—which I
didn’t recognize. The urologist felt a tumor on my
ovary and sent me for a trans-vaginal ultrasound. The tumor
was the size of a grapefruit. My CA-125 was 7700. After
a total hysterectomy, I was diagnosed with Stage III epithelial
ovarian cancer.
In September, I began chemotherapy treatments
that continued through July 1994. My CA-125 dropped to single
digits. I spent the next year trying to make up for the
year I lost. I worked to build up my weakened endurance,
I reacquainted myself with tastes I had sorely missed, like
hamburgers and catsup, and I started reading again, something
I hadn’t been able to do with “chemo brain.”
I was healthy, but at my daughter’s
request I got tested for the BRCA 1 & 2 gene mutation.
I was positive for BRCA 2. In August 1998, I had a double
prophylactic mastectomy and tram-flap reconstruction.
In May 2001, I had a recurrence. After
another surgery, I tried every available chemo for 2 ½
years, including Megase, a tumor inhibitor that caused me
to gain 80 pounds, but my numbers remained in the high 20’s.
I was so miserable I threw away all my pills. I lost the
weight and a year and a half later, my numbers were down
to the teens.
Since the onset of disease, I have had
CA-125 blood tests every 3 months. It is July 2005. I know
how lucky I am to be healthy and alive. I acknowledge it
every day. I don’t think I’ll ever take anything
for granted again.
