Essays
Coping with the Big “C”
By Joyce E. Byrd
THE PAST FEW months have been rather
hectic for my family. After a few days of unusually ill health
in July, my mother reluctantly agreed to visit an emergency
room for help. Four long hospital days later, Mom was diagnosed
with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma – cancer of the lymph
nodes.
Cancer. Other than astrology (born in June, Mom’s zodiac
sign is cancer), neither Mom nor I comprehended the real significance
of the word. Now, Mom found herself facing costly hospitalization
and drug therapy to battle the same life-threatening illness
that Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, despite her vast resources,
could not conquer.
We since have learned that 90% of patients diagnosed with
and treated for malignant lymphoma continue to lead relatively
healthy lives five years after initial diagnosis. Preliminary
testing indicates Mom’s lymphoma has not spread to any
vital organs making treatment and the short- and long-term
prognosis very promising.
Still a diagnosis of cancer is devastating. Mom and I boarded
a seemingly endless roller coaster ride of fear, despair,
grief, and anger. The doctors, hospital staff, and American
Cancer Society have been unbelievable helpful and patient
in providing support, answering questions, and teaching us
to channel our frustration into an aggressive attack on the
disease.
In
addition to funding research, the American Cancer Society
provides a host of patient services including patient support
groups, a question and answer hotline, transportation to and
from radiation therapy, and loaner medical equipment (such
as walkers). They also sponsor an invaluable program that
enables current patients to commiserate and bond with cancer
survivors. Mostly, it provides a network of compassion, understanding,
and strength when the world all around appears to be a morass
of quicksand.
I hope that you never have to hear the word “cancer”
associated with a loved one, but I strongly encourage you
to give generously to the American Cancer Society for those
of us who do.
Copyright © 1995, Joyce E. Byrd |