Surviving With Strength

A random attack of cancer strikes fear in anyone. Why me? Am I going to die? What did I do wrong? Why did this have to strike my daughter at such a young age? It’s not possible to answer these questions. What matters most, is our response to these life challenges.

My experience with cancer began in 1988. My 9- year-old daughter Erin was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma. Surgeons removed a cantaloupe- sized tumor from her abdomen, but were unable to get the entire growth. Until her death in 1991, she endured multiple s u r g e r i e s , chemotherapy and radiation that severely burned her already ill body. I learned so much from her. I miss her.

In April 2002, at 53 years old, I was diagnosed with lymphoma. I cannot tell you how astonished I was to learn of my condition. How could this be? Haven't we had enough? My wife and I had already experienced our child dying in our arms. What could be next for us? What about our son Eric? Again I was filled
with fear, but once we all began to fight back it gradually subsided.

The first step of each patient’s process is correct diagnosis. I believe you must have at least two opinions regarding pathology. If a patient is incorrectly diagnosed, the treatment will not attack their disease. I have spoken with patients who were disappointed with treatment outcome. They later learned that the course of medications would have been different had they researched their circumstances more thoroughly. Consensus on diagnosis is good. Differing opinions lead to better decisions, so patient and family must be proactive and explore options. The relationship with the medical system should be considered a partnership.

The next step is launching a plan of attack. After all, this is War! Most things, including my cancer, are not simply about winning and losing. My disease is about the process. I believe it is important to have a positive attitude. Mine is: "I will be the best I can be. I will do all that I can do to get well and to help my loved ones. I will follow all of the doctor’s directions. I will do everything in my power to give myself and loved ones every chance to survive this disease. And then I will pray!"

I believe "hope" is important. One can benefit from faith in something. The mental, physical and spiritual obstacles related to cancer are severe. A positive outlook may not have the power to heal -— but, then again, it might. I believe, at the very least, it can make the process more manageable. Hope and faith are very personal. I was broken-hearted and disappointed when God did not heal my daughter. Yet, I believe she is in heaven. When I was diagnosed, I was angry with God. My lonely walks on the beach brought on another series of questions: What kind of God are you? Do you care? What do you want with my family? Even so, I never gave up my trust that God is watching over Erin.

My journey forward has been steady but difficult. It requires a willingness to participate on so many levels and I’m always seeking answers. I believe that the process will lead to living my life at the highest level, regardless of the outcome. Prayer and reflection are part of my daily vigilance. I am grateful that doctors, nurses, chemotherapy, and other drugs are available. I consider these to be gifts from God. I also believe this is part of a grand plan that will give me, the cancer patient, an opportunity to fight and a chance to get well.

When our daughter Erin died my wife, Karen, and I made our decision to fight back. We joined with others in an organization called the Pediatric Cancer Research Foundation (PCRF) to raise funds for research aimed at curing pediatric cancer. I’m a past president of PCRF, and currently a member of the PCRF board of directors. Karen spends countless hours on the PCRF Holiday Card Program — their major fund raising activity for the last 20 years. Our family shares the goals of PCRF.