English
As told to Nicole Audrey Spector
January is Cervical Cancer Awareness Month
In 2020, my then-teenager son and I were still adjusting to a relatively new life. A few years before I turned 40, I separated from my husband, moved from Washington to Utah, and became a single mother. I had a job at a large company and was very busy with work and my responsibilities related to my son.
Despite my hectic schedule and the fact that I had no symptoms, I always made sure to stay up to date on my annual medical exams, including pap smears. You have had abnormal results in the past, which could indicate serious problems such as cancer cells or precancerous lesions. In my case, they told me that all I had to do was follow up.
As I lay on the thin, crumpled sheet of paper on the exam table, I didn’t feel anything was wrong. But when the registered nurse began the test, it seemed like something was very wrong.
“Do you know you have a mass on your cervix?” said.
“The?” said. “I have what?!”
“Go to the next room for further assessment,” he said. “A doctor will come to do a biopsy.”
My heart was racing with panic and my mind was racing, but I felt some comfort knowing that my medical team was taking this issue seriously.
After they did the biopsy, I had to wait about a week to get the results. The wait was torture. I was terrified of getting bad news, especially on the phone. When the nurse finally received the results, I told her that I needed a personal consultation with her and the doctor as soon as possible.
When I went to the appointment the next day, the registered nurse and doctor told me I had cervical adenocarcinoma, a type of cervical cancer. I knew nothing about this type of cancer. I desperately needed answers.
“Will I get over this?” I asked. “Will I survive?”
The doctor looked at me with eyes devoid of compassion.
“Mmm,” she said thoughtfully. “I do not know”.
His casual indifference was disturbing. I didn’t have time for that.
I asked him to come out.
The doctor came and the registered nurse explained to me that I should have a consultation with a gynecological oncologist to determine the stage of the cancer and discuss treatment options. He told me that all of my medical records had been faxed to one of the top doctors in the state.
As I left the office, I walked to my vehicle and cried uncontrollably. I texted my partner and asked if I could call him at work. I called him as he was leaving work and he asked me about the biopsy results. The first thing he said when I told him I had cancer was, “We’ll get through this.”
Then I had to make an even more emotional call to my mother in Michigan. It was cliche, but when she answered the phone I told her I had the results and asked, “Are you sitting down?”
“It’s cancer, right?” said.
“Yes,” I said.
“Where are you?”
“In the hospital parking lot.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Believe it or not, I’m going to work.”
And that’s exactly what I did. I needed to be in a familiar environment where cancer wasn’t talked about, without thinking that I might die. The drive to Salt Lake City took 45 minutes. I turned on a rock station at full volume and blasted Ozzy Osbourne songs.
I let a week pass to tell my 15-year-old son what was happening. When I mentioned the word “cancer,” he asked me, worried but hopeful, “What’s going to happen now?” I assured him that we would find out soon. After talking to him I felt better and comforted.
About two weeks after diagnosis, I had a PET scan and the radiologist told me I had stage 1B1 cervical cancer and was about to move on to stage 2. Two weeks later I met with Dr. Hunn, a well-known gynecological oncologist.
Dr. Hunn exceeded all of my expectations as an oncologist. He had examined my case very carefully and told me with empathy and confidence: “I will help you and in the end we will succeed.”
He suggested the following treatment plan:
– Six weeks of chemotherapy
– Six weeks of radiation therapy, five days a week
– Two to five rounds of brachytherapy if the tumor has not shrunk
– A total hysterectomy
I completely agreed and was ready to start treatment. It was extremely difficult to undergo all these treatments. The radiation left burns on my lower abdomen. The chemo made me feel terrible with vomiting and diarrhea. I wasn’t hungry. Even my great passion, coffee, tasted disgusting.
I had to undergo two rounds of brachytherapy and then I had to have the hysterectomy. I had no plans to have more children, so a hysterectomy was an easy decision emotionally, but the recovery was painful. Since this all happened during the worst phase of the Covid crisis, I had to be alone during the treatments. Wearing the mask and being alone after the surgery to remove my uterus while recovering from chemotherapy and radiation was a terribly lonely experience. He cried uncontrollably.
My entire treatment lasted about three months. In 2021, I officially received the best news I’ve ever received: I was in remission.
Although I was afraid of death from the start and had lost a close friend to cancer, I tried to stay positive and optimistic during treatment. My nurse nicknamed me “positive petunia.” I continued to adopt an optimistic attitude, not only for myself but also for other people with cancer.
I have attended cervical cancer survivors group meetings and am continually learning how to better educate people about cervical cancer and other cancers. With this in mind, I have noticed a worrying lack of conversation about cervical cancer and other cancers that affect people in sensitive ways. They are stigmatized in our society. Part of the purpose of awareness is to end this stigma.
Currently I am still free from this disease. I live with some unpleasant side effects of cancer treatment, including neuropathy in my feet and lymphedema in my left leg. I’m just over 40, but some days I feel very old. I try to remember that I’ve been through a lot.
I’m sharing my story now because it relates to a much more important and relevant issue: the HPV vaccine. I didn’t even know I had HPV until I was diagnosed with cervical cancer. They just told me that my pap smears were “abnormal.”
While most HPV infections clear up on their own within a few years, some high-risk strains of HPV can cause various types of cancer, including cervical cancer. There is a way to stop its spread. The HPV vaccine is available for people between the ages of 9 and 45. Once I was eligible for the vaccine, I received it after completing my treatment.
Part of raising awareness about diseases like cervical cancer is being aware of the availability and safety of important prevention measures like vaccines and testing. If I hadn’t gotten my routine Pap test on time, I might not be here to tell you about it.
Features
Cervivor
This educational resource was created with support from Merck.
Are you a woman with real stories you would like to share? Let us know
Our stories are authentic experiences of real women. The views, opinions and experiences expressed in these stories are not endorsed by HealthyWomen and do not necessarily reflect HealthyWomen’s official policies or positions.
From your website articles
Related articles on the Internet