By Lindi Senez
Fighting cancer is truly a team effort. But what happens
when the caregiver of the team is no longer the caregiver? What happens when
your loved one passes away, and you have to find
your new normal?
This is what I've struggled to figure out since my husband,
Dave, died one year ago on June 30, 2014.
Saying goodbye to
Dave and my role as his caregiver
For eight years, Dave fought hemangiopericytoma, a type of brain tumor, in the most relentless, selfless
journey I've ever witnessed. I was his full-time caregiver while continuing to
teach high school science, run our family's brain tumor foundation and care for
our beautiful, blue-eyed baby boy.
After sleepless nights researching brain tumors and clinical trials that might provide relief, I
began to listen when Dave said, "You'll be OK."
Still, I wasn't quite sure how I would find meaning in my
Continue reading Finding meaning in my life after my husband's death.
By Debra Ruzensky
In 2013, my role at MD Anderson changed when my husband was diagnosed with stage three diffuse large B-cell lymphoma. Now I wasn't just a registered dietitian. I was a caregiver, too.
Seeing a new side of MD Anderson during lymphoma treatment
Every three weeks, my husband was admitted at MD Anderson for five to six days. Each time, I moved into his hospital room with him. I worked here during the day and went up to his room in the evenings. I ate here, showered and dressed here, heated my meals in the family lounge and made my morning cup of coffee here.
It was mentally difficult to "change hats." My eyes and ears were always in tune to his nutrition and the value it plays in treatment tolerance and recovery. Meeting some of the other caregivers on the floor and comparing notes was helpful, but at times it added to my worry and stress. I didn't want to hear any negative stories. I was trying to hold it all together and stay positive.
I had a great support system of family, friends, and coworkers praying and offering to help in other ways. The chapel was a special place for me to quietly sit and pray or just be calm. Sunday morning masses were also a huge comfort to me.
Continue reading My journey from MD Anderson dietitian to caregiver.
By Almas Hirani
A year ago, I started working at MD Anderson, and every day has been an amazing journey.
I've heard people say that they want to change the world. They want to do something outstanding to make this world better. Well, I get an opportunity to make a difference right here at MD Anderson. I work in the Sterile Processing Department where tools used for surgery are processed. This gives me an opportunity to show my attitude, my strength and my passion -- and make a difference in so many people's lives.
The instruments processed in my department help save so many lives every day. These are the very instruments that help us connect with our patients, doctors and others in the operating room. They help patients get a new life. Being part of this is an amazing feeling.
Staying at the forefront of technology
MD Anderson strives to stay at the forefront of advances in technology. As technology improves, my coworkers and I get to expand our abilities and work on newer and more complex instruments. Our department provides us the training we need to expand our knowledge and skills.
Continue reading Why I love working to end cancer.
By Lindsay Lewis
As a nurse right out of school, Carlos Hernandez knows it can take time to master the skills needed to become a good nurse.
"New nurses come to work every day hoping to learn something new, build trust with our teams and become comfortable with our practice," says Hernandez, a clinical nurse on our stem cell transplant unit. "But what we really need is confidence -- and to know that we're making a difference for our patients."
To help build that confidence and ensure that our patients are getting the best care possible, MD Anderson has started a simulation training program. It gives new nurses role-playing situations with real patients.
"It's really important that we give our new nurses a way to develop relationship-building and communication skills with patients early in their nursing careers," says Kelly LaFrentz, who manages the program.
A new approach for training nurses
The simulation program is designed to bridge the gap between what new nurses learn in school and what they experience at patients' bedsides. It gives nurses a safe environment to run through real-life scenarios and gain valuable feedback.
"You don't know what you don't know until you've been through it," says James Cavalier, Jr., who runs the simulation center. "With this type of learning, nurses are able to identify their own opportunities for improvement as well as validate what they're doing right. It quickly builds their confidence."
Continue reading New training for nurses bridges books and bedside.
By Stephanie Madsen
Three years after my large cell neuroendocrine cervical cancer diagnosis, I've defied the odds. The statistics gave me less than a 20% chance of surviving one year.
But I have yet to make it an entire year without cancer. I've hit the three-month mark and have even made it to eight months cancer-free. Soon, I'll lie on the cold, hard, metallic table while a machine takes pictures of my insides from head to toe. Then, I'll wait for my results. I'm hoping this time I'll be able to say I've been cancer-free for a whole year.
Praying to remain cancer-free
Once I learned that my life was not guaranteed, my prayers were taken to new heights.
Have you ever had a prayer so desperate it crashed loudly in the torrential storm of your spirit? A plea so full of depth, it couldn't be given an audible voice? One equally full of hope and fear? Lately, my prayers have been carnal cries or petitions that bring me to my knees.
Not one of my prayers ends without the utterance of a plea to remain cancer-free for the rest of my life here on Earth. I ask for my dreams to come to fruition.
"I'd love to grow old with my husband. Please allow me to experience motherhood. I want to watch my children grow into adults and have their own children. I ask that I live until I'm wrinkled, hard of hearing and gray."
Truth be told, I'm desperate.
Continue reading Large cell cervical cancer survivor: Thoughts on my annual scans.
Fatigue. Hot flashes. Thinning hair. The nagging feeling that something just wasn't right.
In 2010, Kimberly Hill began experiencing these symptoms, so she turned to doctors in her hometown of Knoxville, Tenn. They diagnosed the mother of three with thyroid cancer
. Kimberly, who was 40 at the time, underwent a thyroidectomy and radical neck surgeries for treatment.
But years later, the symptoms wouldn't go away. In fact, they increased.
"I was beginning to feel like a hypochondriac," Kimberly says. "I wasn't feeling better. I was getting worse."
When doctors wanted to perform additional surgeries, Kimberly refused. She conducted her own research and was impressed by the expertise of MD Anderson's endocrine cancer team.
A different diagnosis: stage 4 lymphoma
At MD Anderson, Kimberly received a new diagnosis stage 4 lymphocyte predominate Hodgkin's lymphoma
. The disease had spread to her lymph nodes, spleen, bone marrow and throughout her gastrointestinal tract.
Continue reading After stage 4 lymphoma, a new lease on life .
By Linda Ryan
It's been almost four years since my cervical cancer recurrence, but my two sons, Matthew (17) and Ethan (13), never traveled with me to MD Anderson until my check-up last month. I planned my appointment over their spring break so we could fit in a few college visits in Texas. I knew it might be emotionally difficult for them to go to MD Anderson. So, I did my best to handle the visit the same way I handled my treatment. I tried to let them see and feel my confidence.
Not only were we there for my appointment, but they joined me on the visits with all of the wonderful people I've have met in Houston through my journey. Both boys agreed that it was cool to see my home away from home.
How our visit affected my sons
After our visit, I gave Matthew and Ethan a few weeks to digest the emotions associated with going my oncology appointment before asking them a few questions separately about the experience. They both agreed that MD Anderson was not what they expected.
They were both surprised and saddened by how many people -- of all ages, races and genders -- were treated at MD Anderson. Matthew said being there made him sad because he knew what the families he saw were going through.
Continue reading Traveling with my sons to MD Anderson .
By Dawn Dorsey
As a personal trainer, Houston native Claudia Schloeter has spent 18 years helping others get in shape. She has always worked out six days a week and lives a healthy lifestyle, so she was shocked when she was diagnosed with breast cancer last year.
An unexpected diagnosis
Claudia, now 42, started having regular mammograms at 35 because she has benign fibrocystic breast disease. While MD Anderson recommends that most women don't begin having annual mammograms until 40, Claudia often found lumps during breast self-exams. After her mammograms, doctors used ultrasound and needle biopsies to be sure suspicious areas weren't cancer.
But after a mammogram last year, a needle biopsy showed she had stage 2 breast cancer.
"I was very scared when I found out I had cancer, especially the first few days," Claudia says. "I have a little boy, and I wanted to see him grow up."
Continue reading How a Houston trainer is showing what a cancer survivor looks like .
James (Jim) Boysen first met Jesse C. Selber, M.D., four years ago. The Austin-based software developer had come to MD Anderson for reconstructive surgery after successful treatment for leiomyosarcoma, a rare cancer of the smooth muscle, on his scalp had left him with a large, deep wound on his head.
But Jim, now age 55, didn't just need reconstructive surgery on his scalp and skull. He also needed another kidney and pancreas transplant. He'd previously received a kidney and pancreas transplant in 1992, due to complications from juvenile diabetes.
This presented a Catch-22 for Selber. The scalp and skull wound kept doctors from performing the second solid-organ transplant. Likewise, Jim's kidney and pancreas functions, along with his immunosuppression medications for his pancreas and kidney, complicated scalp reconstruction.
But Jim's wound, medication and organ failure ultimately became part of the solution. On May 22, he became the first person ever to receive a scalp and skull transplant simultaneously with solid organ transplants.
A transplant four years in the making
"When I first met Jim, I made the connection between him needing a new kidney and pancreas and the ongoing anti-rejection medication to support them, and receiving a full scalp and skull transplant at the same time that would be protected by those same medications," says Selber, who came up with the idea of performing the scalp and skull transplant at the same time as the kidney and pancreas transplant. "This was a unique situation that created the opportunity to perform this complex transplant."
Continue reading First scalp and skull transplant completed simultaneously with kidney and pancreas transplant.
By Kate Boone
I knew it couldn't be good news when my doctor called at 7 a.m. to discuss my scans from the night before. My melanoma had spread, she told me. I had three new tumors in my brain and needed radiation.
I met with the radiologist and neurosurgeon the following week. They recommended gamma knife surgery. The procedure is more like radiation than surgery. Unlike radiation therapy - which uses several treatments - gamma knife surgery targets a specific area in just one treatment.
To be honest, gamma knife surgery was one of the more difficult things I've dealt with since beginning melanoma treatment. The process was uncomfortable and triggered some anxiety, an emotion I hadn't experienced much of up until this point. But with a sense of humor and meditation, I was able to cope.
Getting fitted with a halo for gamma knife surgery
From a video I watched at MD Anderson, I learned the procedure would include having a halo placed over my head and neck. Then, I would be put into a machine, similar those used during an MRI, for the gamma knife surgery.
This is not something I'd ever expected when I received my melanoma diagnosis. I thought a halo was for injured hockey players or extreme sports athletes. Not me. Not skin cancer.
Continue reading Coping during gamma knife surgery.
By Donis Laine
My meningioma story began on a sunny and hot afternoon with a bright blue, cloudless sky.
As I crossed a parking lot, I looked up, closed one eye and noticed that the sky seemed dark and grey. Then, I closed my left eye. The sky looked bright blue. I closed my right eye again and saw grey. I made an appointment with my optometrist the following Monday.
My meningioma diagnosis
It turned out that the problem wasn't in my eye. It was behind my eye. My optometrist sent me to a neuro-ophthalmologist.
After an MRI and other tests, I got my diagnosis -- meningioma, a noncancerous tumor, on my optic nerve. The doctor said the tumor was inoperable and recommended targeted radiation.
Because meningioma is slow-growing, the doctor also recommended waiting a month for another MRI.
Continue reading My meningioma surgery: Appreciating the gift of sight .
Whether you're a patient or a caregiver, cancer treatment is stressful. But our social work counselors can help.
At MD Anderson, each patient is assigned to a social work counselor. These licensed clinical social workers help patients, their family and friends cope with cancer. They also can help you deal with psychological or social concerns you face during and after treatment.
Here are a few ways our social work counselors can help.
Continue reading 5 ways our social work counselors can help during cancer treatment.