Lucy Tobias

Cancer survivors are here for the long haul, living each day and counting.

At a Relay for Life last weekend, their names were announced and the time they’ve been cancer free – one month, one year, five years, 20 years. The crowd went wild, cheering each survival time. Every moment counts.

One by one they stepped forward to receive a white sash. They each wore a purple T-shirt with “I’m a survivor” in big white letters on the back.

A Relay for Life lasts 24 hours. Relays happen all over the world. Groups commit to walking a route as a way to raise money for cancer research. The walkers bring tents, sleeping bags, folding chairs. The track will never be empty. People walk all through the night.

Relays start in the afternoon. Survivors take the first lap, a victory lap. On this day, at Trinity Catholic High School track in Ocala, the high school honor guard that brought in the flag stepped out in front to lead the victory lap. Families gathered with cameras to snap pictures as survivors walked by, smiling, waving.

It was an emotional moment. I felt there should have been more than an honor guard. Maybe flower girls throwing rose petals in front of their path and a boom box playing “Chariots of Fire”. Being a survivor is a really big deal for them, their families, their caregivers, doctors, nurses, scientists looking for a cure, heck, everybody. They are walking rays of light, radiating hope that someday cancer will be eliminated.

Here’s one survivor story:
“I had a small spot on the back of neck,” said John Bell of Ocala. “My wife Cindy was worried about it, said let’s go see a dermatologist, which we did.”

A biopsy led to surgery, which led to chemotherapy.

“That was 5.8 years ago,” John said. “My last check was two months ago and I’m clear.”

Cindy took pictures as John walked by. Then she turned away and broke down, sobbing. A friend encircled her with a hug.

Cancer rips apart every plan you had for your days. It gives cruel meaning to the words “Life is what happens while you are making other plans.”

Elfriede Harris of Ocala can attest to that.

“I’m an oncology nurse,” Elfriede told me after the victory lap. “About five years ago I kept having a harsh voice, it wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t sore, there was no pain. I went to see a doctor and he said ‘oh, you have a nodule there.’ “

She stops talking and looks at me.

“You know, it is a terrible thing to say to an oncology nurse ‘you have a nodule’.” Being a nurse means you know way too much. Painting worst-case scenarios comes easily.

At first, things seemed to go well. The initial biopsy came back fine. “I was being diligent, I went back for a six-month checkup,” Elfride recalled.

The nodule had gotten bigger. Surgery followed. It was caner. A second surgery ensued, then six weeks of internal radiation.

“I couldn’t even swallow water,” Elfride said.

Consider this – until the cancer came into her life, Elfride had never been off of work except for childbirth.

“I was home for nine weeks,” Elflride said. “What was supposed to be a simple thing turned out to be very long. Thank God for my doctor, my family, my friends.”

That’s the part that numbers don’t tell you. The diagnosis of cancer ripples out and touches the lives of everyone connected to a cancer patient. Moms like Elfride who used to take care of everyone, now find that she is the one receiving care.

There are no shortcuts when facing cancer. The treatments are long and painful.

Brother Andrew, principal at Trinity Catholic, spoke of this during his invocation:
“God, we ask you for the gift of restored health for all people who have cancer. We ask you to be near those who suffer in times of weakness and pain and inspire with your love, those who bring healing and care to cancer patients – family members, loved ones, physicians, nurses, many volunteers, Hospice workers.”

Somehow, we’re all bonded in this cancer fight, we are all in this together, including the scientists looking for better early detection methods and, hopefully, a cure for cancer.

Men and women in North America (that means you and me) have the highest cancer incidence worldwide and lung cancer is the main cancer in the world today. That is sobering.

We may not be the ones to find a cancer cure, but nothing is stopping you and me from getting out there, finding an upcoming Relay for Life, and walking the walk.

Follow in the footsteps of survivors – the ones wearing purple shirts and smiling. They are cancer free, and counting.

—————————————————————-
For further reference:
www.americancancersociety.org then click on “getting involved” and under Relay for Life, type in your zip code to find events coming up near you.