Women’s Basketball advocates for cancer research

St. Mary’s women’s basketball did more than play the game against Marymount University Feb. 5; they played their part in the fight against cancer.

To show their advocacy for cancer research, both men and women’s basketball teams sported white warm-ups with cancer support ribbons, and encouraged the crowd to wear white in an effort to “white out cancer.”

Combined, the St. Mary’s basketball teams raised close to $700 to donate to charity.

Raising money for cancer research had a special meaning for the team, as most of the women have known someone who has lost their life to cancer or is a cancer survivor.

Sophomore Pui Sham’s family was affected by the disease when her aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer ten years ago.

Her aunt opted for a mastectomy instead of chemotherapy, and after surviving breast cancer, was later diagnosed with kidney cancer. Sham’s aunt then underwent chemotherapy, and is now a proud cancer survivor.

“Now, she’s alive and well,” Sham said. “My aunt Brenda is one of the very few people I know who has survived cancer and twice at that. I am glad to be doing my part to help other people like my aunt.”

The team’s season has been as successful as their contributions to cancer research – with eleven wins on the record, seven of which have been in the Capital Athletic Conference (CAC).

In their first game in the fight to “white out cancer” the women’s team led 35-26 against Marymount University at halftime, but lost by a mere four points at the completion of the game.

Despite the loss, senior Jamie Roberts scored 20 points, her third over 20 point game of the season. First-year Shana Lewis contributed with 12 points.

The Seahawks women’s basketball team continued to don their white warm-ups when they took their support to Salisbury on Wednesday Feb. 9.

After a narrow loss to Salisbury earlier in the season, the team was able to come back and earn a win. With seconds left in the game Roberts scored on a layup and put the Seahawks ahead 61-60.

“Our win against Salisbury could help us earn a spot for the CAC playoffs depending on how we do in the remaining games of the regular season,” Sham said.

“Hopefully the momentum we got from this win will continue to carry over for us. The end of season doesn’t seem very clear just yet, but we’re going to take it one game at a time.”

On Saturday, the St. Mary’s women’s basketball team celebrated their senior game. The sole senior, Roberts, is a key player and leader of the team. Roberts reminisced about her time at St. Mary’s.

“During my four years here, I can say that each team has been totally different,” Roberts said.

“I’ve been on the team when we had eight players and had to beg soccer and baseball boys to come practice with us so we could scrimmage – and now to be on a team with 13 girls has made a big difference.”

“Despite me being the only upperclassman I think the success that we’ve had so far this year is proof of the talent we have.

We’ve had several games that we’ve lost by one to four points, which shows that we’ve been competitive in all of our CAC games – we just need to figure out how to be able to get it done and come out on top.”

While standing at an 11-11 spread after the Feb. 9 game, the Seahawks remain at a 11-12 total record after a heartbreaking  62-59 loss to Wesley College during Senior Day on Feb. 12.

While Roberts reached a career-high of 23 points during the game, it was not enough to best the female Wolverines.

The Seahawks women’s basketball team is still looking forward to ongoing success for the remainder of the season and plan to continue to take their fight against cancer out on the court.

Victorious End to JAG’s Journey

Wearing a neon pink wig and a bright pink sweater, I walked into the office of Chesapeake and Potomac Regional Cancer Center on Wednesday, Dec.15, 2010 for my final radiation treatment for breast cancer.

My appointment was for 3:30 p.m. When I walked in at 3:15 p.m., the waiting room was full of patients. Usually, there are only one or two other people waiting for treatment when I walk in. The receptionist told me that the radiation machine was not working properly and the technician was on his way, but my procedure would be delayed. Really? On my last day? Give me a break!

My husband and I had dinner reservations for that night to celebrate the end of radiation. It had been quite a journey from that day near the end of July when I discovered the lump in my left breast to this day.

I underwent two breast surgeries to remove the dreaded lump and some lymph nodes to check for the possibility of the disease spreading to other body parts; various scans of my bones, organs, breasts, and brain which required contrasting dyes, radioactive dyes, and laying inside claustrophobic tubes; two types of genetic tests; countless blood draws; and a little problem that was discovered with my liver. I was anxious to finish this part of my journey.

The highlight of this long awaited day was the reaction I got from the other patients and the staff members. Every single person at the center grinned or laughed out loud when they saw me.

After all, I was quite a sight! It brought me extreme pleasure to be able to bring some laughter and a moment of lightheartedness to the other patients, some of whom I had never met and others whom I had never seen smile during the six weeks that I was undergoing treatment. The mood in the waiting room instantly changed when I sat down.

I was finally called in for my treatment. I changed into my hospital gown and proceeded into the treatment room. My wig caused the three staff members working with me to laugh. They took a picture of me standing in front of the radiation machine.

At last, I got on the table, got zapped, and I was done. At 5:06 p.m., I was cancer-free and a proud breast cancer survivor!

My six weeks of radiation (five days a week for six weeks) were not too difficult. The treatment involved getting a few pinpoint-sized tattoos that helped the technicians line up the machine each day.

I laid on a movable table and got into a prescribed position (my right hand rested under my right butt cheek, my left arm rested in a “cradle” at a high, out-of-the-way position to allow for the radiation beam to hit my breast at the correct angle while my head was turned toward the right wall of the room).

Radiation itself does not hurt at all. It is just like getting an x-ray at the doctor’s office. However, instead of getting a one-second “zap” of radiation, for the first five weeks, my treatment involved getting two 20-second “zaps” while the machine was in one position, then it moved to a second position and I got two more 20-second “zaps.”

For the last week of radiation, I got a few more pinpoint tattoos because they had to line up the machine differently. For the last five days, I got one 40-second zap directed at the surgical site.

The side effects from radiation were not too bad. I started getting a nice suntan the second week of treatment, but by the end it turned into a bad sunburn that covered my entire breast to my left underarm.

My skin got very dry and rough (and then it started peeling), and was sensitive to the touch. I experienced significant (for me!) fatigue. I got home from treatment each day, took a nap before dinner and was in bed before 8:00 p.m.

At the time of this writing, my tan is almost gone, my skin has returned to normal, and I am almost back to my normal energy level. The good news is I have not had to shave my left underarm for weeks, thanks to radiation!

Friends, colleagues, and family members went the extra mile for me and my family during those six weeks. People volunteered to drive me to and from radiation and prepared meals for us during the week. I am so grateful to everyone for those kindnesses!

I recently started taking Tamoxifen, a hormone therapy medication that blocks the effects of estrogen in the breast (it is not the same as hormone replacement therapy used in association with menopause).

I will have to take this for the next five years to reduce the likelihood of recurrence. Side effects include fatigue, increased intensity and frequency of hot flashes (TRUE!), possible hair loss, clots, headaches, nausea, skin rashes, and vision changes.

Because of some liver problems that were discovered as result of the blood tests I started getting in September, my liver has to be closely monitored while I am on the medication, which means I will have to have regular blood tests for a while.

And I have to give up alcohol for the foreseeable future. I am scheduled to have a screening mammogram and diagnostic sonogram on Feb. 3. Because I have very dense breast tissue, I must also get sonograms to catch whatever the mammograms may miss. You can bet I will keep up with these diagnostic tests and follow-up appointments with my team of doctors!

I hope you will join me at the College community’s Relay for Life on Saturday, Feb. 26 from 6:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. in the Michael P. O’Brien Athletic and Recreation Center. This year’s Relay will be a cancer-fighting good time! I can’t wait to walk in the survivor lap! To join a team or donate, please go to http://www.relayforlife.org/smcm.

I am a very fortunate person. I had little “c” because I did not need chemotherapy. My cancer was caught early, thank goodness, and that made all the difference in the world. I am not the same person I was on July 28, 2010. Believe it or not, I am actually glad that I went through this experience.

My life has been forever changed for the better. I have a different perspective on what is important to me. I appreciate my family, colleagues, and friends much more. I know the value of good health and will never again take it for granted.

I am deeply grateful to the College community for your outpouring of support. You kept my spirits up during some scary, dark moments last semester. My personal motto from the musical Pippin has even greater meaning to me now: “Don’t you see I want my life to be something more than long?”

As I said before, cancer is treatable and beatable! Thank you for joining me on this incredible journey!

JAG’s Battle With Cancer: We Are Going to Fight This Together

I went to work that morning, believing that everything would be alright.

Based on the research I had done on two reputable sites (http://ww5.komen.org/IWasDiagnosed/IveBeenDiagnosedwithBreastCancer.html?itc=emoentpnt:1 and www.cancer.org), I knew that 80% of biopsies are negative for cancer.

Since I am in pretty good shape for a 50-year old; I eat right, I exercise, my weight is good, and I have no family history for breast cancer, surely I would be in that 80% group.

I was surprised by the number of women I talked with in a short period of time who had either had lumpectomies that were negative or knew of relatives or friends who had one that was negative. These were good signs.

The outpatient surgery went well. I even came to campus on Tuesday morning to teach my sign language class (after all, I didn’t want the students in my two classes to suffer because of some stupid lump).

I left campus after class and returned to work full-time on Wednesday. I was sore, but felt pretty good.

My life is divided between BC and AC. September 6 and before are Before Cancer (BC) and September 7 and afterwards are After Cancer (AC). I taught my classes on the morning of Sep. 7 and then my husband and I went to visit with Dr. Fritz.

She checked her surgical handiwork, told me I was healing nicely, and then dropped the bomb that has changed my life.

For the record, I have infiltrating, moderately differentiated, ductal carcinoma in association with ductal carcinoma in situ. (In layperson’s terms, that means that the cancer spread beyond my milk ducts and into the surrounding breast tissue.)

She talked at us for what I think was about 20 or 25 minutes. I was so numb, I couldn’t even cry (which is totally unlike me!).

I remember sending an e-mail to colleagues in Res. Life and the Dean’s office letting them know that the news was not what I wanted to hear; that I did, in fact, have cancer and I was not coming back to work that afternoon.

I remember telling my brothers (who were uncharacteristically shocked into silence) and my sisters-in-law (who took the news with lots of questions). I remember telling my 85-year old father that afternoon and hearing him cry softly on the phone.

I remember calling my stepsons in Wisconsin and North Carolina and telling my third stepson when he came home from his first day of classes at CSM.

I called other friends and family and started to get comfortable with the phrase, “I have breast cancer.” I was still thinking however, “OH MY GOD!!! THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!!!”

Fast forward to September 8. I decided to go to work because the world does not stop simply because another woman has been diagnosed with breast cancer.
I needed to get out of the house and keep my mind busy.

I gave details to the Res. Life staff and my boss, and then started telling colleagues and friends. I believe in the power of positive thinking, so I shared the bad news and the good news. The good news is that I AM GOING TO BE A SURVIVOR!

I needed those around me to believe this as much as I did. And they came through for me.

The messages of support that I received from students, faculty, and staff on campus, and from family, friends, and colleagues from the around the world have given me tremendous strength and hope. I truly believe that my cancer is not only treatable, it is BEATABLE!

In the last two weeks, I have gone through a bone scan, a PET scan, and an MRI (which all show that the cancer has not spread to my bones or major organs). I have had contrasting dye and radioactive material injected into me. I have had blood work done.

I had a second surgery on Sep. 24 to remove some additional tissue (in order to get a “clear margin” which means a cancer-free area around where the original tumor was located) and to check my lymph nodes (so far, there is no cancer in my lymph nodes).

Because I opted for breast-saving surgery (the lumpectomy) rather than a mastectomy, I have to have radiation.

I will also need to take hormonal therapy (medication) for five to 10 years to help reduce the likelihood of recurrence.

My medical team now includes a surgeon, a medical oncologist, and a radiation oncologist.

I’m meeting with the radiation oncologist on Sep. 29 and hope to find out when I can start my treatment, which will consist of radiation Mondays through Fridays for six weeks.

The surgeon will remove the staples under my arm (from the removal of a lymph node) on Oct. 1. I’ll meet with the medical oncologist on Oct. 11 and will hopefully be told at that time whether or not I will have to go through chemotherapy.

I hope I don’t have to get chemo, but if I do, I’m going to get some outstanding wigs! My life is a whirlwind of medical appointments. Thank goodness I have lots of sick leave.

I remember when Leon and I were alone in the surgeon’s office after being told the news. He told me that there must be some reason why someone as healthy as I am could have gotten cancer.

He said that somewhere, in the cosmos, someone really wanted and needed an outspoken person to educate our campus community on cancer and taking care of yourself, and who better than a feisty, New Yorker like me?

I am in good company. As noted by Lillie Shockney in the book, “Navigating Breast Cancer” (2007), I am joining over 2 million women in the US who have survived breast cancer. “Seventy percent of women diagnosed with breast cancer have no known risk factors for getting the disease and approximately 12% of women diagnosed with breast cancer have a family history of the disease.”

Generally speaking, a tumor that has grown to 1 cm has likely been there for several years. Are you aware that you cannot “catch” cancer from touching or hugging someone (so don’t be afraid to hug me on my right side!)?

Did you know that men can and do get breast cancer?

According to the American Cancer Society Web site (http://www.cancer.org), while women are 100 times more likely to get breast cancer, 1,970 men will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year. The lifetime risk for men to get breast cancer is 1 in 1000.

Many people get radiation and chemo confused. According to “Your Guide to Breast Cancer Treatment” (www.breastcancer.org), radiation does not typically cause a person to lose their hair, feel nauseous, or be at a higher risk for breast cancer in the other breast.

Some of the side effects of radiation include feeling tired, skin irritation, and soreness and swelling in the breast and chest area.

These side effects typically go away weeks or months after treatment ends. “Radiation is done in case some of the cancer cells are still there after surgery.”

Chemo is a systemic treatment rather than a local treatment (radiation is a local treatment). “Chemotherapy attacks all the cells in your body that are fast-growing. Cancer cells tend to grow fast.”

Some of the side effects of chemo include nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, mouth sores, tiredness, hair loss, taste and smell changes, aches and discomforts, and higher risk of infection.

However, thanks to research and development, medication is available to take away or reduce many of the side effects (www.breastcancer.org).

I am participating in the BSU/Bon Appétit Breast Cancer Awareness Day on October 29 (as part of Breast Awareness Month) and in our campus Relay for Life on February 26, 2011. I believe it is important to pay it forward.

People before me donated time and money to help make it possible for me to fight this disease and have a better chance of surviving, so I will do the same so that perhaps others yet to come can have an even easier time fighting it or maybe they won’t have to fight it at all! I hope you will join me!

I am being very open about what is happening to me because I want to help others.

This in turn, is helping me. Part of my initial fear was of the unknown. Knowledge is power and sharing knowledge is education.

At the heart of it, I am an educator and I want to help all members of our community to be comfortable with their bodies. Get to know and listen to your body. Be an active participant with your doctors. If something does not feel or look right, get it checked!

If you smoke, please try to quit. Exercise and eating right are important to your long-term health. Staying positive, having a good sense of humor, and a strong support system of family, friends, and colleagues really help in times of crisis.

For anyone facing the fear of cancer, please know that I am here to provide you with assistance.

I cannot begin to thank my family, friends, and the students, faculty, and staff at SMCM for being part of my support system.

While I wish I didn’t have cancer, I am truly amazed and deeply humbled by the outpouring of love and good will that I am getting.
As my husband told me, “The cancer is inside of you, but this is a ‘we’ effort. We are going to fight this together.”

I am expanding the “we” to include many of you. You are truly making a difference in my life and I will be forever grateful to you.

JAG’s Battle With Cancer: And So It Began…

“I have good news and bad news.” And so it began.

Dr. Kelly Fritz, my surgeon, matter-of-factly continued. “The bad news is that you have breast cancer. The good news is that it was small, only 1.2 cm and I think we caught it early.”

My mind went blank. Thank goodness my husband, Leon, was with me to hear what she said after that (something about greater than 95% chance of still having a long and full life, blah, blah, blah).

No one, man, woman, or child, wants to hear the words, “you have cancer.” It is unbelievably scary, overwhelming, and devastating at first. It is life changing, and can be life affirming.
My new journey with cancer actually started on Monday, July 26. A colleague casually bumped up against me and the books in my arms pressed up against my chest.

I suddenly had an unusual tingling in my left breast that stayed with me for a good three minutes. How odd. The same thing happened a few days later, on Thursday, July 29. That tingling felt like pins and needles. That’s fine if your foot or hand falls asleep; it is not fine when it is your breast.

That night, I tried to find a reason for the tingling. And so it began. A lump between the 6:00 and 7:00 position on my lower, left breast. My husband felt it too. I called my gynecologist’s office the next day and scheduled an appointment for August 3. When I met with him, I couldn’t find the lump at first, but when I laid down on the exam table, I found it quickly. So did he.

He gave me two options: I could “wait and see” what happens since it was likely to be a cyst, or, for my peace of mind, I could get a comprehensive/diagnostic mammogram and sonogram. The difference between a diagnostic exam and my regular annual mammogram was that I would be scheduled when the radiologist would be available to read my tests immediately.

Thank goodness I went for the diagnostic exam instead of the “wait and see” option.

On August 19, right in the midst of Residence Life staff training, I went to St. Mary’s Hospital for the tests. I am familiar with the diagnostic imaging center because I have been going there for years for my annual mammograms (which I admit are a little uncomfortable, but they really do not hurt).

This time felt different however. I was admittedly nervous. The mammogram was done quickly and then I went for the sonogram (which does not hurt; it is just a little messy from the goo they use). After using the wand for a few minutes, the technician found what she was looking for and I could see it too: a small, dark oblong spot in the middle of the screen.

She left and returned with the lead technician and they started doing measurements on the screen. After some quiet conversation between the two of them, I was told I could get dressed and either leave and get the results in the mail, or wait while the radiologist finished a procedure and then she could meet with me. I waited.

Twenty minutes later, the radiologist called me in. We stood in front of several lit up x-rays. She showed me my mammogram from my last exam in January and compared it with the one that was just taken. I couldn’t see anything unusual, nor could she. She went on to tell me that because I have very dense breast tissue, there was nothing visible in the mammograms. However, the sonogram was a different story.

There, clear as a bell, was the lump. She didn’t have to point it out to me. I naively asked if it was a cyst and she quickly replied, “Oh no. This definitely is not a cyst. I recommend that you get a biopsy.” That was the first time my brain shut down. I was so hoping that it was just a cyst. What are you telling me?!?!

I wept on my way home that afternoon and I admit I had a stiff drink when I got there. I called my husband as I left the hospital and he came right home. This was not the news I was expecting.

My gynecologist called me a couple of hours later and confirmed what the radiologist told me. He offered me the names of two general surgeons so I could try to make an appointment ASAP for the biopsy.

The next day, I called Dr. Fritz’s office having gotten several good references about her. Leon and I met with her on August 25 and she recommended a lumpectomy. Based on our conversation, she knew that I wanted that lump, which did not belong inside of me, out of me. The biopsy would be performed on the tissue they extracted. Surgery was scheduled for Monday, August 30; the first day of classes.

Above is only part of the story. Pick up our next issue for more Joanne Goldwater’s struggle with breast cancer.