Who wouldn't be shocked? Cancer is something that happens to old people or sometimes little kids, but not someone who looks healthy, vibrant and in the prime of her life, right?
Guess again. Nearly 70,000 young adults in their 20s and 30s are diagnosed with cancer every year, according to the National Cancer Institute (NCI). In fact, cancer is the third leading cause of death among 20-to-39-year olds after accidents and homicide. In recognition of Young Adult Cancer Awareness Week (April 5-12), we spoke to some younger cancer survivors to get an idea of how life changes when you're young, vibrant, and suddenly stricken.
As if the usual young adult struggles to find their own path in life isn't hard enough, suddenly one day cancer comes along and throws a big monkey wrench into the works -- their sex drive, social life and career all take a hit. Moreover, they often feel isolated, finding themselves in the doctor's office with people twice their age, few of whom can relate to what they're going through. And most are wholly unprepared to deal with the often confusing and expensive health care and insurance systems. So just what do you do when life is interrupted just as it's getting started? According the folks we talked to, the only thing you can -- deal with it.
Speed Bump
When Wieck broke the news to her friends, they were as shocked as she was. It didn't seem possible that someone so bubbly and personable could be stricken with cancer. Solidifying the cruel and ironic timing of it all, just a week after her diagnosis, she graduated from UNC-Charlotte with a marketing degree.
"I had a great boyfriend, a great family, I was excited about graduating college and starting my career, and now I had cancer," Wieck says. "It didn't seem real."
Wieck started cancer treatments in January, going to chemotherapy every other Monday. She's like many patients in that the treatment often seems worse than the disease. During the weeks she receives chemo she's queasy and tired, and over the months has lost some of her hair.
One bright spot in all this is that Wieck had a job interview scheduled at a marketing firm the week after her diagnosis. Not knowing what her future held, she called the company and explained her situation, and begged off from the interview, saying she didn't want to waste their time. Much to her surprise, they urged her to come in anyway. It turned out the CEO of the company was in the middle of receiving chemo for the same kind of cancer, and she was hired on the spot.
Wieck is scheduled to finish chemotherapy treatments in June. She's lucky in that her form of Hodgkin's has a 95 percent cure rate, and because she is young and otherwise healthy, is expected to make a full recovery.
"I was going full force when this hit me," she says. "And honestly, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of feeling sick. I'm sick of people asking me how I feel. But I know this is just a speed bump in my life, and I'll soon be going full-speed again."
Life Doesnt End
Cheri Lofquist was in Michigan visiting her family for Christmas when she noticed a small lump on her breast while trying on clothes at a department store. She didn't think much of it, but figured she'd have it checked out when she got back to Charlotte. She had a series of tests and exams, as well as a biopsy. The following week while she was driving to lunch, her doctor called with the diagnosis: breast cancer.
"I pulled into a Circle K and just started bawling," says Lofquist, a schoolteacher. "I was in shock."
At just 36, Lofquist is relatively young to have breast cancer. Although about 216,000 women in the United States will be found to have invasive breast cancer this year, the majority will be over 50.
Within days of getting the diagnosis, Lofquist had a mastectomy. "The surgery only took about 50 minutes," Lofquist recalls, fighting back tears. "I really wasn't in a great deal of pain. But after my mom left, and I was standing in front of the mirror, and I had this big bandage on...I was like what's happened to me? Am I even a person anymore? A part of me was gone."
But Lofquist says she quickly pulled herself together, and readied herself for a fight. She admits it hasn't been easy, particularly when she goes to doctors' appointments and most of the other cancer patients are twice her age.
"I feel like I shouldn't be there," she says.
Lofquist started chemotherapy this month, and plans to have reconstructive surgery as soon as possible. "I'm extremely positive about the future," she says. "Sometimes I even catch myself and wonder if I'm being too positive -- I mean, I do have breast cancer. But I've got a great group of friends here and they're extremely supportive. I'm working on my Ph.D., I teach school, I have my real estate license, and I work out four times a week. Life doesn't end."
Take Nothing for Granted
David Frost thought someone had stabbed him. He was at a business convention in New Orleans, when suddenly a sharp, intense pain exploded in his back, dropping him to his knees. For months Frost had been experiencing pain between his shoulder blades, but nothing like this. He managed to make it back to his hotel room, and caught the first plane back to Charlotte.
"By then the pain was unbearable," Frost says. "I had to get someone to take me to the hospital."
Doctors performed a series of tests, and found a tumor about the size of a fist in David's upper back near his shoulder. In addition, doctors also found tumors in his groin as well. It turned out to be leukemia, which attacks the bone marrow and increases one's susceptibility to infection and blood clotting. Frost was just 30 years old.
He spent the next nine months in the hospital, during which time he received chemotherapy treatments and contracted several different infections. It all wreaked havoc on his body; he went from 175 pounds to 116.
Frost was finally released from the hospital in February 2003. By then his muscles had atrophied. "I couldn't even get out of bed," Frost says. "When I left the hospital they took me out in a wheelchair."
Because Frost was too weak to climb stairs, he was confined to the bottom floor of his townhouse while he recovered, sleeping on the couch and bathing in the downstairs half-bath. Although he had his family and some close friends for support, Frost says some relationships suffered because of his cancer.
"There were a couple of people -- good friends, really -- who didn't know how to take it, and they just kind of stayed away."
Frost had also been romantically involved when he was diagnosed with cancer, and eventually the relationship became a casualty of his illness as well. "She helped me out so much when I was sick, but our relationship was relatively new and in that initial "everything is great' period," Frost says. "But . . .her role changed from girlfriend to more of a caregiver. So when I got better it became hard to reverse that role. You want to wish for happy endings, but cancer is something that can definitely tear people apart."
While David is regaining his strength and health, he continues to battle infections, and still appears fragile and fatigued.
"Before I was diagnosed I was training for the New York City marathon," he says. "Now, I can run maybe half a block and my heart is beating out of my chest. I'm happy that I escaped cancer, but it's hard not to feel that it's unfair. I don't want to be satisfied with a sub-standard life. I plan on working harder than ever before to be better than what I was. I'll never take my well-being for granted."
One in a Million
It started out with what she thought were simply sinus infections. Then came the nosebleeds. The first series of tests came back normal. But then her lymph nodes swelled up. She was sent to a specialist, more tests were done, and a biopsy was performed.
"The doctor came in looking very sad, and I thought what in the world is going on," says Raelaine Simmons, who was 28 at the time. "He said it came back malignant. I said malignant, that means cancer, right? It just went right over my head. I mean, cancer was the last thing I was expecting."
Simmons was diagnosed with nasopharyngeal carcinoma, a rare form of cancer that attacks the nasal cavity, mouth and throat, and mostly occurs in elderly Asian men. As a black female, the chance of Simmons getting this kind of cancer was literally one in a million.
"I had my little cry, but then got myself together," says Simmons, who works for an accounting firm.
Simmons started chemotherapy treatments in November 2002 followed by radiation. Already a thin woman, the cancer treatments were particularly hard on Simmons, who at one point was down to 97 pounds. She was out of commission for five months.
Simmons finished her cancer treatments about a year ago, and has since been given a clean bill of health. She says the experience has both tested and strengthened her faith.
"I did question God as to why me," says Simmons. "But now my faith has deepened, and it might sound weird, but this whole experience has had a positive influence in my life. It's all behind me now, and I feel good about the future."
Contact Sam Boykin at sam.boykin@cln.com or 704-944-3623.
