It’s that exciting time of year that many people are making resolutions related to self-improvement and ways to affect positive, meaningful change in our communities. Why not commit to becoming a lung cancer advocate in 2019?
Today, January 12, 2019 is National Glazed Donut Day and the day after my most recent post-scan appointment with my oncologist, a day when, if I'm lucky - as I have been for the past 10 years, my world will change - for the better (donut consumption notwithstanding). However, the 'world' to which I refer is one fraught with danger and offers no more guarantees than I've been accustomed to.
The holidays are a time to celebrate, but oftentimes they can also be a time of stress as we try to create the perfect celebration. Organizing holiday festivities, bringing together family and friends, decorating, shopping, cooking, hosting—the list goes on! It can all be very demanding, and adding lung cancer to the mix adds even more pressure.
Most people have no idea what a biomarker is. However, biomarkers, and biomarker testing, can be crucial to quality of life and life expectancy for some lung cancer survivors. Biomarker testing is why I can take one pill a day as a treatment for my cancer.
By Meliha Pudilović, Team LUNGevity Runner, November 28, 2018
Just two weeks prior to delivering my first daughter, Lejla, I learned my maternal grandfather, Ehrem, was diagnosed with lung cancer. Due to the aggressiveness of the cancer, the doctors anticipated my grandpa would only live for another six to nine months. Unfortunately, our time was cut drastically, as my grandpa Ehrem passed away on Aug 14, 2013, just shy of two months after being diagnosed.
Now that I'm back to every-three-week-chemotherapy infusions, getting through the "holiday" season becomes very tricky. One week delay due to unacceptable lab results can have a cascade effect on one's ability to spread any cheer. And given that I'm scheduled to be infused rather aggressively, a direct result of tumor growth indicated on my most recent CT scan, delaying an infusion to accommodate my non-chemotherapy schedule seems like a non starter. After all, we're trying to keep me alive here.
I was a busy suburban working mom putting my energy into my job, my family, my friends, and trying to lead a healthy lifestyle. I exercised routinely. I never smoked. I drank a glass of wine now and then.
In 2016, I started a new job as an attorney at Expedia. I was delighted with the interesting workload and my amazing new coworkers. I was learning about travel. I was learning a new job. I started to cough.
With apologies to Simon and Garfunkel: burping, hiccuping, coughing, "expectorating," wheezing, sneezing, sniffling, nose running, nose bleeding, nose blowing, "gassing," gurgling and "nauseating." If this were football, I'd likely receive a penalty for piling on: too much not of a good thing. For me, it's just another day in cancer's side-effect paradise. For my wife, Dina, however, it's more difficult; caught in the crossfire, so to speak. Aside from how cancer makes you look and feel, there is also an element of how it makes you sound.
By Lacey Woodring, Team LUNGevity Runner, November 6, 2018
I chose to join Team LUNGevity in honor of my mother. My mom was diagnosed with stage I lung cancer in 2010. She was never much of a smoker, maybe recreational when we were younger. They said her cancer may have been caused by environmental factors, such as inhaling aerosols in the shop where she worked.
As I sit and attempt to write next week's column, I do so on Saturday, October 27. Aside from being my close friend, Cheryl's, birthday, and the day before my brother, Richard's, birthday, it is a date (the 27th), to invoke our 32nd President, Franklin D. Roosevelt, that "will live in infamy." It is the date that Team Lourie, such as it is: my wife, Dina; my brother, Richard; and yours truly, met my oncologist for the first time to learn what my previous week's "malignant" biopsy actually meant. What it meant was that I was officially a cancer patient.