Cancer -- the Great Leveler
By now it was early December, and I'd gone back to work. Like most people I know who have faced their own mortality, I wanted to turn back the clock, to make everything the way it was before. I just wanted to be a normal person living a normal life.I started chemotherapy the day after Christmas. With Lois at my side, I proceeded to the chemo floor of Memorial Sloan-Kettering, where dozens of people showed up for their own infusion of the toxins that might save them. In the three hours I waited, I saw something that still sustains me.
There were men and women with and without hair, limbs, or someone to talk to. No one complained; no one disturbed the peace. They were, as I have learned about cancer patients everywhere, incredibly nice. And patient. Everyone smiled -- not the brave little smile of the doomed, not the fake smile of the partygoer -- but the tolerant and knowing smile of experience. Cancer is a great leveler, and I was proud to be in their midst. I went for chemo about once a week.
I also had regular blood tests to check my white blood cell count. Yes, I got fatigued at times and very sick at one point -- vomiting, diarrhea, chills and fever. After I was treated for an infection, my chemo resumed. All in all, it lasted seven months.
On the morning of July 24, 1998, I arrived for my final treatment. My vital signs were "all perfect," according to the nurse. I'd gone alone, telling family and friends that I wanted no ceremonies, no celebration. I just wanted it over.
As the nurse removed the IV and said good-bye, I gathered up my belongings. And as I walked along the corridors of the hospital, I burst into tears.
"The highest risk for recurrence is within three years from surgery," Dr. Kelsen told me. "Then the curve flattens. Your risk of recurrence is small, but it's there. You'll have CT scans every six months, chest x-rays at least annually. We'll take your blood every two or three months the first year." Unfortunately, he said, there's no reliable blood test to determine the presence of colon cancer.
For a time I didn't want to talk about cancer anymore, didn't want to be the poster girl for survival. But I decided to tell my story to warn others that, with proper screening, they might not have to endure the same discomfort (and scare) I did. Then came a story I could not resist.
In the fall of 1998, Darryl Strawberry, at the time a star slugger with the New York Yankees (formerly with the New York Mets), was diagnosed with colon cancer. In an eerie coincidence, he was following in the footsteps of his oldest baseball rival -- Baltimore Orioles outfielder Eric Davis, his boyhood pal from South Central Los Angeles. Davis had been diagnosed in the spring of 1997, after a headline-making surge when he batted .560 and was named American League player of the week.
My producer and I traveled to Florida for spring training to interview the two players; the story aired on 20/20 on April 12, 1999. As I wrote in our online ABC chat room, "All three of us acknowledged the way this brush with death changes your perceptions of the world. For these two superstars, life isn't just about baseball anymore. It's about being alive."
On-camera Eric Davis said, "My job is to create the awareness that screening is so, so important. It's not a black disease. It's not a white disease."
"It's not male or female," I added.
"And it's something," Eric went on, "that, if you get detected early enough, can save your life."
Americans ages 50 and older should be tested regularly. Check with your doctor about the best options for you. Most of all, don't shy away from screening because you think you're too healthy or because you're not in a risk group.
In November 2002 I passed the five-year mark. In March 2005 Dr. Kelsen kicked me out of his office. "The risk of recurrence after eight years is low," he told me. "Get blood work, chest x-rays and a mammogram. See you in a year." It felt great to be considered normal again.
From Reader's Digest - October 2006
"OUTSIDE THE BOX: A MEMOIR," COPYRIGHT 2006 BY LYNN SHERR, IS PUBLISHED AT $25.95 BY RODALE, 733 THIRD AVE., NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10017


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