Dear Family and Friends,
It has been a while since we’ve communicated in this way. To
be exact, I ended my blog “Notes From Sareana” on December 17, 2009, one year
after I was diagnosed with brain cancer. Here is an excerpt from that entry:
“This past year has reminded me how
fragile my health really is. I write about how much better I'm doing, but the
reality is that could change quickly. I have to live with cancer on a very real
level each and every day of my life. The chance of recurrence is a true
possibility and I must acknowledge that and be ready for it. So how does one
prepare for cancer's return? The best way I've found is to accept that with the
support of friends and family I can get through anything…I'm not going to cower
from this disease, I will stand strong and believe in a bright future.”
And a bright future I have had! Here are some of the
highlights of one busy mama: Erin and I had another baby boy named Dean who is
now 3 1/2 years old. Alex, age 7, will be entering second grade this Fall; I
earned my Masters in Elementary Education; our family moved from Portland,
Oregon to Fort Collins, Colorado; I’ve ridden my bike countless miles and
competed in a time trial up Vail Pass for fun; I substitute taught at a
wonderful elementary school in Fort Collins this past school year; I was
offered a job at that same elementary school to teach 2nd grade.
Part of what gave me the confidence to move forward in my life both on a
personal and professional level was that I released the fear that cancer could
return at any time and chose to live my life on my terms, not cancer’s. So, it
is with a heavy heart that I begin “Notes From Sareana” again today because
after six and a half years cancer has indeed returned.
However, before starting new notes, I thought I would recap
here what took place in 2008-2009 as a reminder of where my story begins…
In May 2008, my eldest son, Alexander, was born in Phoenix,
Arizona. At 31 years old, I had just finished my third year of teaching fourth
grade. The plan was to return to school part-time in the fall as an
administrative assistant, which is what I did until November when my world was
turned upside down. For a month I had been having acute, severe headaches
located in the back of my head toward my neck, but strangely they were only at
night. I attributed the headaches to being an exhausted new mom, but they
continued to get worse over time. I finally went to see a doctor the Wednesday
before Thanksgiving when my family was in town visiting. After I told the
doctor my symptoms (dizziness, nighttime headaches) she said she’d like to have
me get an MRI that evening. The MRI unexpectedly revealed that I had a brain
tumor.
Needless to say, this news was shocking and confusing, but
having my husband and family present at the time was helpful in understanding
next steps. In the face of something as serious as a brain tumor, the primary
questions becomes when and where will surgery take place? Coincidentally, I
lived only 20 minutes from a highly reputable neurological institute in
Phoenix. Another plus is that my uncle is a doctor and CEO at a university
hospital and assisted in arranging a well-regarded neurosurgeon to perform my
surgery. When it comes to brain tumors, there is a sense of urgency because
they can be aggressive and grow quickly, thus my operation took place less than
a week after that initial MRI. After surgery, pathology revealed what none of
us wanted to hear: the tumor was malignant.
The name of my cancer is Medulloblastoma, which strangely
enough is a common childhood cancer. I quickly learned that in the world of
cancer, the disease does not discriminate; it is unkind and it is relentless.
There is no history of cancer in my family and by all accounts up until then I
had been healthy my whole life. With this unwelcome news came a treatment plan
on how to best prevent its return. I endured six weeks of radiation to my head
and spine. I lost a lot of things during that time period: my ability to care
for Alex, my hair, my appetite, my sense of innocence, and my place in the
world. However, I never lost hope because after all, my now 8-month old baby
and my husband (Erin) needed me…and moreover I needed them.
After my treatment was over in Phoenix, Erin and I decided
to sell our house and move to Portland, Oregon to be closer to my sister and
her family. Erin is a commercial airline pilot, so when he was away, it was
nice to have a nearby support system. I was connected with a neuro-oncologist
(a friend of my uncle the doctor) at Oregon Health and Science University
(OHSU), who would keep a close eye on me in the form of regular MRIs and
check-ups. Initially, I had a cranial MRI every three months, which eventually
became once every six months, then eventually once every year.
Year after year my MRIs were “clean,” which gave me the
confidence to move forward in my life both on a personal and professional
level. I had a second child named Dean in January 2012. I earned my Masters in
Elementary Education in May 2013. The summer of 2013, Erin, the boys and I
moved back home to Colorado where we always dreamed of raising our kids. Though
I’m from Denver, we chose Fort Collins because it seemed like a good fit for
our family. In January 2014, I began to substitute teach in Poudre School
District with high hopes of someday getting back into my own classroom. In August 2014, I found myself sitting
in an interview for a long-term substitute position at an elementary school in
Fort Collins. I spent the majority of the year subbing at this school, which was
incredibly gratifying; I became part of a tight-knit community of educators who
care so deeply about children with a leader like no other at the helm. I felt
whole again, so you can imagine my joy when I received a call from the
principal a few months ago about an offer to work with the second grade team the
2015-2016 school year. I was ecstatic and started right away visualizing what
my classroom would look, feel and sound like with a room full of young minds
ready to learn and grow under my tutelage.
Though I now live in Fort Collins I continue to see the same
neuro-oncologist at OHSU in Portland, Oregon for my MRIs. My last MRI was only
six months ago in December 2014, which was “clean” as it had been time and time
again over the past 6 years. According to my doctor, I was a real rarity
considering there is not much data out there for adults with Medulloblastoma.
To better align my MRI schedule with a teacher’s schedule, I wanted to change
my annual MRI schedule to summers instead of winters so my subsequent MRI was
scheduled for June 17, 2015. We were headed to Portland to visit my sister and
her family anyway so I combined the two. This MRI was like any other I’ve had
in the last six and a half years only the outcome revealed something different:
cancer has returned. This unfortunate news does not have the same shock effect
as it did in 2008, however, it does not make it any easier. Life is more
complex with two children and living far away from OHSU. Cancer brings life to
a full stop. My plans and the plans of those close to me come to a full stop. I
am thrown back into the world of being a cancer patient--a place I loathe, a
place I don’t belong-- with an outcome I cannot control. I’m at the mercy of a
disease that has no cure. I am forced to look at Alex and Dean and think about
the real possibility that I won’t be here to watch them grow. I ache for my
loving husband who must not only be there to support me, but also be the
primary caregiver for our children during this process. I desperately want to
be here to for my boys and husband, to be the mother and wife I am today. I
have a lot more living to do. I am sad, scared and angry, but I have to stay
positive, I have to remain strong both physically and mentally. One way I do
this is by riding my bike. I love to climb hills, to hear my breath and the
beating of my heart. It is in this moment that I am alive. I have to believe
that I can pedal up this mountain a second time. I am a survivor. My mantra has
always been to breathe, just breathe.
I hope that you are able to take pause and think of my
family and me as we embark once again down this difficult path.
Love,
Sareana
The following is logistical information…
Part one is the surgery itself. My surgery will take place
on Friday, July 10 at University of Colorado Health in Denver. The tumor is in
the same location of my previous tumor, which likely means it is
Medulloblastoma. The doctors we’ve spoken with over the past few weeks all
agree that it is an operable tumor and not a complicated procedure as far as neuro-surgeries
go. My parents, who live in Eagle, CO, as well as Erin will be with me at the
hospital. My sister, Nicola, will be flying in from Portland to take care of my
boys in Fort Collins while I’m in the hospital. Nicola will update you on this
blog about how I am doing after surgery. After an estimated 3-5 days in the
hospital I will come home to recover and gain strength before treatment begins
approximately three weeks later.
*****I kindly ask for no visitors during my hospital stay,
thank you*****
Part two is to determine where and when my treatment will
take place and what it will look like. Since 2008 scientific advances have been
made regarding targeted treatment for specific kinds of cancer. My treatment
will most likely involve a combination of radiation and chemotherapy; however,
my specific regimen will be unknown until after surgery when they can examine
tissue from the tumor.
You might be
wondering what can you do for me?
The best thing you can do is to keep my family and me in
your thoughts and prayers. These have been very heavy days since I learned of
my recurrence, but my boys make things ‘normal’ and my husband supports me like
a rock. My devoted family will be by my side every step of the way just as they
were six and a half years ago. We just spent a week in Eagle, Colorado visiting
my parents over the July 4th weekend. I always love being up in the
mountains surrounded by beauty, peace and a sense of calm. I also tackled some
hills on my bike while we were there!
