Relay For Life at UVA: September 2015

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

CANCER IS REAL

I Relay for Nanny and Papa. But before I tell you my story, I want to acknowledge something: everyone has their own cancer story. Mine is neither better nor worse than anyone else’s, but it is my story. It is the reason I want to see cancer’s cure in my lifetime. It’s the reason I have become involved with Relay For Life at UVa, and it is what I come back to when I get stressed out or unmotivated doing my job with Relay.

Cancer became real to me when I was in the 5th grade. My parents told me gently that my grandmother (Nanny) had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I didn’t know what cancer was, what an ovary was, or why my mom seemed so upset. Cancer became real though when I saw Nanny’s scars. When I saw her lift up her shirt a couple of days after her surgery, I was wholly unprepared for the sight of a scar running all the way up the length of her stomach. It wasn’t one of those “Oh, you’ll have a great story to tell about that scar” scars. It was a gash, held together by Frankenstein-esque staples. I didn’t know what to say, but at that moment, I began to understand just how real and vicious cancer is.

Cancer became even more real when I shaved my head. I, along with my brothers and cousins, got a buzz cut when Nanny started her chemotherapy. We couldn’t do much to help Nanny in her treatment, but we could try to let her know that we loved her, and shaving our heads as she lost her hair seemed to be the best way that we knew how to tell her . I discovered a little bit of what she must be feeling when I looked in the mirror after that buzz cut. It was horrible. I’ll never shave my head again if I can help it. But the thing is, cancer patients can’t help it. Cancer takes away that decisions of how you want to do your hair. In that moment, looking at my new haircut in the mirror, cancer’s effects became a little more real to me.

Cancer became even more real when Papa, my grandfather, was diagnosed with colon cancer. It seems like just a few days from the time he was diagnosed to the time he passed away, though it was actually a couple of weeks. Cancer was real, cancer was vicious, and cancer was painful as I told Papa how much I loved him in the hospital shortly before he died. I saw how real cancer had become to so many of Papa’s friends and our family at his visitation. It was hard for me to imagine how cancer could be so utterly devastating by taking someone who had meant so much to so many people.

Cancer has become even more real in the past two years at UVa. It has become real as I have met people and heard their stories. It has become real as I have taken classes from professors doing cancer research currently. It has become real as I walk around the track every year at Relay For Life seeing so many names on the Luminaria.

Cancer is real. Now, though, through my work with Relay For Life at UVa, I know that my effect on cancer is real. The money I raise has real effects. The money I raise goes to cancer research. The money I raise goes to give women wigs. The money I raise allows people to get rides to their treatments. The money I raise pays for lodging near treatment facilities for people who have to travel. The money I raise supports advocacy and support groups. The money I raise will one day fund real cures for all types of cancers.

Cancer is real, but so is our work to see its end. Join me and Relay For Life, so that we can live in a cancer free world.

With RelayLOVE,

Miller Sisson

Greek Recruitment Co-Chair

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

EVERY BATTLE WITH CANCER ENDS WITH A VICTORY

On March 12, 2014, Shawn Kuykendall beat cancer. Hearing that, you probably picture a triumphant victory over cancer ending with a “happily ever after” and a gradual return to life before cancer. However, that is not the case. During his battle with cancer, Shawn once said, “Live or die, I win” and that is just what he did. Although Shawn eventually passed away, he did not lose his battle. He fought gallantly until the end, and while his outcome may not have been the ideal, it was a victory nonetheless.

Our culture has a way of talking about cancer as a battle. We see cancer patients and we watch them fight with everything they have against an evil disease that is eating away at their bodies. We watch them persevere through the treatment and the bad news. We celebrate every little milestone and ounce of good news with them. And then, when the end draws near, society waits to determine the outcome. Did the person win and beat cancer? Will they get their happily ever after and more years with their family and friends? Or, did the person lose? Did they succumb to cancer, leaving behind all of their loved ones? This is where our narrative is wrong. These cancer patients have spent countless days, months, and years battling cancer day in and day out, and we classify them as victorious simply by the outcome, life or death. If they lived, they won; and, if they died, they lost. We completely overlook every small victory along the way. Every round of chemo they made it through; every surgery; every time their doctors gave them good news. In an instant, all of that is forgotten and and the only thing we consider is did they live or did they die.

Changing this perception isn’t easy. We learn the language surrounding cancer when we first learn about cancer. For some, this doesn’t come until they are older and can truly understand what is happening; but for others, like me, cancer reaches back to some of your earliest memories and it’s hard to even remember a time when cancer wasn’t something you were aware of. When the first person you know finishes their battle with cancer, you hear it. If they survive, society champions them for beating cancer, beating the odds. If they pass away, you hear that “so-and-so” lost their battle to cancer. It isn’t easy to suddenly say that person won, they beat cancer, when you know that they are no longer living. It takes time. In the days leading up to Shawn’s passing, I really started to see the phrase, “Live or die, I win”, all over my social media. However, even after his death, I really struggled to see how this was a win. He was gone. He left behind his family and friends. He had so many people rooting for him, praying, and hoping he would miraculously get better. It wasn’t until last spring when I attended the screening of Cancer: The Emperor of All Maladies, that I realized he did win. Shawn had the right mentality the entire time, knowing that no matter what happened he would win. It took me over a year and a two-hour long documentary featuring doctors, patients, and parents discussing the small victories they celebrate every day to finally understand what he had known all along.

Now, I know it won’t be easy to change our language surrounding cancer overnight, but we need to work on it. I’ve stopped saying that “so-and-so” lost their battle with cancer and I hope that one day, this phrase will only be a distant memory, that loss will no longer be associated with cancer. Hopefully, we will see a day where this is true, not because we have changed the perception regarding battles with cancer, but because we have found a cure and a cancer diagnosis no longer comes with fear of death. But in the meantime, while we hope and search for a cure, we need to remember that the victory is in the fight, not the outcome, and that every single person who battles cancer wins. Everyone is victorious in the end. Shawn won.