Chrissy "Beyond Your Wildest Dreams"
Photography by Randy Bacon
Photo by Randy Bacon
Why me? That’s the first thought that came to mind after learning of my cancer diagnosis. I’m a mother of three, a wife, a pediatric dietitian, and a loyal friend. What had I done to deserve this fate? Yet here I sat, hours after the surgeon removed a watermelon-sized mass from my abdomen, learning that I had cancer. And not just any ‘run of the mill’ cancer. I had a rare, extremely aggressive type of cancer called angiosarcoma. It originated in my ovary and quickly grew throughout my midsection. Initially, I had no idea what was happening to my body. My primary doctor thought maybe I needed my gallbladder removed. A scan revealed my gallbladder to be fine, but my abdomen kept growing and I was more and more uncomfortable. I was extremely concerned and after fighting for a CT, they finally discovered the tumor. I waited another week for surgery and when I awoke, my husband gave me the terrible news.
Angiosarcoma is one of the rarest cancers; only one in a million are diagnosed with it each year. Only one percent of those stem from the ovary. At 42 years old, I was devastated. I soaked in the bad news and tried to understand what it meant for my future, and the future of my family. The statistics indicated angiosarcoma patients lived an average of 18-36 months after diagnosis. My husband and I flew to M.D. Anderson for a second opinion. I told the sarcoma expert there I wanted to live long enough to see my 11-year-old daughter graduate from college. He gave me less than a 5% chance of living that long. Stunned, my husband and I returned to our hotel room. We each ate a pint of gelato as we tried to plan the future of our family – a future that would likely NOT include me.
We cried. We held each other. We talked about our next steps. Of course, I would do chemotherapy. Of course, I would do everything in my power to slow the cancer and live as long as possible. I promised my husband and 3 children, I was NOT going to allow this cancer to take me without a fight, that I would do ‘all the things’ to give their wife/mom the very best chance. I was ready to dig deep to find the strength I knew I would need.
I decided to get treatment through the University of Kansas Health System Cancer Center. Angiosarcoma is so rare, there are not many experts in that field. I was paired with Dr. Robert Pluenneke, a seasoned oncologist. He collaborated with M.D. Anderson, and they decided to put me on a combined chemo regimen of Taxotere and Gemzar. First, they surgically installed a port near my left clavicle. During my first treatment, I had a scary allergic reaction to the Taxotere; I struggled to breathe and the pain was intense. The nurses quickly responded, and I cried into the arms of my nurse when it was all over. After several treatments, my hair started to fall out. I lost my energy. My strength. My stamina. After eight treatments, my doctor decided to end the Taxotere because it was so hard on my body, but he wanted to keep me on Gemzar for another eight months.
While my future might look grim, I refuse to give up. I will do everything it takes to survive this. I’m living the best life I can, trying to make the most out of each day. If only 1-2% of angiosarcoma patients live ten years then my attitude is, why not me? Why can’t I be one of the 1-2%?
When we first discovered my cancer, my husband and I had a decision to make. Should we keep my diagnosis private and hide it from everyone? Or should we go public and let everyone know? Complicating the issue was the fact my husband is a television news anchor for Fox 4 in Kansas City. Going public would put me, a private person, in the public eye. But ultimately, I decided if even one person could benefit from me sharing my journey, then it was worth it. Instead of shutting the door, I opened it for all to see. Our friends created a #StewartStrong Facebook page so people could track my progress. They sold T-shirts and raised money to help us pay for medical bills. They brought us meals for six straight months. Strangers reached out with gifts and condolences, expressing how my openness was inspiring them as they, too, deal with difficult issues in their lives.
That brings me back to my original question: Why me? What I’ve come to understand is, why NOT me. My diagnosis has caused me to dive deeper into my faith as I ponder God’s plan for me. I don’t believe God caused this to happen. We live in a world where cancer exists and good people are diagnosed with rare diseases every day. Instead of feeling sorry for myself and trying to blame forces outside of my control, I choose to believe God is walking beside me on this journey. God is giving me the strength I need to share my experiences with others. A quote from an aunt is helping me get through the tough times with purpose. She wrote 'may you be impactful beyond your wildest dreams.’ I never wanted this cancer to happen to me, but it did. Now all I can do is create a legacy of love, kindness, and empathy by showing others how to handle a cancer diagnosis with grace, courage, and strength. I am determined to beat this thing, no matter the odds. And no matter what happens to me in the future, I’m choosing to live in the here and now – because nothing in this life is guaranteed.
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