Elizabeth's Story: Small Bowel Cancer

Recorded January 15, 2002

Listen With 10 minutes, 56 seconds.

Username: elizabeth_t

Go to elizabeth_t's personal Web page

Hi. My name is Elizabeth. I am 31 years old and I live in Silver Spring, Maryland. I started having a stomach problem around August/September of 2000; having serious stomach cramps and violently getting ill. Since it started happening, I was going to the doctor often, but could not find what was going on. And one day, on October 30th, after many doctor visits and emergency rooms, I got violently ill and went to emergency room again. A doctor decided to run some more tests and did an x-ray and CAT scan to see why I was getting ill.

Abdominal Pain Reveals Cancer of the Intestines

So they did finally see something, some kind of a blockage in my intestine. The nurse came in and she told me that I was not to go home that day. They were going to admit me and would decide what they were going to do and discuss the subject with my doctor the next day. My gastroenterologist came in with this tall, very nice gentleman, who would be my surgeon, and introduced us and said, "There is a blockage in your intestine". He gave me a couple scenarios [of] what would happen, and what he thinks should happen and should expect. He said there probably [is] some kind of scar tissue. Without me knowing it, that I had gotten an infection in my intestine and when it healed, it left serious scarring. He said, probably, we need to go in and correct that. Or, there is a twist in my intestine and they again, should go in and correct that.

The last thing he said, "The worst thing that could happen when you wake up, you might wake up with a bag, if there is a serious infection, until it heals." He said, "Do not panic." Since the blockage that they found was in a very unusual place in my small intestine, they could not see or tell me exactly what was wrong on that date.

So on November 2nd we went in for surgery. The next day, I talked to the surgeon and he said the surgery went very well, but he said he found a growth, a tumor in your intestine. He was very puzzled and nobody was expecting to find that what they found. And you can imagine my big surprise and concern on that matter. The tumor and part of my small and large intestine was sent to pathology tests. He said, "I will let you know what the result is in a couple of days, and do not be concerned." But, that's easier said than done.

So, on November 5th, that tall surgeon who always had a very nice smile and was joking around, walked in at 5 o'clock in the afternoon. He still had that very nice smile on his face but he wasn't joking around. I knew about that time that I was in serious trouble and he said, "I'm sorry to tell you, Elizabeth, you have cancer." My older brother was sitting next to me and that's all I heard for that moment. I know I was crying but whatever he was telling me, it wasn't registering. At that point I didn't know what was going on, but I could see the doctor was talking to my brother, but I just went deaf.

Cancer's Location Raises Questions Without Answers

Then after a while, I was talking to my brother to just make sure that what he said was what I heard. He came back and we talked about it a little bit more, and sat there for a very long time thinking about what I should do next and what would need to be done. Anyway, another doctor walked in who would be my oncologist, and discussed what the next step would be, what needed to be done, and what kind of therapy options I had. Having said that, he said, "Since your cancer is in an unusual place and we do not have known chemo for that kind of cancer, we will be treating it as a colon cancer. I cannot tell you what the success rate for that kind of cancer would be because," she said, "they don't know too much about it."

I had so many questions to ask her, but again, the answer most of the time would be, "I don't know." "We don't know." "We'll just try and see how it goes." The only statistics they could give me had to do with the large intestine, even though my medication was going to be for the colon cancer. Again, there was no more information. That really put me in a very angry place. My healing process, from November until December until I started my chemo, was just filled with questions and anxiety, and hoping somebody would give me an answer. I went to different websites, to whatever website that I could think of, that could have an answer, but did not find anything. In other words, unless I was terminally ill, nobody was out there to talk to or ask a question.

So on December 7th I started my chemotherapy, and tolerated it very well, I might say. He told me that it would go on for six months. Four weeks of therapy consecutively and a week of break, and I said, "Well, I can take this." And I went to therapy every week, week by week I'm getting weaker and I'm getting weaker. And sometimes you just sit there and you're getting sick because of the chemo, and you're getting so sick and you wonder if it is all worth it.

I have two older brothers that are very, very, very supportive, and were very nice childhood friends. Whenever I just turn mad, and I just pick up the phone and say "I need someone to talk to." So finally someone suggested that I go and talk to a professional therapist. I went there and they diagnosed me with mild depression. That was another scenario to deal with, but somehow again, with friends and family support; [I] came through that.

So after six months of chemotherapy, I finished mine in June of 2001, and that was a big celebration, believe me. Keeping my food down was an absolute problem at that point, but I finished my chemo in June. So [I] do a follow-up every now and then. Six months of CAT scans, blood work and doctor visits and I'm still standing.

Support from Loved Ones and the Bonds of Chemo Friends

Had I not had my brothers and had I not had my friends to lean on, I sometimes wonder what my life would have been. Not only recovery, that I thought was the hardest thing to go through, but with the chemotherapy over six months, it would definitely feel like an eternity. When insomnia hits and you wake up in the middle of the night and you can't do anything and fatigue hits you and you're rolling around the carpet, and you don't know what to do, the phone was always open. I can call any day, any time to my brothers and my friends and I can say, "Get here!" or I just wanted to chat. Having that was really, really a big help.

Not only them, just having that group that I used to have my chemo with every Friday and we formed this bond with these strangers when we walk in. When we walked in, we were just absolute strangers. The first day everybody was talking about their chemo or the kind of cancer that they have. I thought [it] was one of the [most] unpleasant discussions that I had to go through at first. And I said, "I don't want to talk about this." I don't want to relive my pain; how I was diagnosed, what I felt then, what I'm feeling now. I just did not want to talk. But after hearing their story, after telling mine, we became instant friends after a few hours sitting in oncology office. And they became my best of friends.

Unfortunately, I lost two of them, and one of them is just barely hanging [on]. Having that support and having wonderful doctors around you was one of the best things, and talking about it and never giving up. But having said that, if I have to go through that again, I'll always wonder, "Can I do that? Would I do that? Can I be that strong again?" I don't know, and I hope I'll never find out.

Help |  About CSN  | Legal & Privacy Information