Pat Sample

Pat SampleMy twin and I are “miracle babies,” according to my mother. Since we were little girls, my mother has recounted the nightmare about her pregnancy with us. She was very sick during her pregnancy, with kidney problems keeping her in constant pain and often bed-bound. They loaded her so full of medications that at one point the doctor could find no fetus heartbeats, and told my mom to expect the worst. Eventually the heartbeats started up again, which made the doctor very nervous about what kind of babies we might be. My twin, Paula, and I also got to sunbathe in the x-rays they kept taking of my mother’s kidney area…Oh yeah, there also was the time that they gave her a very large dose of DES, in case her kidney problems might start an early labor. The doctor didn’t want us born early. He was, though, prepared for alien monsters to be born; every piece of life-saving equipment they had at the hospital was rolled into the room when my mother’s labor got into full swing. 

And we were born, and we were miracles! Until I began receiving hormone shots when I was in the 8th grade, because my menstrual cycle just “wasn’t right.” By the time I was in my mid-20’s I was receiving abnormal pap smear results. Cervical cancer was coming to call (they think it was the DES exposure…), and I decided to head it off at the pass with a hysterectomy in 1982. There was a bright side to this, though. I’ve saved a fortune in “feminine products” over the years! Feeling as if I’d dodged a big bullet, I brushed off the latest round of reproductive organ mutiny, went back to my life, completed graduate school, experienced wonderful, loving relationships, and expected a great future. I moved to Colorado in 1988, began an amazing career in academics. After several wonderful relationships, I found Terry, and she and I and her two children became a family! That same year I was granted tenure and promotion. Things were going well!

In 2001, we decided it was time to get a larger, more suburban home, closer to the kids’ schools. The move and the house were huge, but I felt, finally, like a true adult. Right before school started that fall, I drug Terry to get her first mammogram. I’d had several, was over-due for one, and told Terry I’d be her buddy and we’d do it together. She decided they weren’t so bad. I decided they were a nightmare – if a life-saving one! It was a common form of breast cancer: invasive ductal carcinoma. I didn’t see that one coming, but probably should have. You can only stay a “miracle” for so long! The next year was “the drill,” with our only goal being that we would beat that cancer to death! Dr. Medgyesy lovingly pulled me and Terry through a year of three surgeries, six months of chemotherapy, one major scare, and six weeks of daily radiation at the end. Our life was so hard, and I felt so bad for me and those I love all the time! At the end of June, 2002, I became a survivor of cancer treatment, except my chest wall, right arm, and underarm kept hurting – burning as if a hot iron was sizzling against my flesh. “Don’t worry, it will heal!” It didn’t. New type of treatment required: pain relief! Dr. Boylan and I tried every procedure he knew to shut off my nerves, but the brain had already learned to hurt, and now that’s what it does to me – it tells me I’m in pain all day every day of my life. But, on the bright side and with a couple of scares thrown in, at least I don’t have cancer back!

In spite of my scars, the pain, the constant side-effects of the cancer-prevention and pain meds I have, and the tiny voice that whispers “Yeah, you’re a miracle, all right!,” I’m doing well. I still have my family of Terry and the kids; I have our labradoodle – Gracie, I am much closer to my biological family than I thought possible, have steadfast friends who forgive my absences lack of initiative more than anyone should, and I still have my career – made full professor last year. I’m slow, I’m tired, I’m sometimes discouraged, and hurt all the time, but I’m here! And, more importantly, I have love all around me all the time. And, that, at the end of each day, is the miracle!