In December 2022, I was newly diagnosed with stage 3C ovarian cancer. I was scared out of my mind. My CA125 was 2060.
It was a couple days before Christmas, and my surgeon said “do surgery ASAP”.
In other words, do not pass go, do not wait for next years deductible.
I let them cut me open pubic to sternum. Afterwards, and for days after, I crawled to the bathroom, praying to “go”, praying the stitches holding my colon together wouldn’t give out (because, yes, it spread there too).
I watched tv – period films from an earlier time where living to fifty was uncommon and yet people found a reason to live and love. Abbreviated, intense lives.
I went to the best treatment center my insurance allowed. City of Hope. Hope. I could only dream of Hope. A year. Maybe more.
Then science. Genetics. Cutting edge medications. A mutation that tried to kill me was actually the mutation that saved me.
Two years later, my oncologist can’t tell me I’m “cured”, but he told me a story of a healthy body that faced a monstrous disease. The fear of it, of being saddled with the constant companion of death, was ever present in this persons life.
But the resolution of that story? It came back tiny. Once. And the medicine worked. Again.
He told me this was going to be me. And to remember this fable when I was 90.
90.
And I’m only 56.
I got a beautiful gift last week. Thank you for letting me share it.
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ovarian cancer patient stories
Last modified: March 12, 2025
