“Health Heroes: Donna J. Nealey”</p>
<p>Seven years ago, Donna J. Nealey of Prairie Village, Kansas, was diagnosed with lung cancer. Here, she shares her inspirational story.</p>
<p>In the year 2000, I was beginning a new phase of my life. I had just married a wonderful manmy husband, Dennis, my knight in shining armorand we were looking forward to spending a wonderful life together. My husband was a sergeant with a police department, and I had a good job with a utility company.</p>
<p>We had lived through our share of challenges, including the death of my mother-in-law from breast cancer, but we were finally starting to relax and enjoy ourselves. We went to the lake every weekend to hang out on our 29-and-a-half-foot cruiser. We had three grandchildren and were able to take our oldest, Taylor, to the lake with us on weekends. I had lost 30 pounds and was finally able to fit into a 3-4 dress size.</p>
<p>Then all hell broke loose.</p>
<p>A Raging Cough</p>
<p>I came down with a raging cough and an upper respiratory infection, so I went to the doctor to get prescription-strength cough medicine. I left the doctors office feeling very ill, and by 9 that night, I was coughing so hard that I was wetting my pants. Worried, Dennis took me to the hospital immediately.</p>
<p>That night, I was treated very aggressivelymore than at any time in the past. After taking an X-ray of my chest, the doctors said I didnt have pneumonia, so I went home with a handful of drugs and a nebulizer. At 7 the next morning, my husband had left for work and I was looking out the door when the phone rang.</p>
<p>I Saw a Mass . . .</p>
<p>Mrs. Nealey? said the voice on the other end. This is Dr. Beamon from Overland Park Regional ER. I just looked at your X-rays from last night, and I saw a mass on the upper right lobe. I want you to have a CAT scan within four days, no longer.</p>
<p>As I sat in the office waiting for my CAT scan, I felt like I was in a morgue: all the long faces, no one smiling. I wanted my results that very dayWednesday, June 14, 2000and I got them. The CAT scan confirmed that I had lung cancer. I cried and cried. Dennis tried to be encouraging, and I made the necessary calls to my two brothers, my children, and work.</p>
<p>A Year to Live</p>
<p>The next day we went to the doctor, who told me I had maybe a year to live. I told him no chemo or radiation. I wanted quality, not quantity, of lifeand I expected him to take care of the pain at the end. I wanted to live my last year.</p>
<p>When we got home, my big, burly husband cried in my arms. I just cant do this, he said. Dennis had served in Vietnam for 13 months and in law enforcement since 1976and this was the first time I had ever seen him cry. I knew then I had to rally and support him.</p>
<p>We walked around in a stupor. At 4:30 the next afternoon, my doctor called and said the surgeon thought he could get all the cancer in my lungs. Despite the surgeons comments, when I was alone in the house, I screamed as loud as I could, and cried myself into exhaustion.</p>
<p>I Forgot God</p>
<p>For the first few days after being diagnosed, I forgot God. Its as simple as that. But I truly believe that God laid a hand on my shoulder four or five days after I was told I had cancer, because I felt a complete calm come over me. Somehow, I just knew that I would be okay. Two weeks and one day after I had been diagnosed, I was in surgery to remove my upper right lobe and a wedge out of my middle lobeand I wasnt afraid.</p>
<p>Of course, the road wasnt entirely smooth. I was told that a thoracotomy was the most painful surgery you can have, even more so than having your chest cracked open. I was cut between my ribs, just below the shoulder blade and curving around under my right arm. Boy, were they right!</p>
<p>The Pain of It All</p>
<p>On June 29, 2000, I had the surgery. On that day, I also stopped smoking. Stupidly, I had started smoking 13 years before when I was 34. In addition, I had been exposed to secondhand smoke for my entire childhood and have always been prone to chronic bronchitis and pneumonia, which scarred my lungs.</p>
<p>After my surgery, I went to a pain clinic for the next three years. They tried everything: 25 to 30 intercostalswhere they inserted a needle at the very edge of my ribs and tapped it to keep from puncturing my lungand seven to nine trigger-point injections every visit. Nothing they tried got rid of the pain left over from the surgery.</p>
<p>As a last-ditch effort, they installed a Dorsal Cord Stimulator in September 2002. The $26,000 battery and computer chip were placed in my left hip, with wires running up to the pain on the outer side of my spine.</p>
<p>The battery was supposed to last three to five years; it quit after less that two years. As they were replacing the battery, I acquired a staph infection and spent the next six weeks giving myself antibiotic shots every day.</p>
<p>I have never been as sick as I was then, and I never want to be there again. A disease specialist told me that I could never have anything implanted into my body again. So, within two months, that $26,000 device was removed and thrown in the trash.</p>
<p>Becoming Inward</p>
<p>I was devastated, suffering pain all the time, and going to doctors every month. As a result, I retreated inward with my emotions. I stopped crying. I just couldnt sit down for five minutes and be sad, because I felt I had to keep this façade up all the time. On the other hand, I teared up easily over just about everythingand I do even to this day. Its really hard to describe.</p>
<p>Physically, I became less active due to the severe pain, and gained more weight than I did being nine months pregnant! Im still working on that part of my life. Mentally, I knew that I would be okay, thoughand being told I only had one year to live didnt change that fact. I was okay as long as I told myself that I would be okay until I literally stopped breathing.</p>
<p>I strongly believe that patients should do what their doctors tell them, but they shouldnt listen when theyre told that they have only so long to live. I believe that God maps that out when youre born, so you might as well enjoy yourself as much as you can.</p>
<p>Even so, last year, I was knocked off my pedestal with one fell swoop: Three bad scans showed that I had a huge hernia. The doctor said I would either have to control it with food and medication or have surgery, which somehow involves flipping the stomach. I was ingesting some of my stomach contents into my lungs, and it showed up on the scans as nodules and gray mass.</p>
<p>Dealing With What Ifs</p>
<p>At this point, the doctors think theres no more cancer inside me. Even so, Im not going to give one of those testimonials about how wonderful I feel now and how great it is to be alive. The truth is, it sucks to have cancer, pure and simple. You have highs and lows, and your life is never the same again.</p>
<p>Of course, there are always the what ifs: the fear of having only a partial lung on the right side, trying to stay away from sick people because Im more susceptible to getting ill, the scare of my yearly CAT scans, and of course, the emotional scarring. I manage my chronic neuropathic pain with morphine and Percocet. If they dont work, I go to my pain specialist for shots of Demerol and Phenergan.</p>
<p>Where Are the Survivors?</p>
<p>Before I was diagnosed, I didnt know that lung cancer was the number-one cancer killer of both men and women around the world. After I discovered I had survived the worst possible cancer, I began volunteering for the American Cancer Society and did an interview with local high-school students about not smoking. I was also profiled on a television news program, and will be a panelist at an upcoming meeting in Kansas City about lung cancer.</p>
<p>The truth is, I like to talk to people one-to-one about my ordeal and what theyre going through. Even if all I do is listen, its an amazing help. The sad part is that lung-cancer survivors are very scarce. Only 14 to 15 percent of people with lung cancer live five years after being diagnosed. Im still shocked at the lack of survivors.</p>
<p>You Can Do Miraculous Things</p>
<p>People always ask me what has gotten me through this experience, and I think emotionally, having an advocate go with you to the doctors and hospitals is so important. During my entire battle, my husband has fought for me. I never could have accomplished alone what he has been able to accomplish with me.</p>
<p>Beyond that, my biggest suggestion for lung-cancer patients is to give yourself time to take it in. Remember, you can do miraculous things, things you never dreamed of doing. Never give up, rally your family and friends, and follow your heart and instinctthey wont disappoint you.</p>
<p>Donna J. Nealeys Tips for Lung-Cancer Patients</p>
<ol>
<li><p>Have a support system, even if its just you and God, and find a cancer support group.</p></li>
<li><p>Find a good doctor. Ask questions, do your research, and if you dont like your doctor, find another one. Ive fired three doctors, and I think the worst Ive been called is challenging, due partly to my pain not responding, my sense of humor and sometimes my I want it my way when I want it attitude. I try not to do that too much anymore.</p></li>
<li><p>Listen to your body, let it tell you when to rest, and then do it. Dont put off rest.</p></li>
<li><p>Make sure your medical team knows your body. If they dont listen the first time, keep telling them. This is an aggressive disease, so you must be more aggressive.</p></li>
<li><p>Use your animals to heal. My cat, Ashton, curled up next to me for three months after my surgery and never left my side. My husband used to kid me that he knew when I got up because thats the only time he saw the cat. Aston purred his healing on me, but never stepped on my incision or my right side.</p></li>
<li><p>Take care of, and understand, your caregivers. They are a Godsendand more at a loss than you are. They dont have anyone to tell them they have to be here at this time or to do something. They just blindly follow along in your trail and try to do the best that they can. That may not seem enough sometimes, but dont ever say it. Always tell them Thank you.</p></li>
<li><p>Take a breath and tell everything to your doctor, even if youre telling it for the umpteenth time, so they dont miss anything important. If any doctor doesnt have time to listen to you, how much time do you think he or she will have for your disease?</p></li>
<li><p>Realize that if you smoke, quitting will be hard. Ive not smoked for seven years and I still get a twinge. Thats normal, but dont give in to it.</p></li>
<li><p>Love something/someone more than you love yourself. If you have children or grandchildren, wrap yourself around the miracles they are and enjoy those moments. You will forget about yourself for a while, I promise.</p></li>
<li><p>Believe in yourself and in your body. If you are still breathing and walking around, then you are still alive! Dont let anyone treat you any differently.