My story started in November 2019 when I fell (on our boat) and broke 3 ribs. The X-rays showed a nodule in my upper right lobe in addition to the breaks. I met with the pulmonologist in January, 2020 and he offered 3 options: surgically remove it, take a biopsy via invasive procedure or watch it with scans every 3 months, noting that he thought it was scare tissue from an earlier infection. With the broken ribs still healing, I chose not to do the invasive procedures and follow up with scans as suggested. The following months showed no change until June, 2021 at which time we did the biopsy and it revealed non-small cell lung cancer.

Here’s where the story goes back to a boat. In order to navigate the treatment options for myself, I drew upon my experience with my husband, Dick and his cancer story. That story started in November (also) 2013 when we left our home in Charleston to sail to Miami where he was to be a presenter at a seminar. Two days into the trip he showed me a pimple on his bald head and while I didn’t know what it was, I knew it didn’t belong there. In the 2 weeks it took to arrive in Miami, it had grown to pea size so as soon as I got connected to the internet, I began the process of finding a dermatologist to look at it. We were able to get an appointment the next day with Dr. Mandy (our first miracle) who did the biopsy right then and there, understanding that we planned to sail to the Bahamas 10 days later.

The biopsy results took longer than expected and finally we got the call on December 20th while in the Bahamas: Melanoma. He gave us his personal contact information so that we could digest the news because “the word CANCER makes your brain freeze.” He told us to call him over the weekend to discuss options, assuring us that he would help us find the best oncologist wherever we wanted to go for treatment. He added that before deciding we needed to know that one of the top 5 melanoma specialists was there in South Beach and he could arrange for a PET scan and appointment. After family discussion, we decided to enjoy the Holidays in the Bahamas and then sail back to Miami to begin the fight against the cancer.

In mid-January 2014, we returned to Miami to collect ourselves at the marina nearby, get the scans and meet with Dr. Jose Lutzky (our second miracle). The diagnosis was stage 4 metastatic melanoma in the liver, lungs, right shoulder and brain. We were flabbergasted and numb. Fortunately, Dr. Lutzky was calm, showed us the scans and then proceeded to offer options. He told us about a Merck clinical trial in phase 3 testing with very good results. Dick would need a gamma knife procedure for the tumor in his brain, a 2-week healing period, minor surgery to remove the new lesion on his scalp and then he could start treatments. The clinical trial meant a 2-year commitment for infusions and scans in Miami every 3 weeks. With a 90–95% success rate, minor, manageable side effects and a first-class medical team, the choice was clear, so Dick signed the papers and we began the journey.

We went back to our boat/home to notify our family of the developments, organize ourselves and speak to the manager at the marina about our new circumstances. The Manager came back with an amazing monthly rate for us to remain there for an indefinite time period in the height of the season (our third miracle). We used the Miami Transit System to get to our appointments, settled into life in and around the marina and made the best of a bad situation in sunny Florida for the winter.

The gamma knife procedure was successful, the infusions began and Dick continued to be his active self with no side effects. In March we finally flew home, returning every 3 weeks for scans and infusions. By May, the routine was in place so Dick, our daughter and her husband sailed the boat back home to Charleston. Then we needed a hotel room every 3 weeks and a friend’s daughter worked for Sheraton and was able to offer a special employee rate at the local Sheraton South Beach (our fourth miracle). The next 20 months it was our home away from home. In February 2016, Dick got his last infusion, still with no side effects and no sign of the melanoma. We returned to Miami for regular follow up visits and on January 29th 2025, Dick was released from the trial and pronounced cured – our fifth and biggest miracle.

So, in June ’21 and based on our experiences with Dick’s melanoma, I applied what I had learned to fight the lung cancer. I did online research about the physicians and called a former neighbor in CT for recommendations at Yale. I discovered that Dr. Wrangle, my Charleston oncologist, was collaborating with them already. When I had my first appointment, the genetic testing required for immunotherapy treatment was already ordered. I was in good hands. I didn’t qualify for the Merck trial drug, now known as Keytruda, because my cancer cells were genetically different. My treatment was robotic surgery to remove the upper right lobe and then 4 rounds of chemotherapy. By November the treatments were completed, I rang the bell and got ready for the holidays. My first follow up visit in January showed no new tumors and I was recovering nicely, until February 2022.

It was early morning when I got out of bed, put my feet on the floor and there it was…stabbing pain on the bottoms of both feet. I walked toward the bathroom, stumbled a bit and had no idea what was happening. I took some Tylenol in hopes that it would go away but it didn’t. After 4 or 5 weeks I contacted my primary care physician and she prescribed some medicine. It didn’t work so we tried another which didn’t work either so she suggested physical therapy. It helped a bit but I was still uncertain of the signals coming from my feet, very nervous about falling and not sleeping well because of the constant pain and tingling.

One day the therapist brought a plastic box of dry rice for me to message my feet in, explaining that an MUSC doctor doing research on peripheral neuropathy had suggested it. The plan was to over stimulate the nerves to wake them up. Dr. “Katie” was reportedly having some success with this approach. It wasn’t until the next fall that I was connected with her through Dr. Lockhart at the 2nd Hollings Cancer Center Regatta. (Connections and engagement in the community matter – they create miracles.)
I reached out to Dr. Katie Schmitt right away, got an appointment and began the rehabilitation process. She is amazing and it was working (the 6th miracle). She explained that her research indicated that 85–90% of chemotherapy patients get peripheral neuropathy and that she could significantly help 90% of them. I didn’t know that the neuropathy was a probable side effect and it wouldn’t have changed my decision to go ahead with the chemo, but it would have made me seek treatment for the symptoms right away. When I asked why I wasn’t told about it she said it was difficult to the word out to doctors and patients alike.

So, I decided to become her self-appointed ambassador to get the word out so others would benefit from the treatment. Just 2 weeks ago when visiting some classmates in CT, I asked the group if anyone had peripheral neuropathy – 4 of the 8 of us responded yes. Silence and isolation do not support getting treatment and comfort when you are dealing with health issues, especially cancer. New treatments and procedures are coming along fast and as patients, we need to find them when we need them.

So, what did Dick and I learn?

1. Upon hearing the diagnosis, let it sink in and then figuratively hold it in your hands, outside your body, so you can ‘see’ the PROJECT before you. Depersonalize CANCER so you can rationally apply problem solving skills to address the issues.
2. Find the right doctor; one that is involved with or aware of the latest research and new treatments. Or, at the very least, is willing to collaborate with those who are.
3. Internet searches can be very helpful but critique the reviews to sift out the complaining and focus on education, experience and results.
4. Ask questions and insist on understanding the diagnosis, proposed treatment, side effects and probable outcome. Be your own advocate and be involved.
5. Share your journey, feelings, fears with those close to you. They want to support the “project” and their circle of contacts, experience and resources can contribute to your successful outcome.

Fighting cancer is a team sport so select your players carefully, be actively involved with the treatment, gather your cheerleaders, be faithful to the training and ring the bell of victory.