Esophageal Cancer

I was married for nearly 20 years. One day my husband started complaining of food getting stuck and how he was vomiting after eating lunch. (All unknown to me). He lost weight drastically. He went to the GI doctor and called me at work in tears crying he had EC. I said EC can’t be you don’t drink. Little did I know how much I had to be educated on Esphogheal #Cancer . I was actually embarrassed being in nursing for over 45 years. That was in 2014 and the hell started. The hell never ended until my husband passed in my arms on 2016, May 8-Mothers day. My husband was only 55. I had found ECe doAA (#EsophagealCancer Awareness Association) only weeks before my husband passed. The President of ECAA actually came on Easter day to see my husband and deliver a plant. Little did we both know this would be the start of his demise. I have since sat on the Board of EC Aware offering help in many forms and stages to meet the care of the patient and the caregiver. I have also become an EC patient Advocate.

I have been robbed of everything in my life from #EsophagealCancer . As a result, I have forever changed, and not always in a good way. My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who has been touched by this #Cancer .

You can't see me, I'm hiding.
Behind this vessel, I'm climbing.
Into the spine, within each bone.
What I will do next is unknown.
Fluid form no longer exists.
I'm taking what's mine
From this body, you'll miss.
The innocence and laughter.
Fading into disaster.
Close enough to taint the mind .
Saving them will take time.

For those of you struggling through the holidays, I hope my words can inspire you and your loved ones.

I am almost done with my website that will launch the reality of this disease . Thank you for being strong humans . Please reach out if you wouldn't mind being featured . I have many plans for advocating my personal experience to include my dad's long journey. Just recently , he was diagnosed with Stage 2 Esophageal Cancer ...all stemming from the lack of treatment of his Barrett's Esophagus. Thank goodness it was caught early enough before it spread.

The journey is never over...just keep moving. We will overcome. One breath at a time.

I had to make a choice a couple months ago...stay in PA or move down to Maryland permanently with my boyfriend. I chose my boyfriend but that required leaving all my friends and family AND my job. We’ve been sharing my car...he’s using it for Lyft as he can’t hold a “regular” job due to chronic pancreatitis. Then on Friday my engine blew so now I have nothing to drive and he can’t work. His best friend never wants me to come with if they meet up. I need to find a job but if I get one I have to rely on him to take me and pick me up...which is a problem if he has an attack. On top of all of this I myself am extremely ill. I have fibro, I’m bipolar and severely depressed and I’ve started cutting myself. I really want to not wake up. My pain gets worse everyday. I literally can not remember a day in years that I had a pain free day. I’m only alive for my daughter...I can’t do that to her...we lost her dad 2 1/2 yrs ago from esophageal cancer. I know there are no easy answers but if something does give I don’t know what will happen. Thank you for listening.

My birth family was definitely less than wonderful. I cannot recall my parents ever telling me that they loved me. I was never safe, anywhere and anywhen. About 25 years ago, I cut off all contact with them, because I knew I would never be able to heal.

I moved away about 1800 miles from where I had been living. I located a church that felt so much like a church home. I ended up in a weekly home Bible study group which was led by this one couple who were elders in the church. They offered me love without any conditions, which was huge for me. They gave me the kind of hugs that I had never received before, hugs that were finally safe. They affirmed that I was loveable and worth being loved. (I could go on, but this is sufficient for a "thought.") They became more than just friends to me. They became my family of choice. I eventually chose to change my last name to theirs. However, 8 years ago, my adopted mother became very sick. We were surprised to find out that she had stage 3 esophageal cancer. She died just 40 days after diagnosis. I was her best buddy and she most certainly was mine. We did lunch together, went shopping together, played card games together, and often just sat and talked. I lived only 5 minutes away from her home and it was so easy just to pop over. Susan and were bonded like superglue. I sure miss Susan. I love her husband, my adopted dad very much, but it is different. After Susan died, Denis chose to move to a city which is 5 hours drive time away from me. It is much closer to his daughter and his son. It is something he had needed to do. They had lived in that house for over 30 years, and it was just too full of memories. Even though Susan has gone and I rarely see Denis, their love made my healing from abuse possible.