From the article submitted to Coping magazine
The wedding ceremony was held on the beach, on an isolated, mountainous strip of coast south of San Francisco. The setting could not have been more perfect - the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the ocean was turquoise and the sound of the surf was loud and lent an amazing ambiance to the whole scene. The bride stood barefoot at the natural altar with her groom, beaming radiantly. This day was made from the stuff of dreams. You would have had to look hard to realize that she wore very short hair under her beautiful veil, and you would have had to look harder still to realize her coiffure was anything other than a stylish choice.
However this wedding is remarkable for many reasons other than its serene, even exotic setting. Paige Pullen was having her perfect wedding in the midst of her battle with Ovarian Cancer. Nothing could deter her from celebrating this day - not 2 wedding reschedules due to cancer and complications, nor the fluid in her abdomen that nearly rendered her tummy too big for the dress, nor the nausea, nor the fatigue, nor the blood counts, CBCs, labs, CA125s or anything else the world could throw at her. Paige was going to get married, and was going to have a good time of it, and that was that.
Her story begins the year before, a scant 5 weeks after her engagement, during what is supposed to be the happiest time of a person's life. We had just set the wedding date for Spring 1999. However, seemingly innocuous lower abdominal pains caused her to see her regular doctor and ask questions about mundane conditions such as constipation or gas. She thought it would be nothing, but knew "something was not right" (trust your instincts!). The notions of a simple cure evaporated quickly when the medical community started rolling out the red carpet to her for test after test. "Why are they being so proactive and prompt with me?" she wondered. The ultrasound confirmed a mass, probably fibroid tissue. By the time the CAT scan was done the scales were beginning to tip from fibroid to malignant tumor. Oh my God! The Gynecological Oncologist saw her the next day, and scheduled surgery for the following day (see a specialist!). The prompt diagnosis and action was decisive in getting her to the next stage of the fight.
The surgery confirmed cancer, Stage IIIc, and the pathology reports labeled it Ovarian in nature. The real battle had just begun. Our expectations were set for an on-time discharge from the hospital followed quickly by 6 months of aggressive chemotherapy. We got it half right. She came home ok, but suffered a ruptured bowel 2 weeks later that subsequently caused shock and a cardiac arrest. This ordeal landed her in the intensive care unit for the better part of a month. This set her chemo program back over 2 months, and sentenced her to intravenous nutrition only (also known as TPN). We rescheduled the wedding date for Fall 1999.
Her chemo began around Christmas 1998, and was going well until the last month of the 6 cycle regimen. The tumor came back in late May 1999, just 6 weeks before her "2nd Look Surgery", which she was hoping would be the finish line. Things were supposed to be getting better at this point. However, it soon became apparent that more chemo would be required, and our rescheduled wedding date was now invalid. The next regimen was scheduled to begin Monday June 28, 1999. We chose to seize the opportunity to get married, since we did not know when we would be able to have any control over our destinies again. We set the wedding date for June 26th, which left us about 14 days to plan.
Paige chose Montara State Beach for its rugged beauty and pristine setting. This spot feels miles from civilization, and is a place where we had surfed often. I was nervous about simply showing up somewhere unannounced with no backup plan. What if it rained? What if it was crowded with rude, noisy people? Paige was a master at non-planning this event. I realized she knew what she wanted and I just went along with it, sweaty palms and all. I did organize the limousine and restaurant for the reception, and managed to feel good about having planned something. However the best moments were unplanned.
The natural setting was perfect for the occasion - there was an aisle down which her father brought her, the rocks on the beach created a natural altar, and the crashing waves and high tide provided all the heavenly music we needed. She was stunning as she rounded the bluff and came into view. Passersby on the beach stopped to admire the scene, and even take some photos of their own. By the time she reached the 'altar' we were both smiling madly. This was so perfect. I was so happy I barely could pay attention to the minister as he spoke. Paige was beaming and barefoot on her favorite beach. The moment required nothing else. All pains were forgotten on that day. The cancer-induced fluid that swelled her abdomen did not prevent the dress from fitting properly, and the other painful symptoms that usually kept her chair-ridden magically hid for a day. Paige was to be married and the world seemed to agree.
The reception was another stellar example of how to just let things happen. She changed into a favorite batik dress and shed the veil, choosing to wear her hair naturally. People still commented about her beauty. The folks at the restaurant could see the joy of the event and gently cleared the room where we dined and did not seat anyone else around, leaving us to enjoy the cliffside view of the Pacific with our party. Not one restaurant could promise such a setting, but instead it just occurred.
Paige was able to let go of her expectations about the wedding and simply enjoy things as they happened. Enough of this rubbed off on me that I too was able to relax and revel in the day with her. I still tell people to this day that if given a year to plan a wedding I could not improve upon that day. People see the photos and only remark about the obvious joy, the beauty of the surroundings, and her beauty. Nobody sees the cancer. Nobody says "It was a nice wedding, but …", or "You did well for having so little time to plan" or anything of the sort. They only rave about it. Her happiness leaps out of the photographs at you, and it is due to her ability to be present in the moment and enjoy it fully, free from preconceived expectations.
Paige Pullen and Robert Devine were married June 26, 1999 on the rocks at Montara State Beach, California, and had their wonderful reception at the Moss Beach Distillery (thanks) in Moss Beach, California. Paige began her next series of chemotherapy on June 28th, 1999, two days after her wedding. She continues to fight and is a perpetual inspiration to those around her.
