The Paige Story [Previous] [Back to Table of Contents] [Next]

"Paige, I don't believe it is cancerous" the doctor assured me. "You are so young, it is probably a fibroid". I was 29 years old, just got engaged, had my life moving in the right direction, could this be happening to me? Me, the one who worked out 5 times a week, cut back on drinking, didn't smoke, ate healthily? It was.

Since I was a child I was very active, ate like there was no tomorrow, and was constantly moving. I rode my bike, roller-skated, swam, and was in gymnastics as a child (was voted most athletic in my sixth grade class). In junior high I was on the track team, and swim team. Once I reached high school my social interests were more important than sports, although I cheered if you want to call that a sport. I was an occasional runner until the age of 23 where I was unable to keep my figure without working out. At 23 I began to work out 3 to 5 times a week, whichever my college schedule permitted. I ran, or did aerobics at first. Once I graduated from college I got my AFAA certification to teach aerobics (which I never pursued), I also moved out to California for a job. Once I moved to California, I picked up other sports: hiking, surfing, mountain biking, and snowboarding. I would say I worked out at least 5 times a week.

My career goals took me to Northern California. Being an Electrical Engineer, that is where the jobs are, not to mention, great mountain biking, surfing, and snowboarding.

So, there I was, living the good life, so I thought. I started feeling a little strange. I was tired, and was also having trouble having bowel movements. About three weeks passed, and I was scheduled to do a relay run from Sonoma to Santa Cruz with my company. I still wasn't feeling that great, and had decided it had gone on for too long, I was going to go to the doctor. I thought the doctor was going to laugh at me and tell me I was suffering from constipation. Having never been constipated before, I wanted to find out for sure.

During the examination the doctor felt something strange and asked if I minded if she had a colleague check me out too. They were both perplexed. I began a series of many tests, beginning with an X-ray, which confirmed I was backed up all right. The doctor told me to get over the counter medication to relieve the pressure and to return the next day. The next day, the day of the race, the doctor had scheduled me to have some more tests and an ultrasound; needless to say I had to bail out of the relay at the last minute. The doctor phoned to tell me she had scheduled me to see an OB/GYN. The OB/GYN gave me an exam and did an ultrasound where she and a colleague discovered a mass. They didn't believe it to be cancerous given what they had seen and my age. The doctor scheduled me to have a CT scan done. She phoned me at home that evening to have me return to her office the following morning. I did, where she proceeded to tell me that what she found might indeed be cancerous and that she had scheduled me to see an OB/GYN Oncologist that afternoon. She didn't have to explain what an oncologist was at that point; she just needed to hand me a tissue to wipe the falling tears.

I phoned my fiancé', and I phoned my parents. My fiancé arrived at the OB/GYN's office to take me to the oncologist's office. Once we saw the oncologist, he had confirmed our fears. He explained all the possibilities that the mass could be, which were endometriosis, fibroid tumor, and cancer. He gave us the percentages of what he thought this was and he was right. Surgery was scheduled for the following morning. I had seen 5 doctors, 3 of who were suspicious of cancer, and all agreed it needed to be removed surgically.

I was to have a laporoscopy initially, to check whether the tumor was cancerous or not. If it was not, they would break it into small enough pieces to be removed through the navel, if it was they would have to open me up and remove the tumor and test it, and possibly perform a hysterectomy and a colostomy.

Right before the surgery the anesthesiologist had asked me if I had ever had surgery before. I told him that I had had knee surgery to repair the ACL. At that time I was thinking nothing could be worse than that. He told me that this would be different, this was a major surgery. Thanks, right before I go under and you want to scare the pants off of me? And then I was out.

Hours later I would discover that I had indeed had a cancerous tumor, which they removed. I no longer had my female organs, I had a colostomy, and "oh, by the way" I had to undergo chemotherapy. "This cannot be happening to me!" I thought. I take care of myself well, I get check-ups once a year, I eat right, I am young, and I have no family history, what happened?

After leaving the hospital I felt awful. I was unable to lay flat, my stomach felt full. I wasn't holding anything down, and nothing was coming out. I began feeling so bad we phoned the doctor and he told me to go and have an X-ray done. My fiancé drove me to the emergency room at a hospital that was close by. My oncologist was at a different facility. After the doctor in the emergency room spoke with the oncologist on the phone they suggested I get to their facility. Off we went. I was admitted back into the hospital where I progressively got worse. That was Thursday evening. I don't recollect anything from then until the following Saturday, where I woke up unable to open my eyes and unable to move. I was coming to, but why couldn't I move or speak? My hands were tied to the bed and my eyes taped shut. I thought I was tagged for dead and I couldn't tell anyone that I wasn't. I began to hear my parent's voice, and my fiancé's, but I couldn't talk. After some time, who knows how long, I was able to move my fingers and head a little. Finally someone spoke to me and told me where I was. "Thank-God" I thought, I am alive, they know I am here. They removed the tape from my eyes but still I couldn't speak. I had tubes down my throat! I tried to spell out in sign language what I wanted to say. I knew only the alphabet. The nurse did not. Finally, they gave me a pen and paper, which I was barely capable of writing. I discovered I had undergone another surgery. Apparently my bowel had perforated. It twisted looking for a blood supply and cut-off it's blood supply completely and leaked causing an abdominal infection, which ultimately shut my heart down. I died. They were able to resuscitate me and perform another surgery to remove the dead portion of bowel and re-connect either end.

The infection was still not getting better. I was sent to get a CT done to find out where the infection was and to remove any excess fluid. They began doing this and accidentally punctured my lung. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Had they not punctured my lung they would not have looked there to find fluid in my lungs. This is what was keeping me from getting better. I was scheduled to have surgery to remove the fluid in each lung. This was broken up into two days, one for each lung. They removed a total of 6 liters, 4 from one, 2 from the other. I slowly began to recover. The surgeon said had I not been in such good shape physically, I would have never survived.

Nobody knows for sure why I have cancer, but one thing is for sure. If I can help at least one other person with this story, maybe that is why it happened to me. Maybe it is simply to help others. Let them know that it can happen to them. To tell them to pay attention to their bodies, to question anything that isn't working right, and don't let it persist until it is too late. It doesn't matter what color you are, it doesn't matter what age you are, it doesn't even matter if you are doing everything right. Sometimes, it just happens. However, having said all that, early detection and good health can save your life. We caught mine before it spread to any life-sustaining organs, so I've got a shot at recapturing my life. [do the same for yourself, if you feel anything odd, have it checked]