Cancer Champions
Jan 27, 2013 Update on Tricia :
On March 1, 2012 Tricia was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. She immediately began radiation treatment, then two rounds of long intense chemo regiments….Early in January of 2013 – test revealed the tumor was still there…..On January 24th Tricia began what will be 15 weeks of very aggressive chemo treatments. Her final treatment will be on May 2, 2013.
All the qualities of a prosperous life can be applied to Tricia – she is successful, beautiful, strong, and articulate. She is a respected attorney in her community and a determined advocate for her clients. Prior to her career in law, Tricia was a cheerleader on the nationally acclaimed University of Washington Husky cheer leading squad and a member of the NBA Seattle Supersonics dance team. Dance has always been a part of her.
In 2002, while working as an attorney in Renton, Tricia was diagnosed with late-stage uterine sarcoma. Tricia diligently searched for the best medical team to handle her case and provide her with a fighting chance. At Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center and Seattle Cancer Care Alliance, she found a team with the same passion to fight that she herself had. With less than a 1 percent chance of survival, Tricia defied the odds by enduring surgery and a full year of heavy radiation and chemotherapy. We were all so relieved that day when the cancer went into remission.
Cancer disease had much more fight left in it. Sarcomas are tricky – they hide and almost always return. In July 2004, the cancer returned in the form of six inoperable metastatic tumors. This news was beyond frightening for Tricia and her family and incomprehensible…she was only 35! Tricia’s medical team immediately began aggressive, cutting-edge treatments. Doctors from across the country were consulted on the case. This included extreme, experimental procedures. Although the treatment plan was groundbreaking and aggressive, it did not kill the “one” monster. After many meetings, considerations, and prayers, her medical team performed a procedure that had never been contemplated or done before on this type of tumor. During the course of her battle, Tricia lost sight in one eye and became color blind. True to her great spirit and attitude, her reply to this… “It sure beats the alternative.” By fall of 2005, Tricia received incredible news that the tumors were no longer in existence and her cancer was once again in remission!
Unfortunately, today Tricia once again faces Cancer head on but not alone. In March 1, 2012, she was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, and began radiation treatment immediately. Her wonderful husband and supportive family and friends have been with her each step of the way. Team T, as the men call themselves, shaved their heads to let Tricia know she was not alone.
Amazingly, she continues to keep that same positive attitude and spunky personality that have been her cornerstone throughout this ordeal. Most importantly, Tricia is married to the love of her life, Matthew Johnson. If it weren’t for cancer research and the power of love, Tricia and Matt would have never seen this day.
Tricia knows that near death experiences seem to inspire people to live life to the fullest. She believes we should all spare ourselves this. Instead, learn from others and live! Give others the chance to live! This is what Dance for a Cure is all about and why it was founded by Elizabeth Lanning, Tricia’s sister and owner and director of Elizabeth’s Dance Dimensions. Tricia is the inspiration behind Dance for a Cure, and asks that we all be an inspiration for those who have been and continue to be affected by this horrible disease. The uncomfortable truth is that we will all be affected by cancer in our lifetime. Let’s fight it while we still have our strength, health, and resources!
Life can be like lightening, a flash of brightness that is gone in an instant. Have a ball and share your beautiful gifts with others. “Empower” yourself and donate your time and money to this worthy cause. There is no more powerful gift than giving someone a new lease on life. Our hope is that Dance for a Cure will move and inspire you, reaching into the very core of who you are. Please make a difference today!
On March 1, 2012 Tricia was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. She immediately began radiation treatment, then two rounds of long intense chemo regiments….Early in January of 2013 – test revealed the tumor was still there…..On January 24th Tricia began what will be 15 weeks of very aggressive chemo treatments. Her final treatment will be on May 2, 2013.
All the qualities of a prosperous life can be applied to Tricia – she is successful, beautiful, strong, and articulate. She is a respected attorney in her community and a determined advocate for her clients. Prior to her career in law, Tricia was a cheerleader on the nationally acclaimed University of Washington Husky cheer leading squad and a member of the NBA Seattle Supersonics dance team. Dance has always been a part of her.
In 2002, while working as an attorney in Renton, Tricia was diagnosed with late-stage uterine sarcoma. Tricia diligently searched for the best medical team to handle her case and provide her with a fighting chance. At Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center and Seattle Cancer Care Alliance, she found a team with the same passion to fight that she herself had. With less than a 1 percent chance of survival, Tricia defied the odds by enduring surgery and a full year of heavy radiation and chemotherapy. We were all so relieved that day when the cancer went into remission.
Cancer disease had much more fight left in it. Sarcomas are tricky – they hide and almost always return. In July 2004, the cancer returned in the form of six inoperable metastatic tumors. This news was beyond frightening for Tricia and her family and incomprehensible…she was only 35! Tricia’s medical team immediately began aggressive, cutting-edge treatments. Doctors from across the country were consulted on the case. This included extreme, experimental procedures. Although the treatment plan was groundbreaking and aggressive, it did not kill the “one” monster. After many meetings, considerations, and prayers, her medical team performed a procedure that had never been contemplated or done before on this type of tumor. During the course of her battle, Tricia lost sight in one eye and became color blind. True to her great spirit and attitude, her reply to this… “It sure beats the alternative.” By fall of 2005, Tricia received incredible news that the tumors were no longer in existence and her cancer was once again in remission!
Unfortunately, today Tricia once again faces Cancer head on but not alone. In March 1, 2012, she was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, and began radiation treatment immediately. Her wonderful husband and supportive family and friends have been with her each step of the way. Team T, as the men call themselves, shaved their heads to let Tricia know she was not alone.
Amazingly, she continues to keep that same positive attitude and spunky personality that have been her cornerstone throughout this ordeal. Most importantly, Tricia is married to the love of her life, Matthew Johnson. If it weren’t for cancer research and the power of love, Tricia and Matt would have never seen this day.
Tricia knows that near death experiences seem to inspire people to live life to the fullest. She believes we should all spare ourselves this. Instead, learn from others and live! Give others the chance to live! This is what Dance for a Cure is all about and why it was founded by Elizabeth Lanning, Tricia’s sister and owner and director of Elizabeth’s Dance Dimensions. Tricia is the inspiration behind Dance for a Cure, and asks that we all be an inspiration for those who have been and continue to be affected by this horrible disease. The uncomfortable truth is that we will all be affected by cancer in our lifetime. Let’s fight it while we still have our strength, health, and resources!
Life can be like lightening, a flash of brightness that is gone in an instant. Have a ball and share your beautiful gifts with others. “Empower” yourself and donate your time and money to this worthy cause. There is no more powerful gift than giving someone a new lease on life. Our hope is that Dance for a Cure will move and inspire you, reaching into the very core of who you are. Please make a difference today!
Steve Edmiston: 2012 Cancer Champion
Steve Edmiston is a two-time Hopkins Lymphoma survivor; he completed a stem-cell transplant in 2010.
He is also an indie film screenwriter, game inventor, and attorney. Steve wrote and directed the upcoming The Periphery Project Volume I (2012) and The Periphery Project Volume II (2013). Previously, he wrote and co-produced Crimes of the Past (2009) (premiered on Lifetime, distributed by MarVista Entertainment), co-wrote the multiple-award-winning feature Farewell to Harry, and wrote and co-produced the feature A Relative Thing (2005). He also wrote and directed the award-winning short films The Day My Parents Became Cool. He teaches a masters degree course in film producing at the Seattle Film Institute.
Steve was also the co-founder of Front Porch Classics, where he created the FamilyFun Magazine Toy of the Year, Old Century Dread Pirate, among other games.
Steve focuses his law practice on helping creative companies and artists with the Invicta Law Group.
He is also an indie film screenwriter, game inventor, and attorney. Steve wrote and directed the upcoming The Periphery Project Volume I (2012) and The Periphery Project Volume II (2013). Previously, he wrote and co-produced Crimes of the Past (2009) (premiered on Lifetime, distributed by MarVista Entertainment), co-wrote the multiple-award-winning feature Farewell to Harry, and wrote and co-produced the feature A Relative Thing (2005). He also wrote and directed the award-winning short films The Day My Parents Became Cool. He teaches a masters degree course in film producing at the Seattle Film Institute.
Steve was also the co-founder of Front Porch Classics, where he created the FamilyFun Magazine Toy of the Year, Old Century Dread Pirate, among other games.
Steve focuses his law practice on helping creative companies and artists with the Invicta Law Group.
Randall Broad
In March 2008, my eyes were opened to a new perspective and life took on a whole new meaning. In that month, I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Lung Cancer. Once the reality of this news settled in, my first emotion was to cry. Then I woke up from my first reaction of fear to begin an entirely new and uncharted journey. More
Michelle Millman
My story began last summer, when I was undressing and saw a lump on my right breast.
As I was about to find out, my life would never be the same.
Within two weeks I was diagnosed with Stage 2A invasive lobular carcinoma. By August I’d had a lumpectomy and during this surgery another cancerous tumor was found in my right breast. A mastectomy was recommended. I decided to have a double mastectomy so I wouldn’t have to worry about the left breast developing breast cancer. That was the hardest decision I’d ever had to make.
This was all so overwhelming but I took each day as it came and each test and screening as they came. I put one foot in front of the other but at times it felt like I was in a fog, like I was watching a movie starring someone else, not me.
What helped me tremendously was talking other women who’d been down this road before. They eased my mind, listened and quite simply, made me feel better. Despite what I was going through, these cancer champions made me laugh. I soon found out laughter is some good medicine!
I need 20 weeks of chemotherapy and 7 weeks of radiation. At this writing, I have 5 more chemo sessions to go then after a few weeks off I’ll start radiation.
Through all of this I have been blogging about my experience. When was first diagnosed I felt an overwhelming desire to share what I was learning. I have been a television journalist for 20 years but writing
about this experience has been my toughest assignment yet. KIRO-TV’s web staff created a beautiful page for me and there I’m able to blog, share pictures and video and get messages from others.
Often the people who email me are survivors – champions – and they inspire me with their stories. I also hear from people who’ve watched loved ones die from cancer. These are important stories to hear. It is for all of us -- the champions and those who’ve watched loved ones die – that we need to find a cure. We need to end the pain, the suffering, the death. It can be done, a cure is within our reach.
As I was about to find out, my life would never be the same.
Within two weeks I was diagnosed with Stage 2A invasive lobular carcinoma. By August I’d had a lumpectomy and during this surgery another cancerous tumor was found in my right breast. A mastectomy was recommended. I decided to have a double mastectomy so I wouldn’t have to worry about the left breast developing breast cancer. That was the hardest decision I’d ever had to make.
This was all so overwhelming but I took each day as it came and each test and screening as they came. I put one foot in front of the other but at times it felt like I was in a fog, like I was watching a movie starring someone else, not me.
What helped me tremendously was talking other women who’d been down this road before. They eased my mind, listened and quite simply, made me feel better. Despite what I was going through, these cancer champions made me laugh. I soon found out laughter is some good medicine!
I need 20 weeks of chemotherapy and 7 weeks of radiation. At this writing, I have 5 more chemo sessions to go then after a few weeks off I’ll start radiation.
Through all of this I have been blogging about my experience. When was first diagnosed I felt an overwhelming desire to share what I was learning. I have been a television journalist for 20 years but writing
about this experience has been my toughest assignment yet. KIRO-TV’s web staff created a beautiful page for me and there I’m able to blog, share pictures and video and get messages from others.
Often the people who email me are survivors – champions – and they inspire me with their stories. I also hear from people who’ve watched loved ones die from cancer. These are important stories to hear. It is for all of us -- the champions and those who’ve watched loved ones die – that we need to find a cure. We need to end the pain, the suffering, the death. It can be done, a cure is within our reach.
Mark Day
On anyone's calendar, he has always been a Day to remember, a Day to celebrate.
In 1967, Mark Day was part of a Renton High School football team that was as powerful and unbeatable as any put together in or around Seattle. He supplied the speed, settling under long touchdown heaves sent his way by an NFL-bound quarterback. He shared in the surplus of Division I scholarships showered on this group.
Forty-two years later, Day is a detective sergeant for the Renton Police Department. He pulls a 6 a.m.-to-4 p.m. shift four times weekly. He supervises crime scenes, collects evidence and pulls criminal records.
What has happened to this man besides catching passes and catching suspects is why there should be a holiday named for him.
Day, 59, has survived massive kidney failure and multiple myeloma cancer against great odds, each time requiring bone-marrow transplants to kick-start his health. Eight- een months ago, his kidneys were shut down by a virulent strain of salmonella poisoning. He doesn't know how or where he contracted it, only that it was extra-venomous.
"I died twice, and they brought me back," Day said. "One time, I was in a coma for a week. I woke up, and I was blinded by it. I was bleeding from the brain. My wife said I went into a seizure. The doctor thought I had died. He said, 'He's gone.' "
Ten years earlier, he learned a cancer had spread to his spine and with it came a 6-percent survival rate.
A bone-marrow transplant has been the solution for all of Day's life-threatening moments. As he explains it, this is no more intricate than having someone use a Black & Decker saw to drill into his backbone, blow compressed air to build up the bone and then Super-Glue everything back together.
"I am coming back," he said. "I'm on kidney dialysis and getting off it, free and clear."
Say this about Day, his life has never been mundane or boring.
As a Renton High senior, he played for a 10-0 football team that was considered the state's finest and received national attention. The Indians had just one close game that season, a 27-20 victory over Puyallup in the opener. They beat everyone else by 21 to 46 points.
Day scored 11 times, repeatedly slipping behind the opposing secondary to haul in a bulletlike pass from quarterback Bill Donckers, who would later play for San Diego State and the NFL's St. Louis Cardinals.
"It was like 'Friday Night Lights' when I played," Day said. "We had big crowds. It was a very blue-collar town, and it followed its football team."
While Donckers went elsewhere to college, Renton offensive tackle Tom Nelson and Day, nicknamed "Mr. Meat and Mr. Fleet," accepted Washington scholarships and were joined there a year later by Indians defensive tackle and the recently deceased Gordy Guinn.
In 1967, Mark Day was part of a Renton High School football team that was as powerful and unbeatable as any put together in or around Seattle. He supplied the speed, settling under long touchdown heaves sent his way by an NFL-bound quarterback. He shared in the surplus of Division I scholarships showered on this group.
Forty-two years later, Day is a detective sergeant for the Renton Police Department. He pulls a 6 a.m.-to-4 p.m. shift four times weekly. He supervises crime scenes, collects evidence and pulls criminal records.
What has happened to this man besides catching passes and catching suspects is why there should be a holiday named for him.
Day, 59, has survived massive kidney failure and multiple myeloma cancer against great odds, each time requiring bone-marrow transplants to kick-start his health. Eight- een months ago, his kidneys were shut down by a virulent strain of salmonella poisoning. He doesn't know how or where he contracted it, only that it was extra-venomous.
"I died twice, and they brought me back," Day said. "One time, I was in a coma for a week. I woke up, and I was blinded by it. I was bleeding from the brain. My wife said I went into a seizure. The doctor thought I had died. He said, 'He's gone.' "
Ten years earlier, he learned a cancer had spread to his spine and with it came a 6-percent survival rate.
A bone-marrow transplant has been the solution for all of Day's life-threatening moments. As he explains it, this is no more intricate than having someone use a Black & Decker saw to drill into his backbone, blow compressed air to build up the bone and then Super-Glue everything back together.
"I am coming back," he said. "I'm on kidney dialysis and getting off it, free and clear."
Say this about Day, his life has never been mundane or boring.
As a Renton High senior, he played for a 10-0 football team that was considered the state's finest and received national attention. The Indians had just one close game that season, a 27-20 victory over Puyallup in the opener. They beat everyone else by 21 to 46 points.
Day scored 11 times, repeatedly slipping behind the opposing secondary to haul in a bulletlike pass from quarterback Bill Donckers, who would later play for San Diego State and the NFL's St. Louis Cardinals.
"It was like 'Friday Night Lights' when I played," Day said. "We had big crowds. It was a very blue-collar town, and it followed its football team."
While Donckers went elsewhere to college, Renton offensive tackle Tom Nelson and Day, nicknamed "Mr. Meat and Mr. Fleet," accepted Washington scholarships and were joined there a year later by Indians defensive tackle and the recently deceased Gordy Guinn.
Julie Becker
Julie Becker knew how to light up a room. She lived a life filled with laughter, love and a soulful wisdom that touched each person she met. Her vitality and enthusiasm were contagious and inspiring.
Jules LOVED to dance. She danced her whole life, beginning lessons at the age of 3. She attended the Washington School of Ballet in DC for her first 2 years of high school and performed in the Nutcracker at Kennedy Center as a candy cane during that time. When Jules danced she felt love, peace and clarity. Her soul was free.
Jules was passionate about her children, dancing, decorating, gardening, natural health, personal growth, and experiencing each moment with all of her senses.
Jules knew she had cancer 2 months before she was diagnosed with bile-duct liver cancer. After feeling a hard ness beneath her right rib Jules went to the doctor. She was told it was a pulled muscle. Julie never believed it. She would lift her shirt for anyone, anywhere, and say “feel this”. A month later she went back to the doctor and an ultrasound revealed an enormous tumor encased in her liver. She had 75% of her liver removed in January 2006 and recovered beautifully. She was back dancing with her Adult Jazz class (No Limits – featured dancers for DFAC) by fall.
In September 2006 Jules was given a clean bill of health. But over the holidays in Hawaii she began to feel nauseous and flew home early. On January 3rd, 2007 Jules was told she had 2 to 6 months to live. The cancer had returned with a vengeance in her intestinal wall. She thanked the doctor for all he had done and went home to make plans for how she would live her last days. Jules and her friends planned a Living Memorial where she was able to touch and be touched by hundreds of people who came to say goodbye. She then cuddled up with her dog Rocky, her husband Michael and three children, Ali 11, Joe 9 and Frankie 6 and bravely faced her final journey.
Julie passed away peacefully at her home in Redmond on April 13, 2007 at the age of 44. It was 100 days from the day she was diagnosed terminal. She is missed every day by those who loved her.
In her own words from her living memorial, Jules shared this message about life:
“We are not here just to survive and live long. We are here to live life in all its dimensions. To experience life in its true richness, exploring all available possibilities, never holding back from life’s challenges, pushing forward in curiosity. Only then does life fully bloom. My life has bloomed, and for that I thank you.”
Jules LOVED to dance. She danced her whole life, beginning lessons at the age of 3. She attended the Washington School of Ballet in DC for her first 2 years of high school and performed in the Nutcracker at Kennedy Center as a candy cane during that time. When Jules danced she felt love, peace and clarity. Her soul was free.
Jules was passionate about her children, dancing, decorating, gardening, natural health, personal growth, and experiencing each moment with all of her senses.
Jules knew she had cancer 2 months before she was diagnosed with bile-duct liver cancer. After feeling a hard ness beneath her right rib Jules went to the doctor. She was told it was a pulled muscle. Julie never believed it. She would lift her shirt for anyone, anywhere, and say “feel this”. A month later she went back to the doctor and an ultrasound revealed an enormous tumor encased in her liver. She had 75% of her liver removed in January 2006 and recovered beautifully. She was back dancing with her Adult Jazz class (No Limits – featured dancers for DFAC) by fall.
In September 2006 Jules was given a clean bill of health. But over the holidays in Hawaii she began to feel nauseous and flew home early. On January 3rd, 2007 Jules was told she had 2 to 6 months to live. The cancer had returned with a vengeance in her intestinal wall. She thanked the doctor for all he had done and went home to make plans for how she would live her last days. Jules and her friends planned a Living Memorial where she was able to touch and be touched by hundreds of people who came to say goodbye. She then cuddled up with her dog Rocky, her husband Michael and three children, Ali 11, Joe 9 and Frankie 6 and bravely faced her final journey.
Julie passed away peacefully at her home in Redmond on April 13, 2007 at the age of 44. It was 100 days from the day she was diagnosed terminal. She is missed every day by those who loved her.
In her own words from her living memorial, Jules shared this message about life:
“We are not here just to survive and live long. We are here to live life in all its dimensions. To experience life in its true richness, exploring all available possibilities, never holding back from life’s challenges, pushing forward in curiosity. Only then does life fully bloom. My life has bloomed, and for that I thank you.”
Clara Viviana 1974 - 2009
Viviana Ulloa was born in Bogota Colombia on November 13, 1974 . Grew up in Panama and at the age of 15 moved to the United States. She graduated from Laguna Hills High School in 1992, attended Saddle Valley Community College where she discovered her passion for psychology and anthropology. In order to keep her family together Viviana moved to Madison, Wisconsin where she attended the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
During her undergraduate career Viviana was an active member of the community .She volunteered for the Domestic Abuse Intervention Services, and she was also a cofounder of CEPLA an organization committed to help Latino students succeed in high school. Viviana graduated in 1998 with a double major in anthropology and psychology and a women’s studies certificate. After graduation Viviana work at Centro Hispano, a nonprofit organization in Madison. Then she went on to obtain her Masters Degree in counseling psychology. Upon receiving her masters, she was a family advocate for Head Start and at the same time found out she was pregnant. After the birth of her child, she went back to work as a child therapist for the Mental Health Center of Dane County.
As a single mom Viviana moved with her mother and daughter to Kirkland in the winter of 2004 in order to live closer to her brothers and nieces. Upon arriving in the Seattle area Viviana started working for Consejo, a non profit counseling and referral service for the Latino community. She is currently employed by the city of Seattle as a contract and grants monitor for Seattle team for youth, a program designed to help youths achieve in school.
During the summer of 2007 Viviana began having symptoms of anemia, so she went in for an ultrasound of her uterus, and was diagnosed with endometriosis. The Doctor recommended a full hysterectomy, during surgery they discovered she had stage IV stomach cancer that had metastasized to her, intestine,ovaries,cervix, spleen, and lymph nodes. They removed her reproductive system and another surgery was to come.
The oncologist was not hopeful, but if there was a chance it would be with Dr. Gary Mann at UW and Cancer Care Alliance. His procedure is experimental and is only performed in a few places in
the US. The 17 hour surgery involved the removing of Viviana’s stomach and affected areas, and the reconstruction of her digestive system. For the second half of the surgery Dr. Mann lowered Viviana’s body temperature in order to pump hot chemotherapy drugs into her abdominal cavity for 2 hours. They sutured her up as the chemo was flowing over her organs and proceeded to shake Viviana for the next two hours. This is known as Shake and Bake according to Viviana and her family. At the end of the surgery they took out the chemo pump and stitched her up and sent her off to a long and painful recovery.
At the end of the Summer Viviana had barely recovered from the surgery when she started on a new and aggressive form of Chemotherapy, one of the only ones to have an effect on Stomach Cancer. The chemo consisted of a 24 hour, 7 days a week infusion of 5FU, and on every third week she would get an all day infusion of two other types of chemo. Viviana had to endure the chemotherapy for 6 months. Her day of freedom was February 11, 2008. She lived those next few months with vigor and life, traveling to Cancun, Mexico, Orange County , CA, Managua, Nicaragua and Disney World! It was almost like she knew that she had to spend these moments with her loved ones because her cancer was aggressive and coming back. In the fall of 2008 she developed multiple tumors in her rectum and intestine, she underwent radiation for a few weeks on the tumor in her rectum, which was a very painful process. Event ually she went to see an oncologist at Fred Hutchinson, who told her that the cancer had spread to her lungs and there was no longer anything that they could do for her. This was a tragic moment in the lives of her family as we had to come to grips with the fact that we were going to lose our sweet Viviana. Dr. Whiting told us that she only had 6 weeks to live, and that she needed to enter hospice care.
Hospice care was a godsend and a curse. We couldn’t wait for the hospice nurse to come to the house and tell us all of Viviana’s vitals and whatnot, but then, we would have a conversation out of earshot as to how much longer she thought Viviana had to live. This was the hardest thing to hear and go through as a family, putting a time frame on somebody’s life. Eventually Viviana succumbed to the disease and died on March 15, 2009, almost 6 weeks to the day after entering hospice care. Viviana left behind a 7 year old daughter, 2 brothers, 2 sister in laws, countless extended family members, best friends and 2 very devastated parents.
During her undergraduate career Viviana was an active member of the community .She volunteered for the Domestic Abuse Intervention Services, and she was also a cofounder of CEPLA an organization committed to help Latino students succeed in high school. Viviana graduated in 1998 with a double major in anthropology and psychology and a women’s studies certificate. After graduation Viviana work at Centro Hispano, a nonprofit organization in Madison. Then she went on to obtain her Masters Degree in counseling psychology. Upon receiving her masters, she was a family advocate for Head Start and at the same time found out she was pregnant. After the birth of her child, she went back to work as a child therapist for the Mental Health Center of Dane County.
As a single mom Viviana moved with her mother and daughter to Kirkland in the winter of 2004 in order to live closer to her brothers and nieces. Upon arriving in the Seattle area Viviana started working for Consejo, a non profit counseling and referral service for the Latino community. She is currently employed by the city of Seattle as a contract and grants monitor for Seattle team for youth, a program designed to help youths achieve in school.
During the summer of 2007 Viviana began having symptoms of anemia, so she went in for an ultrasound of her uterus, and was diagnosed with endometriosis. The Doctor recommended a full hysterectomy, during surgery they discovered she had stage IV stomach cancer that had metastasized to her, intestine,ovaries,cervix, spleen, and lymph nodes. They removed her reproductive system and another surgery was to come.
The oncologist was not hopeful, but if there was a chance it would be with Dr. Gary Mann at UW and Cancer Care Alliance. His procedure is experimental and is only performed in a few places in
the US. The 17 hour surgery involved the removing of Viviana’s stomach and affected areas, and the reconstruction of her digestive system. For the second half of the surgery Dr. Mann lowered Viviana’s body temperature in order to pump hot chemotherapy drugs into her abdominal cavity for 2 hours. They sutured her up as the chemo was flowing over her organs and proceeded to shake Viviana for the next two hours. This is known as Shake and Bake according to Viviana and her family. At the end of the surgery they took out the chemo pump and stitched her up and sent her off to a long and painful recovery.
At the end of the Summer Viviana had barely recovered from the surgery when she started on a new and aggressive form of Chemotherapy, one of the only ones to have an effect on Stomach Cancer. The chemo consisted of a 24 hour, 7 days a week infusion of 5FU, and on every third week she would get an all day infusion of two other types of chemo. Viviana had to endure the chemotherapy for 6 months. Her day of freedom was February 11, 2008. She lived those next few months with vigor and life, traveling to Cancun, Mexico, Orange County , CA, Managua, Nicaragua and Disney World! It was almost like she knew that she had to spend these moments with her loved ones because her cancer was aggressive and coming back. In the fall of 2008 she developed multiple tumors in her rectum and intestine, she underwent radiation for a few weeks on the tumor in her rectum, which was a very painful process. Event ually she went to see an oncologist at Fred Hutchinson, who told her that the cancer had spread to her lungs and there was no longer anything that they could do for her. This was a tragic moment in the lives of her family as we had to come to grips with the fact that we were going to lose our sweet Viviana. Dr. Whiting told us that she only had 6 weeks to live, and that she needed to enter hospice care.
Hospice care was a godsend and a curse. We couldn’t wait for the hospice nurse to come to the house and tell us all of Viviana’s vitals and whatnot, but then, we would have a conversation out of earshot as to how much longer she thought Viviana had to live. This was the hardest thing to hear and go through as a family, putting a time frame on somebody’s life. Eventually Viviana succumbed to the disease and died on March 15, 2009, almost 6 weeks to the day after entering hospice care. Viviana left behind a 7 year old daughter, 2 brothers, 2 sister in laws, countless extended family members, best friends and 2 very devastated parents.
Gary Yost
A week before his tenth birthday, Gary complained of shoulder pain after soccer practice in June 2007. Gary is not a complainer, so we found this somewhat unsettling. We took him to the pediatrician expecting to hear news of a pulled muscle. Following an X-ray to rule out a cracked rib, the doctor told us that Gary had a mass in his chest cavity and he wanted us to head up to Seattle Children’s immediately. We got in the car and headed north from his office. It was 6:30pm on June 25th of last year. The tests, scans and blood draws began. A mere 18 hours after our pediatrician appointment for what was supposed to be a pulled muscle, we were told that Gary had cancer – Ewing’s Sarcoma, a rare form bone cancer. The scans showed a tumor in Gary’s chest cavity the size of a softball. It was wrapped around at least three of his ribs and was pressing on his lung. Only twenty-four hours after leaving the pediatrician’s office, Gary was admitted to the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance Unit at Children’s where his bone-marrow was aspirated for testing and a central line was placed in his chest. The news of Gary’s cancer-free bone marrow was the first good news we’d received. Fourteen rounds of intense chemo therapy followed each of which required a 3 or 5 day admission to the hospital and several blood transfusions. In October of 2007, about half way through his chemotherapy treatments, Gary had surgery to remove the tumor. He had three ribs removed and a titanium rib, some wires and Gortex put in their place. Although the surgery was terrifying and overwhelming, we were very happy to hear that Gary would not need radiation therapy because the removed tumor contained only dead cancer cells. Thankfully Gary’s chemotherapy ended on March 1st, 2008 – the four of us celebrated with sparkling cider and a good hard cry. His end of treatment scans showed no signs of cancer. His three, six, nine month scans showed no signs of cancer. His one year scans showed no signs of cancer. Life is getting back to ‘normal’.
