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Every cancer journey, major medical diagnosis and chronic illness is unique to the individual, but each of us has a personal connection to these circumstances. Rural residents share additional burdens regarding access to medical care and resources for improved quality of life. I am not a medical professional, but as someone who has been navigating the discrepancies, and few improvements, in medical treatment and survivorship between urban and rural patients, I do have a story to tell.
The fact that I don’t remember the exact date of my cancer diagnosis without a calendar reminder proves how far I’ve come from the all-consuming experience. July 30, 2024, an alarm sounded on my phone reminding me of nine years since receiving the phone call that brought my world to a halt and tested my faith. I had a husband, a young child and bonus kids. I was a handful of years into a new career and making plans for the future. Lacking an extensive family history, and no apparent symptoms of a deadly disease, cancer was not on my radar. A miraculous series of events led me from my primary doctor to a mammogram. An incredibly painful biopsy followed with rushed overnight results that would shatter all my plans in a moment. The test showed I had Stage 3 invasive breast cancer at the age of 31. The hows and whys and complete shock took over my mind as the doctor explained the technicalities and medical jargon I would come to memorize and recite hundreds of times in my future. From the driver’s seat of my car, barely holding onto my phone and determined not to cry, I managed a simple “what do we do now?” She assured me that all the referrals were being made, and I only had to absorb the information and wait for the barrage of telephone calls from schedulers. The time span of less than five weeks included multiple scans, blood tests and a surgery to place a port in my chest. It would be 33 days from that diagnosis call to my first chemotherapy treatment. My rigid habit of being a rule follower would become an endearing trait to my oncology team as the extensive list of dates and times on my choreographed medical calendar would become my lifeline. It would be 14 months before I could catch my breath and assess what had happened to me and my family, and a total of nine years to date before I could bring you the knowledge I have gained. This survival of mine has come at immense sacrifice to my family, our finances, my physical body and mental health. It has taken longer than anticipated to recover some of what was lost, and at times I have felt the physical distance between myself and service providers to be an additional barrier to my full recovery. I know that if I am experiencing these struggles, there are many others who need assistance to achieve their best outcomes. I am excited to discuss how I managed specific situations, along with other’s personal experiences, from treatment and surgeries to medical bills and mental health. Professionals from their fields will weigh in on resources available in the rural communities and how to choose the path that works best for your situation. You will find out what I had to fight for, what I would have done differently and where I found hope. I hope you’ll join me for the length of this series as I discuss the struggles, successes, losses and lessons to be learned from the most difficult season of my life, and how having this conversation can improve the lives of others in your community.
Follow Stephanie’s Cancer Survivor Story, part of a limited series - exclusive to Ponca City Monthly.
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