Gin•ger / 1. Liveliness.

My name is Ginger. Sure, the Internet lists a few other meanings for my name, but this is the one I like best because it has the word “live” in it—and that’s what I intend to do. If I’m being completely honest, it’s also the perfect definition for my spunky personality.

Here’s a word that does NOT define me—CANCER. It is not who I am, but it is what I have. Here’s my story. . .  

Phase one—“So, I’m like this REALLY positive person, and what you’re telling me really doesn’t work for me.”

In December 2010, at age 43, I was diagnosed with stage 4 non-smoker lung cancer, which means it had metastasized in three places. While in the ER for what I assumed was severe asthma, the doctors discovered 23 ounces of fluid around my heart. They performed an emergency surgery to drain the fluid and learned that, in fact, I had lung cancer.

In 2011, I spent several months undergoing aggressive chemotherapy treatments and had surgery to remove the tumor and lower lobe of my left lung. 

In January 2012, I underwent several rounds of radiation that ultimately caused a perforation in my esophagus. That's when things got bad. An infection spread through my body forcing me to literally fight for my life. I spent eight months on a feeding tube, underwent seven grueling surgeries and stayed more than 12 weeks in the hospital. On the recommendation of my oncologist, I was admitted to Stanford Hospital. Upon my arrival, I still couldn’t swallow, could no longer cough and my white blood cell count was 28 (normal is between 5 and 10). One major surgery, one minor procedure, one Christmas morning and one New Year’s day later, I was finally discharged on January 3, 2013. Through my innate power of positivity, and prayers from family and friends, I fought and I won. Of course I did. Remember, my name’s Ginger.

Phase two—“Life is Good”

All of 2013 and 2014, I reveled in my remission. Back to the work I love and fun activities with my 12 year-old-daughter Sierra. This would be a great place to end my story, but apparently somebody got the impression that I like a challenge . . .

Phase three—“Bring it on”

At the end of December 2014, I got headaches for a week straight that got so bad I started dry heaving from the pain. I ended up in the Stanford ER, where 14 hours, an MRI and a CT scan later, they found seven tumors in my brain. Yes—SEVEN! That wasn’t a typo. At the beginning of January 2015, I had brain surgery to remove the tumor that was causing the pain. I was in and out in only two days—because, well, that’s the way I roll!

In February 2015, I qualified for a clinical trial at Stanford Hospital that would hopefully shrink the six remaining tumors, but after three treatments, the MRI showed that the chemo wasn’t working. In May, my radiation oncologist felt that since there were no new tumors and the current ones increased minimally, I would be a good candidate for Cyberknife rather than resorting to full-brain radiation. Currently, I’ve done one week of Cyberknife treatments and am on a two-week rest and recovery, and then I go back for another week. Cyberknife has an 80-90% success rate. By July, I will know the status of my condition.

Well, I realize I’m leaving you in the middle of a really captivating story, but that’s kind of the great thing about life. We don’t know what’s going to happen until it does. I can tell you this, though—I may have cancer…but it doesn’t have me!