SURVIVOR

A five-year survivor provides support for a young mother of three, after being stricken with news that she has breast cancer

Stephanie Urry, a 40 year-old mother of three was diagnosed with breast cancer last June and is currently recovering from a double mastectomy in February.
Photos by J. Peter Hvidsten

Last spring, I was given the opportunity to share my survivor story in this publication in support of an amazing event; the Canadian Cancer Society’s Relay For Life. 

Being a five year survivor of a terminal diagnosis is nothing short of miraculous but ultimately my story sends a clear message, and that message is hope.  The story makes clear that cancer isn’t choosy, it can come knocking on your door at anytime, when you might least expect it and it doesn’t much care if you have young children and bills to pay.

As a young mother, my story offered a unique perspective and as a result, I have been privileged to meet and develop supportive relationships with a number of young cancer survivors in Scugog. Unfortunately, upon a cancer diagnosis, there isn’t always a lot of people you can talk to, and so few know what to say.

How can you tell your ‘healthy’ friend you hate chemo, you’re afraid to die and who will take care of the kids when you’re gone - when her biggest concern of the day is getting the laundry done and dinner on the table.
 
Through a friend of a friend, I came in contact with a truly beautiful young Port Perry mom. From the first hello over the phone, a friendship of sharing hope and support was born. Stephanie, 41, is an attractive triathalete, married to her handsome fire-fighting husband Scott for 10 years and mother to three beautiful children; Nicole, 10, and twin boys Liam and Jordan, 7.

Stephanie Urry of Port Perry, right, is pictured above during a visit with her good friend and mentor Tammy MacIssac-Horvath in January. Tammy is a five-year survivor of cancer.

She is also battling an aggressive form of breast cancer, diagnosed in June 2008. Previously healthy, active and vibrant, Steph has understandably struggled with eight cycles of a toxic chemo cocktail that has hit her particularly hard, as has a sense of hopelessness, isolation and depression, side effects of both the diagnosis and the treatment. 

When Stephanie and I first spoke, I could hear the fear and sadness in her voice, the unspoken agony that she might not be there to see her kids grow up.

Through tears, we shared our chemo stories - like salty old men weaving dusty war tales, with the scars to back it up. I said the things I knew she needed to hear, saying the words only a survivor knows.

We shared our hopes and our fears and our dreams of the future, with hair back on our heads and hope back in our hearts... back to lives without cancer.

Of course, that life is gone, because once you have been impacted by this disease, you are forever changed; for the better I think, but changed none the less.

We also spend  time talking about things other than cancer... kids, husbands, trips, dogs; it’s important to build our friendship on more than just the heavy stuff. 

No one reacts to a cancer diagnosis in the same way; some survivors need to run as fast as they can away from it all, not wanting to talk about cancer, acknowledge their experience or give it one more minute of their lives.

Some get stuck in the mud of despair and some sail through. There is no one way to cope with cancer, there is no magic pill or mantra to make it go away or get better.

It’s an experience where you learn how difficult it is to trust others with your life; where you are forced to embrace powerlessness and uncertainty and where you strive to somehow find hope.

Cancer is a journey, a going up Mt.Everest backwards in a snowstorm kind of journey, with no guarantee you’ll ever get to the top, no matter how hard you try.

But, by virtue of that fact, we are survivors, we are strong, we are hope. We as a community don’t talk enough about survivorship; survivorship is something one must claim upon their diagnosis.

To be a survivor is to embody hope; to be empowered and to commit to fighting back. 

Stephanie and I maintain a special friendship because of what was an immediate connection, tied together with the strands of shared cancer diagnoses. She is doing so well now; she has recovered beautifully from a double mastectomy and is undergoing several weeks of radiation.

We plan on having weekly radiation outings, where she gets a quick zap then we head to the mall!
 
Injecting some fun and friendship into the mundane task of daily trips to the hospital for radiation will help the time pass, and just maybe give Steph something to look forward to.

Stephanie, front, shares a much needed laugh during a visit with her good friend and mentor, Tammy earlier this year. Tammy is a five-year survivor of cancer and a constant ‘rock’ for Stephanie.

Remembering my radiation days well, it helped me to make plans with friends during that time so that I had more to look forward to than lying on a cold table, alone in the dark getting radiated.

Stephanie has hopes and plans for the future (including a triathalon!) and still has a smile on her face; she’s just returned from a wonderful Florida vacation with her family and her family has welcomed a new puppy.

This is the truest form of strength and bravery one can witness; she too has the generosity and depth to share her story to provide hope for others. Stephanie and I plan on celebrating our survivorship, wearing our yellow t-shirts proudly at Relay for Life next month in Sunderland.

We look forward to seeing you at Relay.

By Tammy MacIsaac-Horvath
Special to Focus on Scugog