Two days before I was to begin my last semester of college in January, 1993, I was hospitalized with what then appeared to be a case of active tuberculosis. I was twenty-four. After extensive testing, it was determined that I did not have TB, but was diagnosed with Stage IVb Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I had a port-a-cath placed in my chest and began combination MOPP/ABV chemotherapy.

After four cycles of this therapy it became apparent that my disease was refractory, or not going away quickly enough to give me good odds of remission with traditional treatment. It was proposed that I undergo a bone marrow transplant. I was fortunate enough to have no disease in my bone marrow, so an autologous transplant was possible (no donor required).

The transplant was done in September, 1993. The hospital stay lasted for thirty five days, followed by an extensive period of time at home where I remained isolated from the world at large. By Christmas I began to feel better, though still weak. Shortly after the New Year, just as I was about to undergo "clean-up" radiation, I began to experience low grade fevers nightly. Scans revealed that I still had a considerable amount of disease. This was frightening and disappointing news. The radiation dosage was increased, and the treatment lasted into February, 1994.

Shortly after the treatments ended I began to experience shortness of breath and high fevers. I had developed radiation pneumonitis, which was treated with significant doses of prednisone for the next eight months. This caused a lot of weight gain and general lethargy.

In the fall of 1994 I completed my college education, but the strain of doing so left me very weak and tired. For several months I concentrated on trying to become well. I had a recurrence scare, which turned out to be scar tissue remaining in the lungs, and was not Hodgkin's Disease. In September of 1995 I attempted to rejoin the workforce, only to find that I was still experiencing shortness of breath and fatigue to a degree that I could not maintain a work schedule. Feeling depressed, I went to my doctor and eventually began a pulmonary rehabilitation program.

The program finished in March, 1996, and most of April was spent retesting my pulmonary abilities and scanning for any signs on cancer. I had somewhat improved, and still no signs of disease, now two years in remission and three years since diagnosis. Encouraged, I had the port-a-cath (finally) removed. I cried tears of joy (and drug induced) after the operation, finally feeling free of a longtime reminder that I couldn't escape.

I've spent most of the summer of 1996 looking for work once again, believing that this time I will be strong enough to maintain a job, though still not strong enough to pursue my original career goal of teaching elementary schoolchildren. That will have to wait for awhile, for now I am looking forward to getting into a routine and building my strength.

Very best wishes,

Susan Whelan, July 23, 1996

See Susan's website for an extensive version of her story.

Write to Susan! suzyn@cyberenet.net

©1996 Diana L.E.G. Hinnrichs