Alissa

My name is Alissa, and I am proud to be a 32-year-old cervical cancer survivor.

My journey with cancer began about four years ago when I had an abnormal pap smear and colposcopy that showed pre-cancerous lesions. At the time, I was in my late 20s, and I was married and hoping to start a family. All I could think was whether this pre-cancer would rob me of my chance to have children. At the time my doctor,

who I trusted as if he were God, said that we would simply monitor the lesions. He highlighted that at some point I would need a hysterectomy, but I would more than likely be fine. Because he said I would be fine, I started planning a future in which I would keep a close watch on my condition but still live my life.

A few months later I became pregnant with my first child who I named Kayden Williams. Throughout my pregnancy, doctors monitored me closely, and after my son’s birth, I had another colposcopy. The test showed that cells were not moving, and once again, I heard my doctor say, “Everything is fine.”

One year later, I became pregnant again. This time, I had a baby girl, Ava Kathryn. During her birth, I requested that the doctor perform a hysterectomy along with my C-section. I had become terrified of getting pregnant again. The doctor advised me to wait six to 12 months so my body would have time to heal. I thought I was being a good patient by listening to him. On the other hand, my mother was a constant worrier, and she insisted that I not wait long enough for the pre-cancer to turn into cancer. I tried to reassure her by emphasizing that my doctor was taking good care of me.

Approximately eight months later in December 2007, I had a hysterectomy. My recovery seemed to go well, and I bounced back. This past January, I went to my first checkup and expected the surgeon to check my wounds and send me on my way. When he walked into the room, I was in a great mood and made a joke. It was then that I noticed his demeanor was much more serious than mine, and my life changed in an instant. He told me, “You don’t need to undress. I don’t need to check you. Your cancer has spread.” I was shocked and dismayed.

I began to wonder whether a surgery delay had allowed the cancer to prosper. You see the surgery had been postponed from November 2007 to December 2007 because I had not completed my pre-surgery requirements. He dismissed this, and I asked, “What do you mean cancer? I thought the cells were pre-cancerous. What happened?” He had no real answers because he was a surgeon, not an oncologist. Still, I needed to ask, “What now?” He advised me to make an appointment with my regular doctor – the one I had trusted so fully up until this point.

I called my mom on the way home from the surgeon’s office. I was bawling and hysterical, and she was crying and beyond upset. She wanted to know what this meant, and I had to repeatedly say I don’t know. I had left the hospital with no information and no knowledge of my disease or my future.

Later that week my mother, husband and I met with my primary physician. We went in wanting to find out as much as we could, and sadly, we hit a brick wall. My once amazing all-knowing doctor was rude and refused to answer most of our questions. He simply gave a lot of “I don’t knows” and was defensive – seemingly trying to save himself from a malpractice lawsuit. I asked him what was next for me. He told me a CAT scan, and he indicated that the worst case scenario would show that the cancer had spread from my cervix to my lungs. If so, I would probably have just a year to live. I was just 32-years-old, and I had two small babies!

I had a CAT scan and PET scan. Both showed numerous nodules in my lungs, but doctors couldn’t say definitively whether these were cancer. Instead, they just told me that my condition was rare and sent me for further tests.

In terms of treatment, they told me to do radiation and go on with my life. I did a total of eight weeks of radiation, and the experience was traumatic – especially since no one was certain that the nodules were cancerous. Throughout the ordeal, I hoped and prayed that the doctors’ guess was correct and this wasn’t unnecessary painful and debilitating treatment.

A month after I finished radiation, I had a CAT scan and then went home to take a nap. During my nap, my husband came in to say that the doctor was on the phone. The doctor asked me to come to his office. I knew this was not a good sign, so I told him to just tell me whatever it was he needed to say. He explained that the nodules in my lungs had grown (despite the radiation). Shocked and scared, I hung up on him and began sobbing. I immediately called my mother. We talked, yelled, screamed, blamed and cursed, and then, I went to see the doctor. My radiologist was amazing and compassionate. He explained everything to me and showed me the two CAT scans. He said that my survival rate was about 15 percent, and if I were lucky, I would have one to two years left to live. He suggested that I start chemotherapy, and after more tests, I was diagnosed with a Stage IV cervical cancer that had spread to my uterus and lungs.

Now this is the story of my last few months. After all of this worry, I decided to become my own advocate, and I educated myself. When with doctors, I asked questions and demanded answers. Since my initial diagnosis, I have had second and third opinions. All of these doctors tell me to do chemo as palliative care. They do not believe I can survive.

I have read about chemo’s risks, and when I was at this crossroads, I prayed and asked myself and God if this were really the end of my story, would I want to be sick and not enjoy the time I have left with my family and kids. I want to live, but not for just a year. I plan to be here for many years to come.

Through my research, I started to believe that chemo was not my only option. I tried to find the root cause of my cancer because how can something be fixed if you don’t know how or why it was broken in the first place? I started reading. I sought advice from people who are truly experts – cervical cancer survivors, and I heard some great advice.

For starters, I started following an alkaline diet. I now eat fresh organic vegetables, fruit and fish. So far, I have lost 95 pounds. I drink only filtered, purified water, and I take vitamin supplements. I hired a naturopath who is great and believes in what I am doing. I evaluated my relationships to ensure that I was surrounded by caring people. I even switched oncologists. I also started doing acupuncture and exercising. I now listen to my body, and I try not to take too many prescriptions or toxins. When I was trying to decide whether I was going to do chemo, my pastor told me that sometimes laughter is better a better healer than any drug.

I had my next CAT scan three months after I decided to not take the chemo. The decision to skip chemo went against doctors’ advice, and for the first time in my life, I was going against authority and possibly gambling with my health. I figured I could always try chemo if this new lifestyle did not work.

The CAT scan showed that the cancer is now stable. This was the hope I needed. My next CAT scan was three months after this one, and the cancer was still stable. Now, I am trying to live with my cancer just as someone who has diabetes continues to live. My current doctors still suggest chemo, but because I am stable, I resist.

I am still looking for alternatives. I have a rare type of cervical cancer, and doctors have little knowledge of successful treatments. I am doing research on a trail for Vitamin C boosts and immunotherapy. These treatments lack the awful side effects, and some patients have had success. What I know is that I am a fighter with a long life ahead of me.

Unfortunately, there have been costs. The financial burden has taken a toll. Because I have refused chemo, I receive little support from doctors and my insurance. I have been denied coverage for alternative treatment, and I pay out-of-pocket for all of my services. I own a janitorial business and am unable to work due to the chemicals. Also, the stress tore my marriage apart.

I am constantly looking for financial support. I wish the medical community would recognize that my alternative treatment is working, and I am living. I am able to laugh and play with my kids. Thankfully, my family and friends have set up a health fund for me at Washington Mutual Bank, and we have organized fundraisers.

Throughout all of this, I am lucky to have come across the Tamika and Friends, Inc. I asked the organization for financial help, and the group shocked me when Tamika and Angela called to say that they would be sending me a check to cover one month of my house, car and utility bills. This was the best gift they could give me – a month without financial worry. Tamika and Angela told me that I could thank them by trying and surviving. I have almost made it for a year since my Stage IV diagnosis, and I plan to keep going. This journey has been an eye-opening experience, and I will never stop fighting. I am blessed to be a part of a community of survivors.