My father was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma. He was in stage three of a three stage cancer. How could this have happened? Why wasn’t this caught sooner in his blood work? My father was a proud, strong, stocky man of Portuguese decent.

Over the years, I broke the shell he built around himself and we became close friends. He was my mentor and my hero. Dr. Faig ordered the commencement of chemotherapy, which kept Dad in the hospital for an extra couple of days. This gave us the time needed to find a place for him. We eventually found a rehabilitation facility that would accept him until he was transferred to an assisted living facility.

He would spend the next eight months undergoing chemotherapy. His full head of thick, salt and pepper, hair fell out. The treatment caused nausea, vomiting, and rapid weight loss. The cancer overpowered the medication in its relentless attack of his skeletal frame, which wracked him with pain and contorting his body to the point he lost approximately 10” in height. I hid my tears as I bathed his delicate skin now covered in bed sores. His paper thin skin could not hide the protruding bones of his frame. Dad had become a mere shell of his former self. The cancer was eating him alive. It had no mercy! Two months earlier Dad had decided to forgo any further chemotherapy saying "I’m tired and I don’t want to be sick any more".

Therefore, it was time to place Dad into a Hospice home. Like a pack of wolves attacking its prey, the cancer was making its final assault. He was frightened to die, and was going to fight death until the very end. In the final minutes of his life, dad struggled to breath. His chest heaved with each cycle of air, appearing like he was no longer in control of his body. Eventually his body settled and his breathing became rhythmic and mechanical in nature.

More and more time lapsed between each breath until it stopped. It took 3 to 4 minutes before his heart stopped, and at 02:50am on July 18, 2003 my Dad passed away.

Mom’s oncologist requested that she have a mammogram every six months, in which she did, as she was considered a high risk for breast cancer. After a couple of years and no abnormal tests, the oncologist told Mom that she could go back to yearly exams. Months passed without incident until Mom started to suffer from severe fatigue and had to be rushed to the emergency room, with testing to follow.

Shortly after Christmas of 2004, Mom called to inform me that she had tested positive for breast cancer, and that more test were required to determine the exact prognosis. Mom indeed had breast cancer which had migrated to her bone marrow.

At the end of August, Mom began experiencing cognitive behavioral problems; slurred speech, lack of balance, and severe headaches. On Labor Day, Mom called my wife Jane and I to inform us that the cancer had spread to her brain. She was to undergo 15 days of full brain radiation immediately. After only 3 treatments Mom was rushed to the emergency room where doctors told us that the problems she was experiencing were likely a result of her radiation treatments and that he would do follow-up testing to be certain.

At 11:00 Saturday night, she was finally settled into her room and we all gave her kisses and told her how much we loved her. At 8:00 Sunday morning, we arrived at the hospital and were relieved to see that Mom was sleeping comfortably. Unfortunately our relief was quickly erased as we were informed that all pain medication had been terminated, and Mom was slipping into a coma. Mom was drifting in and out of consciousness now. Mom’s coma was due to pressure on her brain caused by swelling from the cancer. At 11:00 Sunday night, Mom’s oncologist's prognosis was bleak, and he felt that Mom would not survive for more than two weeks.

In fewer than 12 hours our hopes had been dashed and we were now determining how my Mother’s life would finally end. At 1:50 Saturday morning, on September 17, 2005 in her sixth day in a coma and with her children at her bedside Mom passed away with all the dignity and grace one could ask for. She was truly an exquisite lady to the end.

My cancer story is one of the better ones.

I had hypothyroidism since age 18. I was medicated, and monitored by physician's I worked with. At age 25, I had a Doctor’s appointment and the physician was concerned about the 'feel' of my thyroid. I got a needle aspiration, and it showed atypical, rapidly growing cells. It was decided that I would get a right lobectomy, and possible total thyroidectomy if the cells were found on the left. I was recently divorced, with a 2 yr. old, and I had just started nursing school. I decided to have the surgery over Christmas break so I wouldn't miss any school. The surgery took over 4 hours (was expected to take 1-2). I awoke in my room the next day, and met a new Doctor, an endocrinologist, who informed me that in addition to the atypical cells they found cancer in both lobes of my thyroid. They checked multiple lymph nodes, and removed two of my parathyroid glands. I was in shock...after the word cancer, I don't think I heard much else. I was so afraid I was going to die, and my daughter wouldn't remember me. I received the largest radioactive iodine treatment you could get as an outpatient. I had to spend time away from people, especially my daughter. My body fluids were "radioactive". I then had to get off all thyroid medicine so I could get follow up body scans to detect any thyroid cells that could be in my body. I recovered and in time felt like my old self. I was able to graduate nursing school without any delay. I am now remarried, my oldest daughter is 15, and my baby is 8. I have been a practicing nurse for 10 years. I am considered cancer free!

Michael D. Gomes Contractors Against Cancer