DMiller

LexieCat joined us on June 29, 2017 after taking advantage of low-dose CT screening for folks at risk for lung cancer. That test revealed a small highly suspicious single nodule that was surgically removed. She had a successful lobectomy; we all hoped she was one and done.
Lexie, a screen name for Teri Garvey, was a district attorney in Camden, NJ. In my younger years, Camden, across the Delaware River from Philly, where I lived, was an industrious town bustling with shipbuilding, soup making (the Campbells Soup Company), distilling, and iron working. The deindustrialization of America hit Camden hard and when the jobs left, crime moved in. Camden, now a hard-edged town, made enforcing the law a dangerous occupation. But Teri was a tough lady, fearless, courageous, and dedicated to justice.
We met in person during the 2018 LUNGevity Summit. She a lawyer, master of words and ideals, and I the engineer, entrenched in physics and things, discovered a fond friendship. Summits are our “shining city upon a hill”. Surviving lung cancer is a mighty forcing function. Our bond of survival transcends differences.
Teri became a bastion of support for our forum. A witty quip-master, her parody of new drug names was quintessential Garvey—“…it makes me think of Buzz Lightyear: “To Imfinzi and beyond.” On starting combination chemo with immunotherapy, she offered: “My motto, walk softly and carry a big drug.” After a clean scan report a member, knowing of her broken collar bone, suggested she not do a happy dance. Teri responded: “Sadly, you know me all too well. [My] Childhood nickname—‘Princess Grace.’”
Nearly 3 years after surgery, a scan showed tumors in her lung and sacrum. Her second-line treatment in September 2020 was combination chemo (carboplatin, Altima and Keytruda). Scans in April 2021 showed progression. She decided to join the arduous and risky Ivoance Tumor Infiltrating Lymphocytes (TIL) trial which ended early for her after 5 of 6 scheduled infusions. A good news scan was joyfully celebrated in July but by October, cancer cells were found while draining a pericardial effusion. Her defenses down from the TIL trial, Teri struggled to return to good health. She experienced a series of exhausting hospitalizations from October though the New Year that sapped her energy but not her fortitude. Cancer was beating her body not her spirit. In a private message, she sent me this photo with the quip: “I finally love my hair!” Teri chose hospice care on February 19, 2022. She passed surrounded by loved ones on February 25th.
Teri was one of those very special people I’ve met on my life’s journey. Like so many, her diagnosis was a surprise. Her attitude after diagnosis is one to emulate. Teri told me lung cancer would not change her. She lived every minute of every day caring for people, seeking justice for victims, and helping the unfortunate. She told me she chose the risky TIL trial because it might help someone down the road. It might indeed.
Stay the course.

Hello Everyone!
I'm not new. In fact, my Adenocarcinoma (Pancoast) lung cancer journey began in October 2004. I was diagnoised at State IV. Mets to chest wall and liver. I was given 2-6 months with treatment and 1 to 2 years with treatment. I've had reocurrences. One time, I was told to get my affairs in order. Yes, I'm still here. Thank God. It started off crazy (as I would imagine, everyone else did too). But, what I am searching for are connections.  People like myself. Someone to relate to. Anyone who has the same issues (or close) as mine. I have had my share of issues over the past (soon to be 17 years). The feelings, the thoughts they keep coming back to a word I discovered a few years ago. Guilt. Then there is the treatment. I'm still on Tarceva. I've been on Tarceva since 2005. Sometimes I feel stuck in time. The world moves on. My issues might be unique. I don't know. Sooo....
I have lost so many friends and family members during this 17 year survivorship. I can no longer count them on my fingers. I meet people at my checkups and I want to encourage them. But, I know in my heart they are asking WHY NOT ME??? You see, there is no reason. There is no medicine. No answer. Nothing I've done or didn't do. It was all out of my control. I've got nothing to say. No support. No advice. No secret. Nothing. That leaves me feeling like a failure. Like I'm not doing what was intended for me to do. But, what exactly is it I'm supposed to do? 
Doctors see me at my checkups. They read the scans. They check out new areas of interest. They say I am a miracle. I go back and forth between 3 month checkups to 6 month checkups and now again I have graduated to a yearly checkup. Please do not misunderstand, I am grateful. I am scared too. I am always scared. 
When I was diagnosed, my son was 6 years old. I grieved all the things I would miss. I have a 9 month old granddaughter now. Imagine that. I have everything to be grateful for. Yet, this old feeling seeps in. I think it's called Survivor Guilt. And I know it's a lonely place to be because there aren't many. I want more! I want you to know that I cry for you. All of you. I am so sorry that many of you are going through the worst fight of your life. Make everyday count. That's all I can do. That's all I did. I talk to God alot! I no longer take things for granted.  I am not a miracle. I am so much less. And Everything and Everyone I see is so very beautiful and so precious. Life has it's share of hard times. This body, this Cancer did not define me! I continue to turn it into a Blessing. Not an End. My body may end one day, but I won't. 
Since I am always searching for the Why (because I am human) I ran across this and I thought it would be worth sharing...
Isaiah 57:1-2 King James Version
"The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart: and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come.
He shall enter into peace: they shall rest in their beds, each one walking in his uprightness."

Today marks 5 years since my diagnosis. It seems like just yesterday but also a lifetime ago - at the same time. It brought me to the club I never wanted to join but introduced me to so many wonderful people. I am thankful for my medical team and all of the research and advancements that got me to this point. 
Looking forward to marking next year's cancerversary with all of you.