by Kirby Laney, posted 2 April 2018
On Sunday, March 25th, Alice McCallister and 5,999 others (including this author) climbed 1,311 steps to the 73rd floor of the Columbia Tower in Downtown Seattle. McCallister did the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Big Climb with friends and co-workers, plus her husband and one son, to support the work of LLS, to support those fighting blood cancers, and because she could.
Since July 2012, McCallister has done The Big Climb three times. This time, she stayed near her husband, David McCallister, as they ascended, keeping an eye on his stride. He recently had a plate put in his foot to correct complications that set in after a broken toe. McCallister’s vigilance didn’t stop her from talking, along the way, with other climbers, asking about who they climbed for or listening to them talk about their fight against cancer. “The time doesn’t matter to me,” McCallister acknowledged, although she still managed to beat her best time, so far.
The first time McCallister did The Big Climb, in March 2013, she climbed slowly, with her husband close at her heels. She was seven months out of chemotherapy – and only slowly recovering from a successful fight against late stage 4D Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
“One of the reasons that I do it,” McCallister said of her Big Climb efforts, “I’m here, and so many people aren’t.” She, and her husband, don’t take her survival for granted – or what so many others (too many others) have gone through and will go through.
When The Unthinkable Happens
On December 23, 2011, McCallister went into surgery. In hindsight, she’d been having symptoms, for a year, but individually they didn’t mean anything. She had extreme fatigue, swollen lymph nodes, anemia, and her doctor had ordered a test for mononucleosis – and recommended her to a diagnostic surgeon. He immediately ordered surgery, now.
McCallister didn’t see the urgency, especially as this was a few days before Christmas. The surgeon insisted, and the surgery revealed cancer, throughout her lymphatic system. It would take a few weeks for them to get the final diagnosis, and McCallister remembers, “When the surgeon said, ‘you have lymphoma, I said no, I don’t, I have mono.” She began chemotherapy in late January 2012.
Her diagnosis, as late stage Lymphoma, in all four quadrants, came with the irritating observation that it was the ‘good kind’ of cancer, because it was treatable. McCallister shudders, six years later, at the use of ‘good kind’ to describe any cancer. “Still, to this day, it’s a pet peeve,” she said.
The first round of chemotherapy nearly killed her before the cancer could. Given an accelerated regimen of chemo as an out-patient, she quickly landed in the hospital. “I had absolutely no white blood cells,” she explained, and, “no immunity.” She quickly contracted a number of infections throughout her body, which gave her a high temperature, seizures and eventually stopped her heart and her breathing. It took time to get her stabilized – and delayed the chemo for another month while she recovered.
When she started chemo again, she received a standard regimen, over eight rounds. At the half-way mark, the PET scans showed the chemo was working. “There were no visible signs at a few weeks,” she recalled, and she took her last chemo on July 2nd, 2012. The PET scan a few weeks later showed her clear of lymphoma.
Complications From The Cure
McCallister’s journey didn’t end there. Chemo had done its job, but she was left so sick that she couldn’t function. She couldn’t return to work, as a business analyst. She was tired, and “I’d had about every complication you can have,” she observed. An allergy to the chemotherapy, a liver infection, and a bile tube in her gallbladder were just some of her problems. She had chemo brain, thinking and memory problems that lasted for months, and neuropathy (nerve damage,) some of which has never gone away.
On the plus side, “I got over my needle phobia,” McCallister acknowledged. Before her diagnosis, McCallister feared needles and since she’d never been sick, it was never a problem. She’d had two sons, ages 19 and 21 at the time, but it wasn’t until diagnosis that she learned how strong she could be.
Recovery ultimately took longer than fighting the cancer. “It probably took a full year,” McCallister recalled, “I couldn’t walk up the stairs,” at home. Her body suffered from the battle, but so did her mind. “It happened so fast for me,” she said, of the time between testing to treatment to cure, “When it was finally done, I had a little breakdown.”
She joined a survivor’s group that she found through her hospital and the American Cancer Society. The group helped with adjusting to what happened, and it also led her to a new, better job. She was able to start work again in March 2013 – about the same time she did her first Big Climb. Yet, even while she began to work, she looks back and knows she still struggled with exhaustion and chemo brain. “My brain just wasn’t’ working,” she acknowledged, “It took a year to start to feel normal.”
Celebrate Every Victory
With each year, post diagnosis, McCallister feels stronger and better – and able to do more. The Big Climb helps, as it gives, “such a feeling of accomplishment,” she observed. The atmosphere in the Columbia Tower during The Big Climb is part of its appeal to McCallister. “So much positivity,” she observed, “despite the fact that everyone is so miserable.” Everyone is there to show support and solidarity with those fighting cancer, and the family and friends of those who didn’t survive.
McCallister really appreciates the fundraising done by the Big Climb participants. The money goes to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to help with its mission to cure, and conquer, blood cancers. Research into cures helped McCallister survive, but they also help fight all kinds of cancers and other disease – HIV, lupus, cystic fibrosis, etc.
However, LLS also provides Patient Support Services that came to the rescue for McCallister and her family. Her diagnosis came as a blow in so many ways, but it was also financially devastating. She had to pay deductibles and co-pays twice, because of the timing of her diagnosis and surgery – at the end of the year. “These are not something people think about,” McCallister observed, “I had good insurance,” but never being sick before actually increased her portion of the costs. “The [LLS] co-pay assistance covered a big chunk,” she said, including help with her COBRA payments when she found herself out of work. “It’s help for people who don’t qualify for anything else,” she observed.
In addition, McCallister is grateful for the information she got on her diagnosis. “LLS sent a whole packet on Hodgkin’s Lymphoma,” McCallister said, “and tons and tons of information.” For those facing the worst news, she recommended getting this help. “Learn as much as you can,” she suggested, and, “trust your doctors.”
The biggest learning that McCallister wanted to share from her experience, and pass on to anyone having to face leukemia or lymphoma is, “you are stronger than you think; focus on what comes next, and not on the big picture.”
Staying focused on the next step, it turns out, also helps with getting up 1,311 steps of the Columbia Tower. If you want to support the work of McCallister, and the others who did The Big Climb, consider giving to LLS (click here,) or specifically to McCallister’s effort (click here.)
“You never stop celebrating,” McCallister said. Even six years after diagnosis, McCallister celebrates her survival, and that of the others she meets, before, after and during The Big Climb. Through the work of LLS, there will be more survivors and fewer memorials to those who didn’t make it, so please consider contributing to cure and conquer blood cancer!
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©2018 Kirby S. Laney. This column is protected by intellectual property laws, including U.S. copyright laws. Reproduction, adaptation or distribution without permission is prohibited.