Blog Chapter 69: Women Belong
Amazing photo thanks to Shari Fleming Photography.
It’s been a while since I’ve written a blog post. In the past few weeks, I’ve virtually met and connected with many new friends in the brain cancer community. Because of this, I want to take a quick minute to re-introduce myself so that our new friends don’t have to read 68 chapters to figure out who the hell I am :)
I’ll start with the basics. I’m Courtney, a 29 (almost 30…it’s coming) year-old physician living in St. Paul, Minnesota. I work as a chief resident of internal medicine and will enter the post-residency workforce as a primary care physician this upcoming summer. In January 2020, I was studying medicine in Thailand when I developed strange symptoms. Long story short, I diagnosed myself with a brain tumor in Thailand and have since been on a roller coaster life adventure. I’ll highlight the key points:
January 2020: I have strange symptoms which turn out to be focal seizures. An MRI in Thailand shows a huge ass brain tumor (go back to chapter 1 for the full story).
February 2020: I am rushed home on a medical flight out of Thailand for my first brain surgery in Minnesota, a biopsy which diagnosed me with AA2, a low-grade astrocytoma (see https://www.abta.org/tumor_types/astrocytoma/ for very detailed explanations on types of brain tumors, which are considered rare and understudied tumors)
March 2020: After three weeks of recovery from craniotomy #1, I went back to work full-time. Then, the pandemic came to America and my in-person work transitioned to telemedicine work just in time for my second brain surgery. Craniotomy #2 was an attempt at GTR (gross total resection). No visitors were allowed, so I experienced a terrifying overnight hospitalization on my own. The amazing surgeons at the U of MN removed over 95% of my tumor. Unfortunately, the pathology was upgraded to AA3, a high-grade, malignant anaplastic astrocytoma.
April 2020: After two weeks of recovery, I went back to work full-time as a resident physician, performing telemedicine for patients with COVID symptoms. I had a repeat MRI that showed significant, ugly growth of my tumor post-surgery, making my team concerned for progression to a secondary GBM (glioblastoma, the “terminator” of cancers). This scary news compelled me to start writing a book to get my story out in the time I had left.
May 2020: I started aggressive chemotherapy and radiation therapy, undergoing 6-weeks of brain radiation and chemotherapy with an agent called Temazolamide, an oral pill I took at home. Keep in mind, this was mid-pandemic, so I had a very strange 6-weeks consisting of driving myself to and from radiation daily and slowly poisoning myself with a chemotherapy pill every night.
June 2020: I lost my hair, then I graduated from internal medicine residency on a Zoom graduation, and started work as chief resident. Oh ya, I also got divorced. It’s been a year…
July 2020: My treatment worked! No new cancer was seen on my follow-up scan. I continued on monthly maintenance chemotherapy with Temazolamide, standard of care for 6-12 months for AA3 and GBM patients.
August 2020: My follow-up MRI showed a small new spot…. could be new growth, yikes. Continued on chemotherapy. Finished writing my book.
September 2020: Another follow-up MRI showed the spot is smaller. No new cancer. Treatment is working!
Phew. Here we are.
Ok, that was a lot, but easier than reading 68 chapters I imagine. So what now?
Now, I continue living my life with the lessons I have learned over the past nine months. I live each day as if it is my last. I try to find joy in every moment. I practice mindfulness, meditation, and continuously read and study Buddhist philosophy as it brings me comfort. My cancer has not behaved “normally,” although brain cancer is so rare there really isn’t a “normal” to go off of. Regardless, I have no idea what my prognosis is or what my next scan will show. I could live a day, a month, a year, twenty years…I have no fucking clue. But guess what, I’ve learned that no one knows this.
So, instead of worrying about this, I live my life fully. I continue to work full-time in medicine because I love it. I recently interviewed for my dream clinic job. I also continue to write, because I love it too. My blog isn’t updated quite as frequently as it once was because I’ve been frantically working with my publisher on my book, Difficult Gifts, to get it ready for publication in early 2021. I’ve never been prouder of anything I’ve ever accomplished. I hope you all like it. See the “Book” section of this website for details, and eventually, a pre-order link.
In the meantime, I continue chemotherapy. I take a poisonous pill 5 days out of every month and try to stay afloat with other things in my life during that time. I recently finished cycle 5. Probably 2-3 more cycles to go.
I live my life without expectation of how long I have left on earth. I hope it’s a long time, but if not, I figure I better work fast and make a meaningful impression while I still can. If you’re new to my blog and my writing, you’ll soon learn that I am passionate about a few things; honestly, equality, women’s rights, cancer advocacy, mindfulness, positivity, and compassion.
I usually weave in a quote or two from my favorite Buddhist teachers, but today, I need to incorporate one from another hero, RBG.
I’m drinking out of coffee mug right now that says, “Women belong in all places where decisions are being made.” ~Ruth Bader Ginsburg
Hell yes, they do. Thank you, RBG, and countless others for giving me the ability to be a successful, independent, single woman who has been able to attend the academic institution of my choosing, work my dream career, express my opinions without fear, vote, buy my own house with money from my own bank account and my own mortgage, and so much more. I hope I live long enough to see this equality and freedom for every single person in our society. We still have work to do.
Cancer warriors are strong. Women are strong. You, me, we are strong. Keep going.
Fondly,
Courtney
©CB2020
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