“It takes a village.”
At one point or another, you’ve probably heard this phrase. It’s usually said during times of hardship, and while commonplace, is something that I’ve truly come to believe in. The first time the importance of “having a village” was reinforced to me was when I gave birth to my daughter, Lily, on August 5, 2005. With the exception of an emergency C-section during delivery, the pregnancy was perfectly normal and free of complications. However, like other pregnancies, it wasn’t easy. Thankfully, I was surrounded by a “village” consisting of my parents, my husband and his family, and our many friends, all of whom helped me through the pregnancy. With everyone being so happy and excited in the delivery room that day, it would’ve been hard to imagine the hardships that were soon to come.
About a month after I gave birth to my daughter, I returned to work. All went well until about a month later, where I began to feel numerous symptoms that are usually attributed to being a new mother: I was breathless, tired, and didn’t have much energy to spare. Something about my symptoms, however, didn’t sit well with me. Fearing for my health, I called my doctor to see if I could have some tests performed just to see if everything was alright. After seeing my doctor, I found out that my suspicions were correct and my symptoms weren’t the result of motherhood.
Instead, I was diagnosed with mesothelioma cancer on November 5, 2005. Mesothelioma is a deadly variety of cancer that attacks the lining of the lungs and is caused by coming in contact with asbestos. It turns out that I was exposed to asbestos as a child, which resulted in a deadly type of cancer 30 years later.
If I didn’t seek treatment, my doctor said that I would only live for an additional 15 weeks. The idea of my husband and daughter having to cope with my death while alone in the world made me realized that I needed to take action. Choosing the most drastic option available, my husband and I flew to Boston, and my mother and Lily flew to my parents home(my childhood home) in South Dakota. On February 2, I had my left lung and its surrounding tissue removed, which is a procedure known as an extrapleural pneumenectomy. This also required an 18-day recovery period in the hospital followed by two more months of recovery before I could have chemotherapy and radiation performed.
Although I was winning my fight with cancer at that point, it wasn’t my only job: I was also – and still am – a full-time mother. Unfortunately, however, my extended stay in the hospital resulted in me missing some of the most important parts of Lily’s early childhood firsthand; those that I did experience were through black-and-white photos printed from the hospital’s community printer. While it was nothing compared to being by my daughter’s side, the photos were enough to inspire me to continue the fight.
My daughter, however, wasn’t my only driving force. My village was also extremely supportive and if it hadn’t been for them, this whole thing would have been so hard to overcome. During the ordeal, friends and family for many different parts of our lives came to help us – and Lily – in our time of need. My husband and I also made friends in Boston, who, despite not knowing us that long, gave us just as much love and support.
My battle with cancer has taught us that life is a very fragile thing, and that all parts of it – whether good or bad – should be embraced.
Heather Von St James is a 43-year-old wife and mother. Upon her diagnosis of mesothelioma, she vowed to be a source of hope for other patients who found themselves with the same diagnosis. Now, over 6 years later, her story has been helping people all over the globe. She continues her advocacy and awareness work by blogging, speaking and sharing her message of hope and healing with others. Check out her story at the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance Blog.
This has been a guest post featured on behalf of Heather and her story.
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