The Diagnosis: 1988

Unbelievably happy. Full of love. Endless learning.

All of the preceeding phrases accurately describe my childhood. A childhood that whiled away winters drinking hot cocoa, summers in backyard pools, and autumns at pumpkin patches. The very same childhood that was stopped dead in its tracks in May of 1988.

Spending my glory days as a 6th grader in Valley View Elementary School, the highest grade housed in that building at the time, was pure bliss. I happily ignored my little sister as she frolicked with her kindergarten classmates. After all, I was the cat's meow with my newly lightened Sun-In shade of fried blonde. Of course, I naturally jumped twice as much as everyone when the American Heart Association's Jump-Rope-A-Thon came to our school. Yes, I was a Type A even as an eleven year old. And, naturally, my left leg hurt a little because I jumped so much. That pesky left leg did hurt, so much in fact, that I found myself on the x-ray table of Mid Valley Hospital in Peckville, PA.

Remember, it is the end of my perfect year of 6th grade, just in time for summer to start.....when I heard the doctor say, "It's a stress fracture. That's unusual for someone her age. She must have overdone it." A what? "We'll have to cast her." The horror. Or not. Mom took me to buy cute skirts to make it easier to get dressed, I had friends helping me around school, and I got lots of attention - my favorite! Since it was only a stress fracture, the cast was short lived. Just two short weeks later I was walking on two feet again, instead of one foot and two attention grabbing sticks, or crutches! My days quickly returned to status quo. I was dropped off at school, and walked to Mamie's (my maternal grandmother) house afterward. She had the pool, and that's where I wanted to be! I still limped a little, but I still managed to dance the night away at the 6th grade end of year dance.

So, as I limped the month of June away, my mom offered me a deal. An ultimatum, really. If I didn't stop limping in one week, we had to return to the doctor's. Well, I couldn't stop favoring that darn left leg. This time, I skipped the x-ray and got a one-way ticket to Nuclear Medicine for a bone scan. I had absolutely no idea what a bone scan was supposed to be like, but I do know that the Nuclear Medicine had an unusually eerie and somber tone that fateful July day. And, the usually cheery faces of the technicians matched it. Something was very wrong. I asked questions the whole time, but got no answers. I went back to Mamie's and waited.

By now, even the Fourth of July had passed, and even a dip in the pool couldn't mask the pain. As I lay in my pink-clad bed on a hot summer night, I was rubbing the calf of my left leg where it hurt. I noticed that it felt different than the right leg. My dad dismissed my fears as he tucked me in, instead lovingly suggesting some of my favorite things to dream about. The man who was my hero learned all too soon that many nights of sleeplessness were likely approaching for both of us. At 5PM on bone scan day, July20, 1988, my parents were called back to the hospital. I had to stay at Mamie's with my sister. Upon return, they seemed okay. There was some whispering, but I was sure it was just about buying me a present to compensate for that awful bone scan.

Sure enough, it was more than a present. It was a vacation! My parents announced that in two days we were road trippin' to Hershey. And, my sister was not coming! I had dreams of an entire back seat just for me. As visions of chocolate bars danced in my head, one word pulled me back to reality - hospital! I'm sorry, what did you say? They did, indeed, say hospital. We were headed to Hershey Medical Center, more specifically, Dr. Robert B. Greer's Orthopedic Clinic. Almost immediately, Mamie started campaigning for cards to be sent to me. Perched on the front porch, she told anyone or thing that was able to lick a stamp to do just that, and address letters to me, at Hershey Medical Center! Hellloooo......I'm only going for one day. No nights. One little day. The night before, I packed an overnight bag, just in case. It contained no clothes or toiletries, just games to occupy me until this little adventure was over.

As we drove into Hershey, early on the morning of Friday, July 22, 1988, I squealed with delight as I caught a glimpse of the rides at Hershey Park from my spacious back-seat accommodations. Secretly thinking that I'd talk my parent into a quick stop on the way home, I quickly complied with their request, donned my sandals, and readied myself to enter the hospital. That hospital was bigger than any I'd ever seen. On the sidewalks, patients - both kids and adults - sat in wheelchairs as they enjoyed some warm July air. Luckily, Dr. Greer's office was not far from the entrance. I was thankful for that, because I couldn’t walk long distances without resting my leg. I feel like we waited for hours to see the doctor.

We took the results of the bone scan with us. Before I saw Dr. Greer, a younger doctor came in to examine me. I read his name tag - Resident. Did he live in the hospital? He didn't. Although, he said it felt like he did. He was, in fact a doctor in training. Armed with a medical degree, he now had to practice with a more experienced doctor and learn from patients like me. Cool. I knew I could teach him a thing or two!

He asked me bunches of questions, and then my parents went out to speak with Dr. Greer. He told them the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God. Guess what? They wanted to sugarcoat everything and tell me maybe half of the truth. Dr. Greer put the breaks on that. As long as a child is able to understand, usually older than 5 or 6, he believes that they deserve to know the truth. Finally, the truth. The Three Musketeers - Dr. Greer, my mom and dad - came into rescue me from the Resident's poor joke delivery.

Dr. Greer explained that I had a "nasty rascal" growing in my leg, and he knew how to help me get better. Great! He went on to explain that the "nasty rascal" was actually a lump, or tumor, in my leg. Fabulous! I was right! There is something in there, and I have a reason to limp! Great news. I called Mamie, Grandma, and Grandpa immediately. They didn't seem so excited. We went to the ginormous cafeteria for lunch and returned to the orthopedic clinic.

The doctors went on to explain that I would need more tests before we made a plan to make me as good as new. We had 2 choices: 1. Complete several tests today, go home for the weekend and return on Monday for more tests. We have a winner! A no-brainer. 2. Complete several tests today, stay IN the hospital, a few more simple tests over the weekend, and be ready to go again bright and early Monday morning. Seriously? I don't think so. The Three Musketeers thought differently, so did the not-so-funny Resident. We stayed. Lucky I packed those games....


Check back in the Post Office at www.cancertacular.org again soon for the next installment of my crazy cancer story, "The Admission."


Fabulously Yours,

Tina