With our primary mission being to increase awareness of the signs, symptoms and methods of detection of ovarian cancer, Judy’s Mission is very proud of our signature program Survivors Teaching Students: Saving Women’s Lives ® (STS).  Created and administered by Ovarian Cancer Research Alliance (OCRA), Judy’s Mission partners by facilitating the one hour STS classroom course which  allows ovarian cancer survivors to share their experiences with medical and nursing students in the greater Houston area.   Survivors discuss their symptoms, doctors’ visits, diagnosis, misdiagnosis and eventual detection, treatment and current status.  Now in our fifth year of presenting this program, we are striving to reach every future health professional and send them into their medical practices with the knowledge and ability to recognize a possible ovarian cancer case.

I started facilitating STS classes seven months ago and I am amazed at how grateful and receptive the students are to learn that there is no screening for ovarian cancer and that the symptoms are very common and very frequently attributed to less serious, more easily treated ailments.  These students leave the class prepared to recognize a patient who should be tested for ovarian cancer.  They appreciate the survivors’ perspective and feel that the lesson of a “live case study” is a great enhancement to their curriculum.

In the first four years of the program, Judy’s Mission impacted approximately 300 students per year with 15-17 presentations to 9 campuses for a total of 1,200 students.  For the 2018- 2019 calendar year we are on target to double the number of students served each year. This year we have increased our presence to include 14 school campuses with 11 classes scheduled in spring and 11 classes schedule in the fall.  Several schools are scheduled for this summer as well.  This will mean more practicing doctors and nurses who are able to recognize an ovarian cancer patient at an earlier stage of the disease.

Several survivors, many students and I have said that if this class saves one life, it is worth it.  But, our hope, at Judy’s Mission, is that, as more future healthcare practitioners know the STS course material, the statistics for early detection and >5yr survival will significantly improve.

If you know of a medical, nursing, PA, nurse practitioner or other program in which graduates will be working with patients, please comment on this post or contact Judy’s Mission, so we can be sure all medical professionals are armed with this important, life-saving information.   And, if you are an ovarian cancer survivor or know a survivor who wants to make this significant difference by sharing her story, comment or contact us also.

“Nobody understands.”  I’ve heard that said by people in grief about the loss of a loved one, after a frightening experience, like abuse, military service, victim of a crime, and of course about being diagnosed with and dealing with cancer.   Research has found that patients with more social support tend to feel less anxious and depressed and report a better quality of life. People with cancer find it encouraging to have others who listen and help with the practical aspects of dealing with cancer.

Coincidentally, while I was preparing this blog post, a woman, who is currently battling ovarian cancer, contacted me about helping get her husband in touch with another husband who had recently lost his wife to ovarian cancer.  She said her husband feels that, “nobody understands” and he needs to talk to someone who has experienced what he is currently experiencing

This blog is about the value of support groups and the benefits of talking and telling all about your ovarian (or any) cancer experience.  These groups can supply much needed information/education or they can be therapeutic, fostering hope and/or acceptance or they can be a combination of both.

I spoke to a professional support group facilitator, a cancer survivor who was both facilitator and participant of a (ley-led) group and a participant who has been in support groups both as a newly diagnosed and currently as a recurrent cancer patient.  Here is what they had to say.

Alycia Hughes is the Senior Patient Affairs Specialist at MD Anderson (MDA).  As such, she facilitates a monthly support group, at MD Anderson.  Her group is primarily educational.  She brings in outside speakers, mostly medical professionals who work with cancer patients to present useful and necessary information to patients.

Alycia touts the merits of support groups specific to your specific disease.  She says treatments and psychosocial issues for ovarian cancer are different from those of other gynecologic cancers.  She says, when seeking a support group, some things to look for are a group that meets regularly, at a convenient time and setting.  She points out that there are support groups that include spouses and caregivers and you should determine if you want a group for patients only.

Barbara Garvin is 10+ years ovarian cancer survivor who, after hearing all the experts at the MDA support group, started her own group, in her home, to provide and more intimate, more therapeutic support group.  That group has since dissipated and she is back at a group at MDA.

Barbara says of her support group, “the caring and sharing was phenomenal!  Feeling safe to talk about aspects of the disease you couldn’t share with loved ones came easy.  We marveled just how effortless it was to talk about our bowel movements with each other.  We all were inspired with a new zest for life, (were) more hopeful and encouraged, felt less lonely, stressed and (less) depressed.  Your support group can literally become your lifeline and empower you.”

She says she continues to go to support group to inspire newly diagnosed women, for the camaraderie, to learn.  She goes to receive and give support.  “Mostly, I go to spread the Love.”

Janet Little is one of our Faces of Ovarian Cancer spotlight cancer survivors.  She was also one of the founders of the Teal Tales support group, that was a support group for ovarian cancer patients, survivors, spouses and caregivers.  She is currently a participant in the “Life in Between” group, for all cancer patients (breast, ovarian, pancreatic, etc), that meets at the wonderful Canopy center in the Woodlands.

The Life in Between group is a ley-led group, currently (coincidentally) comprised of only women.  Janet says that is what she likes about it.  “We laugh a lot and share stories and just everyday things.  We all get the seriousness of our disease but don’t take ourselves too seriously.  However, we are there for each other when one of us is going through tough times.  The women are welcoming.”

She says, when she was newly diagnosed, knowing the stories and experiences of those with recurrences gave her so much hope.  Cancer treatments can be so isolating and anxiety provoking.  Having someone who has walked that path before you and understands exactly what you are feeling and fearing is priceless.

If you are afflicted with ovarian cancer, you are not alone.  So, don’t try to go it alone.  To find a support group that is right for you, speak to your oncologist or a social worker at your hospital or treatment center or, talk to other patients receiving treatments around you or check out these websites:  https://www.mdanderson.org/patients-family/diagnosis-treatment/patient-support/support-groups.html or  https://www.cancer.org/treatment/support-programs-and-services.html.   Or post on this blog.

Joanne & her husband Ken

When I was first presented with the opportunity to write about my mother’s journey through Ovarian Cancer, I thought it would not pose near the challenge that it has indeed turned out to pose. Having taken many Creative Writing classes in college and writing countless short stories, poems and articles throughout the years, I thought this would be a breeze. Then it hit me. I would actually have to put into words something that changed that lives of my family and myself forever. On top of that, I would have to attempt to put into words a personality and a life that transcends words and stories. But here goes.

I was with her that first day we stepped into a cancer facility. The previous week she had been having heart palpitations and the doctor called her back in to discuss some results of tests or something they saw on an x-ray. I really didn’t think anything of it and, of course, agreed to accompany her. After some time sitting in that tiny room listening to the doctors and nurses discuss their weekend plans, the doctor finally emerged and gave vague explanations and more questions than answers. He then directed us to the Cancer Floor of the clinic. There must be some other reasonable explanation besides Cancer, right? The doctor said things and we listened in a fog of disbelief and surrealism then the sudden realization of the true potential gravity of the situation hit us, and we hugged each other and cried.

One of the many truly remarkable things about my mother was that this was one of only a few times throughout the journey that I witnessed her cry. After that moment, one of her most admirable qualities, her strength came out and she was determined to fight tooth and nail to beat Ovarian Cancer. Everyone that knew Jo had every reason to believe that she would succeed. She was the women that spent decades as a 4 foot 10 inch geriatric nurse lifting patients in and out of beds and wheelchairs. She was the women that would drag hoses around the yard day in and day out during the summer heat to tend to one of the most beautiful flower gardens imaginable. This was a woman full of strength and conviction, and she did things even when she was sick and exhausted from chemotherapy.

It wasn’t just her strength of body that convinced her family and friends that she could beat it, it was also her strength in spirit. Her humor and wit were unparalleled. After she would stop telling you that you didn’t have to come sit with her during chemotherapy, the room would be filled with true laughter. She had amazing stories to tell of life on the farm with her brothers and sister. She would recount for me stories from my brothers’ and my childhood as well as revel in the love she had with her grandchildren and their mother, her daughter-in-law. Laughter has always been at every Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthday, Mother’s Day and every other day spent with nieces, nephews, cousins, aunt, uncles, and friends.

It was that humor and strength that truly bounded family and friends together as we watched her end her battle with Ovarian Cancer. She kept fighting until the very end and we kept laughing through the tears until the very end as we recounted the wonderful stories that she will leave with each one of us. I think about my mother every day, as I know many people do, and am thankful for every minute of our journey together.

Amy Sudbeck about her mother Joanne Sudbeck

Whether you’re an Avengers fan or a How I Met Your Mother junkie, you know (and surely love) Cobie Smulders. What you might not have known is that when Cobie was just 25 (and in the middle of season three of HIMYM she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

“I had tumors on both ovaries,” she says, “and the cancer had spread into my lymph nodes and surrounding tissues.” It took multiple surgeries over the course of two years to remove the cancerous tissue.

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel like I’m cancer-free,” she says. “Now that I’m five years out, I’m trying to think of it as a positive thing and what can I learn from it. And if I can create more awareness, I’ll do it.”

These quotes (and more) were given to Women’s Health Magazine. They also ran this article called The Deadliest Below-The-Belt Disease You Need To Know About which shared very good information about OC.

We’re so glad Cobie’s OC story has a happy ending (she went on to have two children!) and that she’s with us on our mission to spread awareness!

On Oct. 28, 2013 I began six weeks of chemotherapy and 25 rounds of radiation. We were treating Uterine cancer stage 3c. This treatment lasted until December. I rested for two weeks and then had a hysterectomy. The surgery went well. I would have two months off to recuperate, more chemo, and be done. Life would continue as usual. Right?

                                                                    Deme Anderson posing with her teal hair

When I went to have the 42 staples removed, I was in great spirits. We, my husband and I, had made it through the first rounds of chemo, radiation, and surgery. I was getting stronger. The fight was real and I was winning!

Until….Dr. S. came back into the exam room with a folder. My husband and I were not ready for the news he was about to give.

“You also have Ovarian cancer” Dr. S. said. I am not sure what all we heard that day. You kind of go into a dazed fog. These are a few of the things I remember: “It is extremely rare to have two major cancers. It is an aggressive cell. Your chemo regime will change. You have two weeks to rest. But it is stage 1,” said Dr. S. Well, there is something to be grateful for – stage 1.

My husband and I left the hospital in total shock. This was a game changer. I remember the drive home. My tower-of-strength husband and I just looked at each other and really had no words. So, he took my to my favorite restaurant and I had a tostada.

I knew the time was coming when food would be out of the question because of the treatments.

We decided to do just what we had been doing. First, we had our faith, which is the foundation of our lives. It kept us grounded, centered and stable throughout the whole ordeal. Second, I had the best doctors taking the best care of me at the best hospital. Third, we relied on our wonderful support group of friends and family that loved and cared for us every step of the way.

So, the second rounds of chemo began February 3 – there’s that number again!

And ended in September 2014.

One year has passed since my last chemotherapy. I still deal every day with the aftermath of treatment. I did not ask why or really shed a tear throughout the 18 months of treatment. But now, sometimes the tears won’t stop. I cry for the pain I endured; I cry for the ones that did not make it. The tears are cleansing and let me remember and at the same time, help me to forget. I am a survivor.

I celebrate September. I celebrate one year, cancer free. I celebrate with teal streaks in my hair. Although my hair has been shocking at first sight, the color has been a banner of who I am and what I have endured.

Not many 54-year-old women choose to color their hair this bright of a color, although it is popular and common with celebrities. Obviously, I do not fit into that category. So, for September, I wear the color that represents ovarian cancer – teal. I wear it because I survived. I wear it because I have hair to color again. I wear it because everyone asks or makes a comment and I can testify that this terrible disease did not kill me. I beat it. I fought. I won!

I wear teal hair because it brings awareness.

Beautifully written by Deme Anderson

Now in it’s 3rd year, Talk It Ovar brings together ovarian cancer survivors, stakeholders, and community supporters for an evening of conversation in support of ovarian cancer awareness and research. This year’s theme is Talk It Ovar….an evening with local artists. Enjoy conversation with local artists plus great food and wine at Archway Gallery.

Proceeds from the event will support the Survivors Teaching Students program, in which ovarian cancer survivors teach medical students about signs, symptoms and risk factors in order to inform and educate.

Art Exhibition & Sale, Upscale Mexican Fare, Signature Cocktails, Silent Auction + Wine Pull

Thursday, September 24, 2015 * 6:30pm-9:30pm

Archway Gallery, 2305 Dunlavy

Food and drink generously donated by Cantina Laredo and Saint Arnold Brewing Company.

10% of purchased art will benefit Judy’s Mission

This is an event you don’t want to miss! Purchase tickets or make a donation here 

Hilary’s mother Diane wearing a sweater with the word “Joyful,” a word that sums up exactly who she is, always joyful! 

Just shy of my mother’s 80^th birthday, she was diagnosed with Peritoneal / Ovarian Cancer. Now we knew what was giving her such trouble but terrified that it was called cancer. We were led to an amazing oncologist who mapped out her road to recovery: 3 months chemo, tumor removal surgery and then 3 more months of chemo. My 3 siblings, many friends and I happily took on the task in caring for her and my father during this rocky time. We all were able to shoulder it together and for that I am eternally grateful.

Many prayers and support helped her to maintain the strength to get thru it but her amazingly positive attitude was the catalyst to her complete recovery. It was also helpful that her tumor was “nice” enough to respond to the chemo as well as be contained making it easy to remove. That was 3 years ago.

Six months ago, some pre-cancer symptoms appeared. A biopsy found an area in her stomach that carried these same cancer cells. She began a new round of chemo once a month. After two months, she was in need of surgery to repair several hernias and it was during that surgery that her oncologist was able to find remove this new tumor. Once again, she is cancer free!

We have learned that ovarian cancer is one that strikes and usually strikes again. We know that when it does reappear we are fortunate to live in a time where it can be treated successfully.

This whole “event” has brought our family closer together and showed us what really is most important in life ~ family, friends and faith! And, every day I thank the Lord for my amazing mother and her unconditional love and courage!

Hilary Purcell

In honor of Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month, Judy’s Mission gathered some of Houston’s top bloggers and social media influencers to come together in this photoshoot to raise awareness for ovarian cancer. Each participant will be posting on their respective blogs and social media platforms for the next two weeks to come!

Make sure to follow us on Facebook and Instagram, as we will be sharing their pieces throughout September.

 Top Row from left: Esther Freedman of cuteheads, Megan Silianoff of Greetings from Texas , Candace Thomas of Luxe…With Kids, Middle from left: Brandi Lisenbe from Mucho Mucho Bueno Bueno, Aimee Friend (Our executive director!), Julie Weinstein of From Prosecco to Plaid. Bottom from left: Alyssa Evans (intern to Megan Silianoff), Ailee Petrovic of Snapshots & My Thoughts, and Megan’s daughter Macy & Ailee’s daughter Isla (ADORABLE!) 

Thank you so much to all the ladies that came, and Rocio for the amazing photos!

Images by Rocio Carlon of Rocio Carlon Studios 

In 2009, due to a mass growing on one ovary, Shae Trainor underwent surgery to remove the mass and ovary during her pregnancy with her second child.  The mass was found to be benign (non-cancerous).  Two years later, while trying to become pregnant for a third child, another mass was found on Shae’s existing ovary.  In January 2012, Shae underwent another surgery to remove the mass, leaving her ovary intact.  After further analysis of the mass, doctors discovered that it was malignant (cancerous), and Shae would have to undergo a total hysterectomy (removal of the ovary, uterus, cervix, lymph nodes and omentum) to contain the spread of cancer.  The surgery was done on February 10, 2012, on the Trainor’s 6th wedding anniversary.  Thankfully, the surgery went well and the cancer was contained in the ovary.

During recovery, Shae discovered CrossFit and began attending classes at CrossFit Enigma.  She has once again fallen in love with exercising and pushing herself to her limits.  Shae has a competitive spirit and a positive attitude and is a perfect example of not letting life’s circumstances dictate her future, besides, who needs ovaries when you have heart.  Her husband, and fellow CrossFitter member says, “Because of CrossFit, I believe Shae has grown physically, mentally and emotionally.  She carries these attributes into her everyday life as a mother, wife and friend.”

Shae is now a certified level one Crossfit coach.  She has also been cancer free for three and a half years!

This Sunday, September 20th from 1:00-4:00 pm Shae will be hosting ” Who Needs Ovaries When You Have Heart”, a Crossfit Fundraiser benefiting the Shae Trainor Living Legacy Fund. Event tickets are $60, which is for a 2-person co-ed workout, or you can make a donation to the Shae Trainor Living Legacy Fund!

Be sure to check it out! 

That Time When I Had Cancer

Dysgerminoma is the name of the cancer that grew in my young body more than 25 years ago. It is a rare germ cell tumor that develops mostly in adolescent girls and young women. It is also a form of ovarian cancer.

When I got the diagnosis of “dysgerminoma of the ovary” I barely knew what my ovaries were. The months leading up to my diagnosis were pretty uneventful: It was the fall semester of my 9th grade year and I was still in the process of making friends and getting to know people at school since I had only moved to that town the year before. I was 14 and a sometimes starter on the basketball team – in good shape but not really a great athlete. I was a good student and enjoyed school.

In November we had a homecoming dance for which my mom had sewn me a new outfit, which might seem strange now but was totally normal in 1989 in rural Arkansas. I was happy to go to the dance because I had missed school much of the week prior due to a severe bladder infection. But I had fun at the dance and life went on.

Sometime around our Christmas break I felt like I was gaining a little weight in my belly so I started wearing my shirts untucked. My abdomen had been a little tender the month before because of the bladder infection, though it didn’t seem like it was as big then. Upon further examination I realized my “pot belly” was hard and that seemed weird. I brought this to my mom’s attention and from the look on her face I realized it was not just weird, but scary.

It was the first Friday of January 1990 when Mom took me to our local doctor to see what was going on. I was about to turn 15 and was VERY innocent — think Never Been Kissed innocent — and the doctor wanted to do a pelvic exam. If that wasn’t traumatic enough, it was inconclusive and she needed to get an ultrasound to know more. Because we lived in a super small town and it was a Friday, the ultrasound had to wait until Monday, and we had to go to the next town over because our small town doctor’s office did not have an ultrasound machine.

That Monday was my 15th birthday.

The ultrasound on my 15th birthday showed a large mass on my right ovary (which was big enough to make me look 4 months pregnant) but because the test was still relatively inconclusive, they wanted me to see a specialist in Little Rock. And they wanted us to go the next day. We drove the nearly two hours to see the specialist and upon his examination (yes, another pelvic) he decided I needed to have surgery to remove the mass. Immediately.

The next morning — two days after my 15th birthday — I was at UAMS in Little Rock having a major operation to remove a yet unclassified mass that may or may not be malignant. This was no neat little laser or scope surgery; the tumor was so large, they probably couldn’t have used that technology even if it had existed then. The tumor was the size of a football and was growing on my right ovary. They removed my right ovary, my right fallopian tube, my appendix, and several lymph nodes in the area. My uterus, left ovary, and left fallopian tube were unaffected (and are currently still right where God put them).

Had the tumor been benign that would have been the end of the story, but because it was malignant, the next thing on the “to-do” list was to consult with a chemo doctor at Arkansas Children’s Hospital. I was to have six rounds of chemo on an outpatient basis over the next six months.

I started my first round at the end of January 1990 and was given cis-platinum, bleomycin, and VP-16 over the course of five days. Doing this as an outpatient was not easy as we lived nearly two hours from the hospital. I remember that on one of the days we had car trouble en route to the hospital. I had the IV needle taped to my arm so they wouldn’t have to start a new one (I didn’t get a port because they were only doing six rounds of chemo) and we were just kind of stuck on the highway. This was before cell phones, so I honestly don’t remember who helped us and how we got to the hospital but we eventually got there.

During that first treatment, the chemo made me sick – as it infamously does – but the week after the treatment I got very sick. We returned to the hospital to discover I had a bowel obstruction caused by scar tissue from the surgery to remove the tumor. This meant I needed another operation.

The second surgery was at ACH and my recovery from the surgery coincided with two events: 1) my hair falling out from the chemo, and 2) my first concert: New Kids on the Block. For my hair, we decided to get it cut shorter to make it easier to deal with as it was coming out, and get a wig. For the concert, I had a potential problem: I didn’t know if my doctors would let me go. This was obviously a HUGE concern for me as a 15 year old girl in 1990. They DID allow me to go, but said I had to wear a mask (but I didn’t). They also connected me to an organization called Arkansas Children’s Dreams and got me a backstage pass. Maybe not so impressive now, but trust me, it was a big deal then. And though I was nearly bald, very skinny, and weak from surgery and chemo, I had the best time.

For my second round of chemo they decided to make some changes to my treatment since I had not tolerated the first round very well. First, they switched me from cis-platinum to carboplatin to reduce the severity of some of the side effects, which also reduced the administration from five days to three. Second, the chemo would be inpatient instead of outpatient. Though that helped, after round two I got sick again after I got home. We returned to the hospital to get the diagnosis of another bowel obstruction due to scar tissue. Which led to surgery number three.

The remaining chemo treatments were less dramatic, though still terrible. The third surgery was my last surgery that year, though I ended up having two more operations due to scar tissue — an operation in 2001 and one in 2006 (while pregnant).

In between the chemo treatments and surgeries, I was attending school and trying to be kind of normal. I ended up missing 45 days of school my ninth grade year, but my teachers were understanding and incredibly helpful. My school was small and in a wonderful little community with caring people who offered lots of support. And we were really lucky to be able to go to ACH for treatment. It is a fantastic hospital.

I’ve been cancer free since 1990, though I’ve had some health issues likely related to my treatment and surgeries. Twenty-five years later, I have yet to meet anyone else who has been treated for dysgerminoma.

I went on to graduate high school with honors, graduate college with honors, get married, and give birth to two healthy children. I celebrated my 40th birthday this year, as well as 25 years since my diagnosis, by running the Aramco Houston Half Marathon.

My ovarian cancer story is unusual, but the gift of my story is that people remember it and listen a little harder because it is unusual. My hope is that sharing my story will spark an awareness of the disease that helps someone else catch their symptoms early and gives them a greater chance of survival.

Read more about Candy’s life on her blog Slightly Overcaffeinated or find her on Twitter and Instagram at @CandyOvercaffed