I'm going to be a rock star!
That was my dream in January, 2000, when I quit my day job to pursue my one true passion of music full-time. My band was doing great and I could not have been happier.
One week later, I saw blood. Immediately, I called my gynecologist, who chalked it up to stress, told me not to worry, and said he would see me at my annual exam in March. Of course, he's the doctor, so I trusted him and happily continued to write songs and book my band. I felt so lucky to be able to pursue my dreams.
This bliss was not made to last.
Although all of my previous Pap tests had been normal, the results from my Pap in March showed some abnormal cell growth on my cervix. My doctor ordered a colposcopy, a more advanced exam that allowed him to take a biopsy and test my cells for problems. At that point, I barely knew where my cervix was, much less about cell mutations that could turn into cancer many years down the road if not treated!
My doctor assured me that because of my history of normal Paps, he was sure I did not have cancer. It was, he said, probably just "dysplasia", pre – cancerous cells that can be easily treated. We were to meet the following week to discuss the results of the colposcopy and biopsy, and I was scheduled to have a simple follow-up procedure to remove the bad cells.
He was wrong. On April 18, 2000, I was diagnosed with invasive cervical cancer with extensive lymphatic invasion. Everything happened so quickly after that. I had a radical hysterectomy ten days later. One month later, I had a laparoscopic procedure to move my ovaries out of the "frying zone." Then, I had five weeks of daily pelvic radiation, concurrent with four rounds of chemotherapy, followed by three rounds of internal radiation (brachytherapy). They gave me everything they had to save me and within four months I was finished with treatment.
Except I wasn't prepared for the deep, dark depression to follow.
Everyone knows that the treatment is hard and it takes an awful toll on the body. But for me, the depression was undoubtedly the worst. I felt like I lost everything. Music, the one passion that always centered me and guided my life, was gone. I couldn't play, sing or write; I didn't know who I was anymore.
But then I decided to attack the depression the same way I attached the cancer - with full force. I used individual therapy, group therapy, anti-depressants, acupuncture, yoga, journaling and more. Time and perseverance gradually began to work; I had already worked so hard to stay alive and I refused to quit. I wanted my life back. However, the music seemed to have left my body with my uterus and I felt like it would never return.
My life-altering moment occurred while watching the movie "Harold and Maude". The character of Maude is an older woman who embraces all that life has to offer – every sensation, touch, and smell. She lives in the moment while teaching a young boy, Harold, to do the same. Maude's spirit and the Cat Stevens soundtrack drew me back to the piano. I felt the song, "Trouble," had been written for me, and described what the last year and a half of my life had been. That moment, that song, changed my life. I knew I needed to help others through my music and my voice. That's what motivated me to start using my story to educate other women about cervical cancer and how to prevent it.
In 2003, I took my message on the road by creating The Yellow Umbrella Tour (named after the cheery yellow umbrella Maude carried in the movie) and The Yellow Umbrella Organization (www.theYellowUmbrella.org). Since then, I have performed over 100 tour dates with a variety of national and international singers across the country – telling my story through my music, educating women and the men who care for them about cervical cancer, HPV and the HPV test.