Ralph and Mariann Cheney - Monticello, New York USA

I would like to bring my message of hope to everyone. Above all, we are not alone, as I found out early on when my wife contacted PanCAN on Valentines Day 2005. Soon, a gentleman, whom I affectionately call my “sponsor”, and I were sharing experiences over the phone. They were experiences that could only be understood one survivor to another.
After nine months of phone conversations, I finally met this wonderful man at the Pancreatic Cancer Symposium - Los Angeles in November 2005. The Symposium brought my wife Mariann and I so much hope. We were struck with the message of creating awareness. The diligent work being done by the researchers was inspiring, however we came away knowing there is more to be done.
My journey started in the summer of 2004 as an annoying pain in my back. I thought I had pulled a muscle but the pain began radiating under my ribs. Excruciating, debilitating pancreatitis was my diagnosis. In the hospital, my treatment was starvation and a sonogram revealed a gallstone. My gallbladder was removed. The week of Thanksgiving, I had pancreatitis again. More starving and total weight loss of 30 pounds. A CT scan revealed a shadow on the tail of my pancreas. The doctor's suggestion was, “Wait six months, do another CT scan and let the pancreatitis clear up.”
My wife was not convinced that waiting was the right thing to do. I'd like to express my gratitude and love for my wife, my advocate, as I was too sick to manage my own health care. She found experts at a hospital at the Pancreas Center, Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center NYC, 2 hours from our home.
The first week of December 2004, I met a phenomenal gastroenterologist at the hospital, named Peter Stevens who performed an EUS. Although the biopsy was inconclusive, he suggested surgery as it “looked suspicious.” I later learned that his ability to visualize my tumor through his experience with EUS techniques would prove to be one of the most defining factors for me obtaining an operation. He is among the most talented in this procedure in the world.
A brilliant surgeon at the hospital, John Allendorf agreed. I had a distal pancreatectomy and splenectomy in January 2005. Lymph nodes and surgical margins were clear in surgery. The surgeon told my wife, “It appears to be acute pancreatitis; however, we must wait for the pathology report.” Relieved, we went home.
One week post-op my pathology report came back ductal adenocarcinoma invading the splenic vein. That very day I suffered a total of three strokes from a clot which shattered in the front of my brain. Fortunately, there were no lasting effects.
My oncologist, Abby Siegel, at the hospital was honest with us about pancreatic cancer research data, that there were different schools of thought regarding radiation, combination chemotherapy, etc. However, not once did she ever say, “There is no hope, Ralph.” Instead she said, “Let's go for the cure.”
We decided to be aggressive and do GTX which was developed at this hospital along with radiation. Our brother-in-law Jim, who had retired to South Carolina , was going to come help me with the chemo. He passed away suddenly and we buried him the day before I was to start taking the Xeloda pills. My faith was visibly shaken and I was not emotionally ready to start. So at my oncologist's suggestion, we opted for six months of Gemzar and radiation.
My faith and hope were restored as I realized that my brother-in-law Jim and Jan (my wife's sister, who died from lung cancer eight years ago) would want us to fight, to get connected, to have a new purpose in life and to give back. We felt we needed to go to the Symposium in LA in 2005 to see first-hand how this all works, how to get more involved, and to see others with this disease smiling and living life in spite of it. We found all of that and more. Today I volunteer as a member of the PALS Survivor and Caregiver Network and give back what was freely given to me by my dear friend.
Thanks to PanCAN, my wife, and my great team of doctors, I am a two year plus survivor. I have no evidence of disease and I am filled with hope and gratitude.



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