13 Years Ago Today…
On August 9, 2012, Rick and I sat in Dr. Tris’ office, waiting for the results of my tests. Linda, his nurse, walked in — and in that moment, we knew. Without a single word, our lives changed forever. Cancer had invaded my body and our world. Nothing would ever be the same for either of us.
The next seven weeks became a whirlwind of phone calls, doctor visits, more tests, and a literal mountain of paperwork. In the midst of it all, I found myself surrounded by people whose kindness and dedication carried me through. I am forever grateful for Dr. Tobin, Rick’s nephrologist, who took the time to look beyond his own patient and notice something was wrong with me. He ordered, and even paid for, my labs the very next day. I’m thankful for Dr. Tris, my OB/GYN since 1981, who did my initial assessment and fought so hard to get me into MD Anderson’s genetic research program. He told me that if I wasn’t accepted, he would perform the surgery himself at no cost and cover all hospital expenses.
I will never forget Dr. Michael Frumovitz, my oncologist at MD Anderson — I truly love that man. He was the hands and eyes of Jesus to me. I’m grateful for everyone at MD Anderson who interviewed me, tested me, walked with me through the process, and approved me for the program without charging me a dime. I thank every nurse who cared for me and gave me courage and strength to face cancer, and the behind-the-scenes heroes — from lab techs to cleaners — who played a part in my care. Most of all, I’m grateful for Rick, who despite his own pain, went with me to every appointment, held me through the fears and tears, listened to my worries, and said a thousand times, “Oh baby! It’s all going to work out — one way or another!” And I’m thankful for my children, who were either right there by my side, loving on Momma, or on the phone making me laugh through it all.
Thank you, God, for saving my life — and for changing me. Not everyone likes the change, and honestly, sometimes I don’t either, but I know it’s part of my story. My diagnosis was the most aggressive form of cancer — Grade 2, Stage 1. My oncologist told me it was rare to find this type before Stage 4 and that, had it not been caught when it was, I would have had 6 months at most to live. I still wonder why I survived when so many do not… and when my husband did not. The questions remain, as does the word “cancer.”
13 years since being diagnosed with cancer.
13 years of being a warrior.
There’s been a lot of life, and death, throughout these years.
Lots of life tests I didn’t even know there were lessons on!
Life has taken my breath away.
Death took my Sweetheart.
Treasure your times.
Make memories out of your moments.
13 years is a blink of the eye.
Margaret
TX
Submitted 08/09/2025
This story is intended to convey a personal experience and should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional medical advice.
