By Teresa Seely
Splash Guest Column

In April 2000, I was living in a small town in Idaho. I was 32 years old, married with two children, ages 6 and 5, when I began having severe headaches. This went on for about two weeks. It felt like a sinus infection headache, but the pain was not controlled by over-the-counter pain meds. I was given a course of antibiotics to treat a possible sinus infection, but the pain did not subside. I was also experiencing chronic fatigue and bouts of forgetfulness, which I attributed to my ultra-busy schedule.

Being a full-time housewife/mother/personal accountant for my husband's business and volunteering for three charitable organizations could surely account for the fatigue and forgetfulness, but the headache was another matter. I decided, having absolutely no medical training, that I had a sinus blockage. I was scheduled for an MRI on April 7, 2000, which I was sure would show just that.

I was shocked and confused when I saw the MRI scan. It was not a sinus blockage. It was a tangerine-sized tumor in the left frontal lobe of my brain. My surgeon was able to get 95 percent of the tumor out, which definitely improved my chances of responding to treatment. After a full course of radiation, I began chemotherapy.

After the first round of chemo, I had another MRI which revealed that my tumor had grown significantly, and I had three new tumors as well. My doctor had shown me a survival chart for the various stages of astrocytoma (a type of brain cancer). While the first three stages showed significant survival improvement as time went on, the fourth stage, which is what I had, showed no signs of improved outcome. Commonly called glioblastoma multiforme - or GBM for short - the survival rate for that type of cancer was 2 percent, and survival time did nothing to improve that.

However, in 2001, I was cancer free. It was an absolute miracle that I survived this cancer, and I owe full credit to God, who used a combination of my doctor's incredible host of knowledge and my stubborn unwillingness to let this disease rob me of my perceived right to be a wife to my husband and to raise my children.

I wish that was the end of my story. That would be a pretty happy ending. Sadly, there are a couple more chapters. You see, during my second round of chemotherapy to treat the brain cancer, my doctor used a far more aggressive form of chemo than the previous one. He warned me the side effects from this type of chemotherapy could be worse than the disease itself and could even cause other cancers.

I had gone from 2001 to 2008 cancer free, or so I thought, but in February 2008, after going five months with blood level issues, my doctor decided to do a bone marrow biopsy, which revealed I had leukemia (AML).

I once again had to sit my children down and tell them that, "Mommy has cancer." This time, they were in eighth and ninth grade and had a much clearer picture of what that meant. This time, it meant four months in the hospital with very brief visits home between rounds of chemo, followed by a little over four months spent in Seattle preparing for and receiving my bone marrow transplantation at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance, more commonly known as the "Hutch." After checking my siblings and other relatives with no luck, they found a 10-out-of-10 match for me - an unrelated donor who resides in Germany.

The transplantation was successful, and by 2010 I felt like I was once again at the top of my game. I competed in several charity races, including the Susan G Komen Race for the Cure, Joggin' for the Noggin' and a half marathon for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Foundation. That year, I also had my best time ever in Bloomsday and hiked to the top of St. Peter's Basilica in Italy. I felt like I was finally getting my strength and momentum back.

That is, until the fall of 2010, when I began to experience breathing problems and a host of other strange symptoms. My November 2010 checkup at the "Hutch" in Seattle revealed I had chronic Graft Versus Host Disease, or GVHD. This disease acts like an autoimmune disorder in that the immune system is attacking the body. It can be fatal, but so far that has not been the case for me. At one point I was on oxygen, and I am still taking 13 different medications to treat the lungs and other maladies related to GVHD. Thankfully, I am recovering and have high hopes for a better tomorrow.

These are hopes that not everyone has, so my reason for participating in this event is that I share the same mission as the American Cancer Society, which is a cure for all cancers so that we can all "celebrate more birthdays."

Teresa Seely lives in Liberty Lake and will captain a team called "Cancer Survivors and Caregivers" at Friday's Liberty Lake Relay For Life.