In February, I had my 6th anniversary of being cancer free. I was diagnosed when I was 41 years old with pancreatic cancer. I didn't ask nor did I want to know what stage I was, I didn't feel it was relevant or important. The key was to beat it and win, which I did.

I had a Whipple procedure at a University Cancer Center with a surgeon who is the "go to" guy in these parts. I followed up with 6 months of chemotherapy with an oncologist at the same location. What a great team. I feel it's important to find the best experience to get the best results.

Let me give some straight forward advice, stay away from survival rates, they are not important or relevant to anyone's survival. They place a negative in your head that is hard to overcome. Do some homework and check with any resources available to find the best doctor, the most experienced you can get. In my opinion, go with tried and true treatments to get the best results, in other words, go with the treatments that have shown results.

A friend of mine was recently diagnosed with cancer of the bile duct. It was amazing how many doctors wanted to do the surgery, but lacked the experience. Statements like “I've done a couple” or “I believe I can do it” by surgeons may not be in your best interest.

I was discovered to have type 2 diabetes a couple of years afterward.

The hardest part is the mental game it plays on your head. You feel like you've been hit by a car and you're trying to find a way to get back on your feet. The cancer sneaks up on you and it's the last thing you suspect. Work through it the best you can and be sensitive to those around you. Everyone wants to help you and don't know how. Be as strong as you can for those around you. There's nothing wrong with an occasional pity party, but you need to not drag yourself and others down around you. It's just as hard on your loved ones as it is on you. Be as positive as possible, it will help you heal. You may want to try some positive affirmation tapes to help your body heal.

Jim S., Glendale, CA 4/1/08

STATISTICS CAN BE WRONG

Don't be unwilling to question the Doctor

On a warm April morning in 1992, my wife Carolyn and I were anxiously waiting at a hospital in Santa Rosa, California. We were waiting to see the Chief of Surgery.

The story begins in February of that year. I noticed a feeling of tenderness on the right side of my lower abdomen. There wasn't any real pain, just tenderness, and after all, I was over 61 years old. I convinced myself that I should expect some aches and pains and I let it go. But, when I went for a check-up with my primary care physician a few weeks later, I mentioned the tenderness to him. He examined me and told me that he thought that I had a hernia, and arranged an appointment for me to see one of the staff surgeons.

When I was 18 years old I was working with a bricklayer building a chimney on the roof of a house, and as kids sometimes do, I got careless and stepped off the roof. I was lucky enough to land on my feet, but I was not so lucky to have the landing result in a hernia on my left side. In any case, I was aware of what a hernia felt like and I didn't believe that I had one. But, I thought I might as well go through the process and see what would happen.

The appointment with the surgeon was the beginning of a remarkable series of events that led up to what, as Paul Harvey says on the radio, is “The Rest of the Story”.

After a short, cursory examination, the surgeon confirmed my suspicions that I indeed did not have a hernia. He made a few comments about my primary care doctor, and then told me that the symptoms I described could be connected to urological problems and suggested that I see an Urologist.

So, off I went to make the appointment with the Urologist. It was several weeks later that under the care of the Urologist, I was given all the standard urological exams and tests. Nothing came up abnormal in the tests. And after discussing the test results, the doctor said to me, “There are some things that do not show up on the tests you have had. Just to make sure I want you to have an ultrasound exam of the abdominal area.” After the ultrasound exam, when I was getting dressed, the doctor came into the room and said, “There's something there, but we can't tell what it is. We want you to have a CT Scan.”

Which brings us back to that Monday morning in April of 1992, sitting in the reception area at a hospital, in Santa Rosa, California waiting to see the Chief of Surgery to discuss the results of the CT Scan. I asked Carolyn to go with me because the Urologist told me that the scan had revealed “a mass on my pancreas”.

Carolyn and I were married on December 7, 1991. We both had been married before and had each raised three children from our first marriages. All of the children were grown adults and were not living at home when our marriages had ended in divorce. Carolyn had been divorced several years before, and I had been divorced in 1990. Carolyn and I had then, and still have, that rare bond of faith and trust in each other that sometimes develops and grows between two people who love one another and are fortunate to have met. We worked together at the same company, and we had become friends. We both fervently denied any interest in being married again, but our friendship grew into a deep respect and love for each other that neither of us had known before. I needed her with me for this interview.

After our marriage, we settled into the daily routine of work and play, and we were extremely happy with our lives. We were looking for a house to buy so we could move from our rented house and get a little closer to work. I was feeling good and didn't think that I had any health problems, until I heard the results of the CT Scan.

We were ushered into an examining room shortly after the appointed time. The Chief of Surgery came into the office shortly after we sat down. He introduced himself and put some x-ray films onto the illuminated viewer on the wall so we could see them. His manner was quite brusque as he showed us the x-rays, which showed a mass about the size of a good sized lemon on the tail of my pancreas. He explained that it was not possible to say for sure that it was malignant, but he indicated by all his comments that in all probability it was. He went on to tell us that pancreatic cancer is a particularly treacherous type of cancer. He said, “The survival rate of patients who have pancreatic cancer is about two percent. I have known a number of doctors who when diagnosed with pancreatic cancer have elected to not have surgery, but to go out and do the things they want to do and enjoy what time they had left.” What he meant, of course, was that with the small chance of survival, it would be better to not go through the trauma of surgery and treatments, but to go and enjoy the time left in my life. He left little doubt in our minds about how he felt. I looked at Carolyn and she was in shock at the statements the doctor had made. I guess I was not as surprised, because I had heard a number of times about people who had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and didn't live long after they found out about the disease. I will always regret that I had not told Carolyn about my doubts before meeting with the doctor. I think if I had, she would not have had to endure the shock of his saying what he did. But, when he made that statement, I looked across the desk at him, and I said, “That's not my choice”.

The surgeon looked back at me, sat back in his chair, and said, “Okay. If that is what you want, I will do what I can to move you ahead in the surgery schedule, and I'll start to make the arrangements today. I want you to know what we're facing. This will be an extensive abdominal surgery. I will have to go in and look at everything and if I have to I'll take out your spleen, I'll take one of your kidneys, you only need one, I may take part of your stomach, and part or all of your pancreas. But, if I get in there and find out your liver is involved, I'll sew you right up and do no more. I want you to go and see if you can give some blood to be used in surgery. See you next week.”

As it turned out, I was too anemic to give my own blood, and after several weeks of trying to build up my own blood we gave up and agreed to have donor blood. True to his word the surgeon did move me up on the surgery schedule, and he was ready to take me into the operating room on June first.

During this time, Carolyn and I had been looking at houses in and around Santa Rosa. Looking at houses helped to keep our minds off all the other things going on with arrangements and tests leading up to the coming surgery. As luck would have it, we found a house we really liked and it was close to work and met the other criteria for a house we wanted. So, we bought it. Now the job was to go through escrow and have the paperwork closed in time to get everything done before I would have to go in the hospital. We did it, just. The weekend before June first we moved into the new-to-us house. We were lucky to have friends and family help with the move and we had about 15 or 20 people moving things into the house and arranging furniture, putting up pictures and trying very hard to do everything for us. Carolyn and I had prepared for a cook-out for the whole group and on Sunday afternoon we barbecued sausages and burgers and served salads and other good things for everybody. After we said goodnight to our last guests about 8 o'clock Sunday night, we sat and relaxed for a few minutes. Strangely we didn't talk much about the next day. We talked about our friends and family, their kindness in helping with our move, and some of the things that occurred during the day that put smiles to our faces. We knew that all of our friends and family had us in their thoughts and prayers that night. After a while, we decided to get some rest for the next day.

The next day, Monday morning at 6 o'clock, we presented ourselves to the admissions desk at my hospital in Santa Rosa. After the paperwork and hospital prep work, they rolled me into the operating room about 8 o'clock the morning of June first. The operation lasted over three hours. Carolyn, with her children and one of our very good friends, had an arduous wait in the waiting room, but she told me, “It would have been tougher if the surgeon had come out in a short time, because that would have been a sure signal that there was too much involved, and he had ‘sewed you right up'.” After the surgery, I had the easy part. I was kept pretty well out of it for two and a half days in intensive care. I remember watching a digital gauge of my blood pressure and thinking, “Boy, that's as low as I ever saw it”. And once when there were a lot of people milling around my bed, one of the nurses tripped over the mass of tubes that were stuck in me at various places. When things were stabilized they moved me to my room and even though I was still hooked up to many tubes, I was able to get up and walk around the halls pushing my tree of IV bottles. Every day, for the next few days, the surgeon would come into my room and ask me, “How are you, have you had any gas yet?” At that point it was really good to have a joke to laugh about so the whole family took advantage of it, and everybody would ask me the same question.

Thanks to a surgeon, wise enough to determine that a diagnosis of a hernia was wrong, and who cared enough about a patient that he suggested I should see a urologist for the symptoms I described; to a urologist who was steadfast in his efforts to diagnose my illness; to an incredibly skillful surgeon who had a lousy bedside manner but great hands and great knowledge, who took out the mass and a third of my pancreas, explored all the other organs and found no evidence of their involvement, and then “sewed me up”; and to the awesome support of my wife, Carolyn, and family and friends, I came out of the operating room with a new chance on life.

The mass was malignant. The hospital did all the lab tests and presented the tests and surgical report to the cancer board, a group of doctors who examine unusual cancer cases. All this was happening during the ten days I was in the hospital and several weeks I was recovering at home. The board was not able to come to an agreement on what type of cancer I had. So, the hospital decided that I should have my case reviewed by a University hospital. The local hospital made the appointment for us to see a panel of two doctors at the University the next week. Carolyn and I loaded up the files and headed to the University. The doctors there gave me a brief exam, and we talked with them for several hours. They took the files and told us to come back in a few hours. We had leisurely lunch out in the avenues near Golden Gate Park, and found ourselves back in the waiting room at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Meeting with the doctors, in a conference room there, they confirmed that the type of cancer I had was pancreatic cancer. They told us there were three possible treatment recommendations they would make:

1. Do nothing and assume that the surgery cured the cancer.

2. Have radiation treatments only.

3. Have chemotherapy and radiation.

My hospital told me that the choice was mine. So, I told them that my choice was to do everything available to make sure that the cancer was gone and would stay gone.

At the end of July we were ready the start treatment. Five days a week for twelve weeks I had radiation treatments, along with chemotherapy twice a week that was designed to enhance the radiation. During that time my oncologist ran every test he had available to him. Included were two bone scans, CT Scans and a blood test every few weeks along with constant encouragement for the treatments. Completing the treatments in October, I went on to see my oncologist for the next three years, until we moved out of the state. At our new home I was fortunate to have equally good follow-up examinations from our new HMO and after 13 years I no longer see an oncologist, but my primary care doctor follows up with a blood test every year.

Today, I have no recurrence of cancer and I am a happy, healthy 76 year old man. Carolyn and I have the pleasure of enjoying our children, grandchildren and great grandson. How lucky can one man get?

I believe, for the most part, you make your own luck. But with the love and devotion of my wife Carolyn, the good thoughts and prayers of our family and many good friends, the skill and concern of the medical staff at my hospital, and luck by any description, my story has a happy ending!

I know that many people have not been as fortunate as I have been, but maybe someone reading my story will question the suggestion that an illness is not curable. Maybe they will believe it is worthwhile to pursue every course of action available to them to capture the opportunity to be cured. And that good medical care, a loving family and friends, and your own kind of luck can save your life.

I hope so!

Glen G. 3/20/08

I'm writing this to celebrate my mother's Two-Year Anniversary of her diagnosis; this is for you mom:

It was exactly two years ago today that we received the news that my mother's pancreatitis was actually pancreatic cancer. She'd been in and out of the hospital from January 31, 2006 - March 7, 2006 with what we thought was pancreatitis or gall stones, but when the phone call came with the diagnosis it devastated our entire family. At only 55 years old we all thought mom was too young for this, but we now know that pancreatic cancer can strike anyone.

In an effort to help my mom who was too tired, sick and weak to determine her own course of action, I developed a strategy plan and quickly became President of Team Operation Kick Cancer's A**. We learned that mom's tumor was still small enough to potentially make her a candidate for the Whipple and we got on a plane to travel to see if a cancer center would operate on her. On March 23, 2006 my mother underwent the Whipple procedure and our family held vigil for 12 hours in the waiting room, constantly calling home with updates for the hundreds (literally) of people who were scattered in churches, schools and at home praying. At 8:30pm that evening we got the news we yearned to hear: clean margins, tumor gone, mom did well.

Two months later, and cancer-free, mom started a regimen of 5-FU and Gemzar, 6 weeks of daily radiation, and a follow-up of 5-FU and Gemzar. For 11 months the cancer was in check but in January 2007 her CA 19-9 had risen quickly and we all knew what was coming next. The cancer had returned to her liver and surrounding lymph nodes. Team Operation Kick Cancer's A** was started again. Back to the cancer center we went, but when we learned that surgery wasn't an option this time, mom decided to become part of a clinical trial at our local hospital and receives chemo in bi-weekly doses which she wears for 48 hours.

It was 12 months and 3 weeks ago that the treatment was started. My mother feels well, looks good and maintains an ACTIVE (sometimes too active we think) lifestyle. She is a survivor in every essence of the word.

Yesterday she had another CT scan and we got some more encouraging news - the largest tumor in her liver appears to have potentially shrunk and the center appears dead. The cancer is still there, but she can, does and will continue to live with it until it goes away - we all believe this and pray daily.

I wanted to share my mom's story with all of you because she is the definition of hope, faith and courage and we do believe in miracles and think we've had a few cross our path already. She is a testament to those that believe you cannot live with this disease - you can, you will.

I'm not the one living with cancer, but I live it every day with my mother and I can tell you that it's her attitude, her faith and her determination that keeps her fighting this battle with vitality and strength. Even when the cancer returned, which we all know is common with pancreatic cancer, mom has not given up - she's my hero and she makes me want to be a better person.

I'm getting married this summer and asked my mom over Christmas if she would like to walk me down the aisle with my father. To my surprise, she said no (she and dad are happily married too). Then she told me that she wants to celebrate seeing me walk down that aisle and she's waited her entire life for that moment. And Mom, when you read this, I want you to know that when Dad and I walk down that aisle one of the greatest joys of my wedding day will be seeing you there at the end, watching the daughter you've raised, taught, loved and inspired take her husband and start our life together. There will be tears, but they will be of sweet joy and celebration.

Mom, Happy Anniversary. Keep fighting, keep believing and keep your faith. We are right there with you every step of the way and I love you very, very much. Cheers to you today and to MANY more anniversaries!

Kellie S., Pittsburgh, PA 3/7/08

Hi. I was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer which spread to the liver in January ‘06. I had never smoked, don't drink, did exercise and was in good health up to this time (although there is a history of cancer on both sides of my family). Since then I went on Gemzar and Tarceva for about 15 months. My scans had been showing no detectable cancer for the last 12 months. I had a biopsy on my liver which turned out negative and tried going off chemo for about 6 weeks. Unfortunately, the cancer returned and I went back on the same chemo regimen. It didn't work as well the second time and in October ‘07 I switched to Gemzar and oxaliplatin. That seemed to work as my last scans from January ‘08 are clear again.

I write this to offer hope to everyone who has to go through this. I have relied on my faith, family and friends to get through this and learned that these are the most important lasting things in my life. I don't know for sure what my future holds but I am sure that cancer and death will not be the end for me since my faith promises me a perfect cancer free life after this one. I have found a good cancer support group at a church and talking to the many survivors there has been a huge benefit. I also have been fortunate to have kept working most of the past 2 years and I try to eat healthy and do some exercise, mostly walking and light weightlifting, to keep my strength up. I pray my story will offer some encouragement to you.

Mark P., Bartlett, IL 2/22/08

I have been looking for a site like this since being released from the hospital in April 2006. No one else can really relate to my experience, and here I was able to read about other survivors. And, if you look at the web sites and the stats, you would think that there are none! Reading these inspiring stories has given me such a lift.

I was told that I had a "mass" on the tail of my pancreas in Dec 2005, with the only chance of survival being surgery! Honestly, after going home and reading related web sites, I thought I was going to die of fear before I would even have the surgery. I went into denial for 6 weeks. Then I thought, I'll just juice-fast that 2.5 cm tumor away. I fasted for 21 days on the master cleaner-lemonade diet. I felt great after and lost some needed weight, but the repeat CT scan showed that it was still very much there. So I surrendered and consented and had a distal pancreatectomy and splenectomy. I now have 50% of my pancreas. One of the issues following surgery was menopause; hot flashes started about the day I got home from the hospital, and I think I've aged a lot. Oh well. Panic attacks, which are so not me, are an issue right now. I was, in my youth, a rollercoaster junkie; now I drive slowly in the slow lane. Depression set in because my job of 22 years refused to take me back when they found out what kind of surgery I had. Don't worry, I am pursuing that issue. And, you know what can follow job loss, (I am a sub-prime mortgage poster child), STRESS as never before, bankruptcy just to save the house, snowball, crash, burn. So, this all has affected my healing process. But, I am keeping my head up.

A CT scan last April showed all is well and I will expect the same when I go for another this April. Although, I need to believe that I am healed and stop tripping every time I feel any kind of pain. Once the stress level of being broke subsides, I know will feel more confident. Because you know how you feel when you're broke, pretty darn lousy, right? I will use this site now for continued support.

I am so very grateful for my life now. I will admit that I used to be a little over confident, a little arrogant, but this experience has forever humbled me. I am a soon to be a 51 year old African American woman who intends to live life beating the odds and those stats that I've decided don't apply to me. By the way, I don't eat junk anymore. I'm loving that tonic called Noni, I am eating those digestive enzymes, the omega 3, flax oil, multi-vitamin with iron, guzzling carrot juice, and trying to do something about this ugly belly fat. I am using the very dated Jane Fonda work out tapes. Blessings to all who read this and much success in staying positive and healthy!! BE WELL, LIVE LONG!!

Sheila D., Berkeley, CA 2/10/08

In January 2007, I began experiencing symptoms of jaundice with dark urine, light stool, and terrible itching over my entire body. A few months earlier I had joined Weight Watchers because I had been battling obesity for years and was finally fed up with being so uncomfortable. I had been diagnosed with diabetes in 1999 and the weight did not allow me to manage the disease very well. After I had lost about 30 pounds, I noticed that my blood glucose levels were going up instead of down; in fact, they were hovering in the high 400s to 500s. Realizing something wasn't right, I went to my primary physician for a comprehensive blood test.

A few days later, I received a phone call from the doctor. He said my liver enzymes were off the chart and he wanted me to have an abdominal ultrasound and make an appointment with a liver specialist to see what might be going on. Obviously this news was disturbing and I asked if this could be life-threatening. He responded that it was probably a treatable condition and that it was not life-threatening. Was he ever wrong!

A week and a half later I went to the liver specialist and after listening to my description of the symptoms and reviewing my blood test results, he said he wanted me to have an MRI immediately, that day if possible, but no later than the next morning. I went in the next day and was told it would be a few days before the results would be available, but I got a call that afternoon from my doctor. He had gone to the hospital shortly after the test was completed and asked the radiologist to read the scan as soon as possible. The news was disturbing, but the reality of the situation had not registered with me yet. Even though I was told there appeared to be a mass in the pancreas and that I should be "very" concerned, I had no knowledge of pancreatic disease, so I just trusted that everything would be alright. In the same conversation, this doctor told me that he had already made an appointment for me at a major hospital in Chicago to have a test called an ERCP. He saw the urgency in the situation and acted accordingly. To this day I believe I owe this man my life.

The results of the test revealed a 2 centimeter mass on the pancreas that appeared to be contained. The next appointment was with the chief of surgery who told me that surgery was the logical next step and that he would perform a Whipple procedure. At no time did he mention cancer, and I was confident that there was none present.

I was in surgery for about eleven hours, but from the onset, I was blessed with one miracle after another. After being told I would likely spend up to three days in the ICU and ten to fourteen days in the hospital, I spent less than twelve hours in the ICU and was home in just under seven days. It wasn't until I went back to have the staples removed that I was given the news that the diagnosis was cancer. Even at this point, however, the doctor was confident that he had caught it in time and that I would be fine. I knew only time would tell, but I am grateful to this man for his expertise as well as his positive attitude and perpetual encouragement.

The recovery from the surgery, which took place in mid-March, was long and somewhat tedious due to a few infections of the wound, but I am doing well now.

The message I want to send to everyone who is diagnosed with this terrible disease is that it is treatable and extended high-quality life is not only possible, but likely with the right attitude and faith.

Paul B., Wheaton, IL 2/7/08

It all started in 1998 when I was told I had large tumor on my left kidney. I had the tumor and adrenal gland removed that year. Then in May 2002, I was told I had pancreatic cancer and an option of two more months to live or to go through a very complicated and "dicey" operation with a maximum 50/50 chance to survive. The surgeon found out during the procedure that my whole pancreas was filled with a tumor. He removed my spleen, ENTIRE pancreas, gall bladder and bile duct. They basically "lost" me on the operating table due to heavy bleeding, but were able to bring me back.

It was tough recovering. I had to go through chemo treatment for 6 months. I changed careers, moved from overseas to the US and got on with life thanks to family, friends and employer support.

In 2005, it was that time again. Some pancreatic tumor cells had obviously been left behind. I had a large tumor on my stomach that had fused with my colon. I proceeded with 4 months of chemo and radiation, which was extremely tough. Due to the chemotherapy, I lost all the skin on my feet and hands. I then had half of my stomach and part of my colon removed. After this, I went through chemo treatment again. In 2007, cancer stuck its ugly head up again showing enlarged and growing lymph nodes in my abdomen. We are treating it and that seems to be working with minimal side effects.

Soon it will be 6 years without a pancreas! The last 5 years I have been working full time, traveling the world for my company. I am getting tired, but it is worth every extra day to be able to enjoy friends, and family. There is hope for everyone in the darkest of hours. The medical profession has not seen it all just yet!

Dennie N., Cary, NC 1/23/08

I am 51 years old. On August 16, 2007, I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer after having symptoms of painless jaundice and itching. I was very lucky that, due to the size and location of the tumor, I qualified for the Whipple surgery. I was sent to a surgeon at a cancer center in St. Louis, MO. The surgeon and his wonderful staff performed my Whipple surgery on September, 11 2007. I was up walking the next day and released from the hospital on September 17, 2007. My recovery was amazing according to my doctors. I only had pain from the incision, and that subsided after the first week. I was taking walks and playing with my granddaughters the next week. On October 24, I started a 28 day treatment session of radiation with 6 days of chemotherapy with the drug 5-FU. I had no side effects. I was then given a month off and then resumed my second round of treatment starting January 3, 2008. This round I am receiving straight chemotherapy with a pill twice a day for two weeks of Xeloda and a chemo drip once a week of Gemzar. Again, I have had no side effects.

I will fight this battle with every ounce of fight I have in me. I know that without the love and support of my loving husband, my courageous daughter and her husband, my brave son, my three beautiful granddaughters, my father, my stepmother, my sister and brothers, brother-in-laws, sister-in-law, nieces, nephews and a great group of friends, my outlook may not have been so bright. However, I feel better now than I have in years. I am hoping after this round of treatment, I will be finished and will just continue to get regular checkups and cat scans showing no signs of the cancer. Though this is not a journey most people would want to take, it has changed my life. I am thankful everyday that I awake for having another day with my family and friends and I am thankful again at night for the wonderful day I have had. For to me, everyday is a gift. Make the most of them.

Colleen N., Bloomington, IL 1/10/08

At age 49 I got the news that brought me to my knees. I had stage IV pancreatic cancer and I had three months to live, four months if I took the chemo treatments, but my quality of life would be very poor due to the harshness of the treatments. Naturally, I got mad as heck, why me? I don't drink, smoke or even use caffeine. I had never been sick other than the flu and I was in great shape physically. This can't be happening!

For those of you that got this same message, I assume that you had the same reaction: fear, disbelief, why me and ANGER. I think it is normal to feel that way.

I went home to die feeling very sorry for myself. After a couple of days I began to think straight again and it came to me. I never quit anything in my life, I am stubborn to a fault and I owe it to my wife and two little boys to fight this thing that I have. I will not go without a fight if only to show my kids that you can't give up when the going gets tough.

I started a chemo routine. Every other week on Thursday I had Gemzar and Fridays I had oxaliplatin. I felt terrible for a couple of days but I was back at work on Mondays and did not miss a day other than my chemo days.

To make a long story short, I had great results from the treatment. After 48 rounds my tumor had been reduced from 12cm to 2cm, and has been stable for 10 months.

I have a message that I want to deliver to those of you getting ready to start treatment.

1. It takes a lot of energy to be mad, being mad that you have cancer is like being mad at the weather, it does you no good. Take the energy that you waste being mad and put it towards beating the enemy (cancer). You will need every ounce of energy you have, don't waste it.

2. Remember how lucky you really are. If it was one of my children or my wife that was stricken with cancer, I would be on my hands and knees begging to please let it be me, not them. Well, it is me, so my prayers have already been answered.

3. Don't give up...

Blair J., Matthews, NC 12/17/07

My husband, Ralph, after many tests which indicated no sign of cancer of the pancreas, was finally diagnosed in October of 2006. He was given 6-9 months to live if the cancerous tumor could not be shrunk. And we were given little encouragement. However, after almost 6 weeks of chemotherapy and radiation at a cancer center in our hometown of Shreveport, the tumor was shrunk by about 70%. He was then a good candidate for the Whipple. On February 5 of 2007, he underwent an 8 hour surgery by a brilliant and highly dedicated pancreatic and liver transplant surgeon. Ralph's recovery was difficult but he fared better than most, especially considering his then age of 67. I am happy to report that he is in great shape. He lost a lot of weight but is now a trim 157 pounds and has been getting on our roof these past few months to clean out the gutters. His quality of life is better than it was a year ago. He does not digest fats...they go right through him. But, he has no pain and we think this is a miracle.

Charlene B., Shreveport, LA 12/1/07

In March of 2002, having been widowed only a year before, after caring for my very ill husband for seven years, I began feeling very ill. My first symptom was extreme itching on my torso. I was sure that after seven years of caring for Pete, my house was probably not as clean as it should be; therefore, I imagined that there might be fleas in the house from my tiny Pomeranian. Well, I got some powerful flea bombs and let them do their work in the house while both the dog and I spent the night in a motel. We came home hoping to have a restful night....not so. I itched even more. Then, I decided that there must be dust mites in my home. I hadn't had the carpets and upholstery cleaned in a few years since I was so overwhelmed with other matters. I ordered some very expensive dust mite cures online, proceeded to apply them, spent another night in a motel, and came home to the very same problem.

At this time I was teaching part-time in the International American Language Center in our local university. I began desperately spraying my stomach area with cortisone spray....I couldn't make it through an entire class without some relief, so I would dash across the hall to the bathroom to spray about every fifteen minutes. My students, I am sure, thought I was absolutely crazy!!

Then, about two months later, I had black urine and a white stool, a symptom of jaundice. My physician, a dear friend who had cared for Pete lovingly during his last years, said I was jaundiced and that we would test until we found out why. I was one of the lucky ones whose tumor blocked a bile duct; otherwise, pancreatic cancer is usually a silent killer. Within forty-eight hours after having a stent implanted in my gall bladder, my liver enzymes had improved greatly. My physician made arrangements to go to an institution where two physicians were conducting a study of pancreatic cancer and trying very hard to improve the possibility of life after the Whipple. In my estimation, these two doctors are as close to God as a human being can get. They are dedicated, very much involved, and highly skilled. I know that I would not be alive today were it not for their efforts. They and their staff members were available any time 24-7 after I returned to my son's home in Seattle. At the slightest notion of a problem, I was placed back in the hospital under their care immediately.

Something that truly impressed me about the hospital's staff was that everyone, from the custodian to the surgeons, was always on task. After seven years of chasing ambulances and lifebirds during my husband's illness, I was prepared for the worst. I was always having to get downright obnoxious in order to get the proper care for him. Not so, at this hospital. They were wonderful.

I recently had my five-year checkup and am still cancer-free. An additional reward during that week was that I became a grandmother for the first time. What a week that was!!!!

Over the internet and by telephone, I have mentored several people in the area who have had pancreatic cancer. I must tell you that my survival has been the most humbling of experiences. I take such pleasure in a sunrise, a sunset, rise to greet the day with a smile, and treasure the minutes, hours, and days of my life.

Patsy R., Clarkston, WA 11/19/07

My sister was diagnosed with pancreatitis in October of 2006 which in December was upgraded to an inoperable pancreatic tumor. She did not share with us the "sentence" her doctor gave her. All I do know is it was BAD! BUT, I refuse to believe that there is "no hope" and neither does she. She went to a hospital hoping they could help; they were useless and like many other doctors told her to go home and die. Well, we prayed with the faith of a mustard seed and my sister found another institution which, by the way, the doctor at the first hospital rolled his eyes and said he did not put much stock in.

First off, NEVER think you can have too much faith. We are wonderfully made. We have incredible healing powers. My sister's cancer marker, which was at 4,000, has steadily dropped and is now at 50 with no signs of any spreading. It is a year now and she is looking great. This is not to say it has not been rough and incredibly emotional. At her institution, they treated her holistically, mind, body and spirit. She had three types of chemo. The support there is incredible!

Do not allow the doctors to make you believe you have no options, because you do. My sister totally changed her lifestyle and eating habits. She eats raw foods and juices, cutting out sugars and refined foods, and no smoking or drinking. These things have to lose their importance to you. And it is so important to believe, believe you can and you will be healed. False hope is an oxymoron, there is no such thing. You have hope or you do not. Please, have hope!

Valerie N., Fair Play, CA 11/4/07

I am glad to tell you that I am a 16 year cancer survivor. I was diagnosed with periampullary adenocarcinoma when I was 41. I had a 6 hour Whipple procedure in May 1991 in a hospital in Kalamazoo, MI. My symptoms were itchy skin, yellow-colored eyes and fever. The operative findings were a large 3 centimeter mushroom-shaped mass in the Ampulla of Vater. There was no evidence of any known metastases. I stayed in the hospital for 11 days and was discharged under the care of my sister who is an R.N. with critical care experience. By the way, I had no chemotherapy or radiation. I am a type II diabetic and had my gall bladder removed.

I am now 58 years old. I'd like to share my story to other survivors. Faith and family support are very important.

My advice is get medical attention once you experience pain in your body. I am alive, enjoying life with my family in the Philippines, and I am sharing my story.

Lydia Y., Las Pinas City, Philippines 11/1/07

Reading the stories of courage and determination has given me and my family hope during our whirlwind with this disease. I am writing about my Father who had no symptoms but had had a fever and a fainting spell while visiting the doctor. They attributed the fainting spell to his fever. He was admitted to the hospital because there was a protein test that was performed that seemed, as the doctor said, "peculiar". Amazingly enough, the doctors didn't give up on trying to figure out what was going on. Over a period of 5 days in the hospital my dad was visited by over 30 different physicians from Infectious Disease to Oncologists. It was while performing a CT scan of his lungs to check for a blood clot (which runs in his family) they saw a mass on his pancreas.

Cancer wasn't what we were thinking was going on. He had a follow up scan, and then an endoscopy biopsy which confirmed his diagnosis. He had a distal pancreatectomy removing the body and tail of his pancreas, all lymph nodes around the pancreas, and the spleen. He does have metastases to the liver. He is one of the lucky ones, for getting to have surgery and healing pretty quickly. He did have one set back just a few weeks ago, where he developed a "leak" where pancreatic fluid had built up and he had to have that drained and was hospitalized for a few days. He has lost almost 60 pounds and continues to lose a pound here and there. He is eating well but doesn't seem to be maintaining his weight very well. We continue to remain very optimistic.

It is amazing how something so devastating can bring so much good to a family. We are closer now than we have been in years. My dad's famous words, since hearing of his diagnosis and talking with people on the cancer floor at the hospital, have been "It could always be worse". I am so thankful that we still have him and that he continues to face each day with such an amazing attitude.

I admire each and every patient, caregiver, daughter, son, and friend that is living with this disease. Keep on fighting, keep on raising your voice, and most importantly, Keep On Living!!

Shelley G., Des Moines, IA 10/29/07

I was inspired to tell my story after reading a story from another advanced stage patient. She was dismayed that so few survivor stories were written by stage IV patients. Like her, I also looked for similar stories when I was first diagnosed 17 months ago. In the spring of 2006, at age 50, I was sent by my primary care physician for a CT scan after complaining of abdominal pain which he suspected was due to a kidney stone. Within days I began experiencing very typical obstructive jaundice systems -- dark urine, severe itching and yellowing of the eyes. Everything happened very quickly. I had a CT scan within a day or two of speaking with my doctor. I went in for the scan in the late afternoon and my doctor had the results the next morning. He called and had me schedule an MRI and come in for blood work. Again, results were back the next day. Within one week, I went from a very healthy, active woman to having a confirmation of stage IV pancreatic cancer through a liver biopsy. I was admitted to the hospital due to the jaundice and to have an ERCP to place a stent in my biliary duct and to do the liver biopsy. I am fortunate to be in Chicago with access to a world-class medical center.

After almost one and a half years of Gemzar (gemcitabine) chemotherapy, I am feeling very good and my tumors in both my pancreas and liver have shrunk. I remain quite active and often travel to visit family and friends. I feel that each day is a blessing. My husband, family, friends and medical team have all been a source of tremendous support.

Nancy T., Chicago, IL 9/19/07

Devastating.

One word to describe the overwhelming realization that PanCAN's Survivor and Caregiver Network did not contain any volunteers who had metastases in all the same locations as I.  I spent hours reading and rereading the inspirational stories for someone with a similar story. I checked daily, hoping to find that one person. I was, however, thrilled to talk to two incredible stage IV survivors in the Survivor and Caregiver Network and maintained the hope that I would one day be able to serve a resource for others.

Partial Remission.

Two words to describe my current status after eight months of treatment. The tumors, once ‘too numerous to count,' are retreating. My liver and lymph nodes, clean. The tumors on my lungs and pancreas, shrinking. I allow myself to take comfort in this victory, knowing and understanding how fortunate I am to be alive.

Owning my Life.

Three words that describe me. I quickly realized it's not about ‘finding a balance' between my life and the tumors. It's about throwing everything I love, everything wonderful in life, at cancer. Recognizing my fear and anger, and still finding the strength within to seek out my dreams. Squeezing as much life as possible in between blood work, appointments, treatment, and scans. Trying to live, laugh and love more than lament.

I am strong. I am fighting. I am surviving.

Nine words that have kept me alive.

My story isn't about pancreatic cancer.  It's about living.

http://survivingpc.blogspot.com/

Kate T., Boyds, MD 8/31/07

Three weeks ago, I walked in a storm to the lumber store to get wood for an as-yet-not-built kitchen drawer divider. In the downpour, I passed an open suitcase filled with three inches of water and floating picture frames. I rescued two of those frames, which I washed and dried out. They are as good as new, both blue, one leather, the other wood. Two days later, a photograph arrived in the mail, which I put into the wood frame. It is a photo of a hotel staircase packed with thirty waving people. If you peruse it, you will see me towards the back. It is a gift from PanCAN, taken at this year's Pancreatic Cancer Symposium – New York. We are all survivors, of mixed ages, genders, races, and ethnicities. What we have in common is that we are all smiling.

It is, indeed, a good day.

Mary Rose D., Brooklyn , NY 8/14/07

I appreciate very much these examples of faith, hope and determination.

I am a seven year pancreatic survivor and want to add my own story of survivorship to these inspiring stories and have written a blog at http://cansurvivor.blogspot.com/.

In a nutshell, I believe in using both Western Medicine and carefully selected Complementary and Alternative Medicine methods. I think tough diagnosis calls for openness to “out of the box thinking”. And I certainly believe that fighting makes a big difference in one's health. I also explore what makes a good oncologist and discuss why I needed to change oncologists very early in my treatment.

To Life!

Jerry A., Coralville , IA 7/22/07

I was diagnosed with Non-Functioning Islet Cell Carcinoma, a neuroendocrine tumor, in August of 2000. I underwent a Whipple operation but declined chemo or radiation. For 6 years I was tumor free, but I knew that this type of cancer was slow growing and I could expect it to show up again. In October of 2006, I was found to have multiple metastases in my liver, spine, right hip and abdomen. I went to a cancer center and saw a physician who is a neuroendocrine specialist. He recommended a brutal chemo regimen that might help a little, but would probably make me very sick. I came home and started very intense research on the internet which led me to PanCAN and from there I found another physician.

I went to see him and he immediately told me that he felt I was a good candidate for internal irradiation of neuroendocrine tumors with Yttrium-90-DOTATOC, a radiolabeled somatostatin analogue. Unfortunately, this treatment is only being done in Europe at this time. Here in the states, they are in the final clinical trials for final FDA approval. We chose to go to a University hospital in Switzerland not knowing if insurance would pay or not. Some do, some don't, but a lot more are with appeals. I underwent two treatments 8 weeks apart and now I am completely tumor free. I was amazed at how fast the tumors disappeared; I had no side effects, and feel great!! I read so many sad stories of people suffering from these types of tumors and they have never been offered this treatment. I just want to share that it is available and I understand it is not for everyone, but it saved my life. If I can help one other patient, then it is worth letting more people know about it.

Marcella O., Pensacola , FL 6/27/07

My husband and I were so happy because we had our first baby in October. In November our families were with us because they met the baby. They came from our country. We are not American and we are living alone in the United States. Those days, my husband didn't feel ok, his skin was turning yellow and his urine was dark. We went to the ER, he got a CT scan and they found a mass in his pancreas. It was terrible; he is 32 years old and we had a three week old baby.

His surgery was on December 6, they took the tumor. The margins were clear but of 23 lymph nodes, 5 were positive. My husband had two cycles of chemo with Gemzar and 5-FU. And he finished his chemoradiation 3 weeks ago. The first CT scan was fine and the next is on June 18th. We hope that it will be ok.

I want to share my husband's story because I want to help people who have the same illness. It is so hard to face cancer, but don't believe in numbers, all people are different.

We are young people and our baby is 8 months old now. This disease does not care about age, but we must keep strong and fight against cancer.

I am strong to support my husband and take care of my baby. I had never believed that I could be so strong, but I have received many things from this terrible situation in my life. We can never lose the HOPE.

Mora L., Philadelphia , PA 6/5/07

I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in November 2005 after having bouts of diarrhea and stomach cramping that had come and gone for about 6 weeks. It was a Thursday when I went to the doctor the first time. He gave me some prescription antacids; I called on Tuesday saying they didn't work. I had an ultrasound on Wednesday evening and was told, on Friday, that my pancreas and spleen were enlarged and I had to have a CAT scan and blood work done. I had that done on Monday and Wednesday evening I was in his office and he gave me the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer.

I went to a cancer center and contacted a local oncologist. I had the biopsy done the day before Thanksgiving. My mom flew in and helped for the next couple of weeks. I was told that the cancer was inoperable due to involvement with the superior mesenteric artery and to try chemo and radiation. So I started Xeloda and cisplatin. When that ended I was put on Tarceva and returned to the cancer center. I was told that it was still inoperable and after prodding about what that meant the doctor said "You have a month to a year." That was a year ago March. My Dad, who lives locally, had gone to the cancer center with me and we both cried. When we stopped I called my oncologist. She is the most wonderful caring woman and also very knowledgeable. We went to her office and she said she had just seen something from a surgeon at another institution looking for pancreatic cancer patients with unresectable tumors.

So off I went to that institution. There I was told again the artery entanglement precluded me from surgery. My oncologist and my new surgeon talked and decided that we would start on Gemzar and Tarceva. At the end of May I went for more tests. I was bloated and the thought was that it had spread. They performed a laparoscopy to see what was going on and came back and said they could now do surgery.

On June 15, 2006 I had surgery. It was a new surgery, not the traditional Whipple. I was on the table for 11.5 hours. I lost my spleen, a vein from my neck was relocated to replace a piece of a vein that was involved, and the tail of my pancreas was removed. I was at the hospital for another 3 and a half weeks recovering.

They did finally let me out when I said I was going to walk a mile up the road with my IV pole to my friend's wedding. I did manage to dance to several of my favorite songs at her wedding, the day after being released from the hospital. Of course she had hired our favorite local band to play, so what could I do?

I was in and out of the hospital over the next month and a half. My port got infected (another week stay). I reacted to the antibiotics (another week). Once I was better from all the reactions, I felt good. I was back to work the last week of August.

My CAT and PET scans came back clear in October/ November. Then, in January 2007, two spots were found on my liver. According to my oncologist, a local community radiologist would have never found them. Thank goodness for my cancer center.

I am now in my second round of immunotherapy treatments as part of a phase II clinical trial. The spots have not grown since I started the trial, so that is good. I continue to have treatments once every three weeks and have two more to go. Then they will have to determine what to do next if the spots aren't gone (that's the hope with this trial). The nice thing about the immunotherapy is that it does not affect me at all, I feel normal and healthy.

Pam W., Germantown , MD 5/28/07

My journey began on April 24, 2006. I had been having an intermittent, annoying pain on my left side that I thought resulted from exercising (pulled muscle) and also some Popeye's fried chicken (which I don't normally eat). The combination of the two caused quite a bit of pain one evening. I called my doctor and he suggested I go to the emergency room. After extensive testing, I was told that I had a "suspicious lesion" on my pancreas and I should see a surgeon after release from the hospital.

Being very naive about what a "suspicious lesion on the pancreas" really meant, I went home and spent the day on the internet. Overwhelmed by my findings, but determined not to let it "get me", I immediately interviewed several surgeons. I had the Whipple surgery on May 6, 2006 and was released 6 days later from the hospital on May 12th, just in time for Mother's Day. The 2.5 cm tumor was removed, there were no metastases, and my lymph nodes were all clear (stage I pancreatic cancer).

After surgery, chemo and radiation, I returned to work after approximately 4 months. I had a very stressful job as a director of human resources, and my husband felt it best for my complete and continued recovery that I resign in April 2007. Shortly after returning home from a lovely vacation to the Dominican Republic , on February 28, 2007, I was taken to the emergency room. I had emergency surgery the next morning to remove part of the small intestine that had become ischemic due to scar tissue and/or radiation from the first surgery. That was my last day on the job where I'd worked for 27years. I now have SBS (short bowel syndrome) and am home healing, adjusting to my, prayerfully, temporary need for TPN (nutritional supplement), and staying tuned for what is planned for me on the next leg of this wonderful journey called life. I remain cancer free.

Two major surgeries in less than 1 year! There is so much good news that I could share with you that has occurred on this journey that I truly don't stop (very often) to think about the not so good news. Sitting here telling my story is such a blessing and a gift. I've also had the blessing of two beautiful grandchildren born in the past year (both 2 months premature but doing well). One was born a few days before my first surgery and the other one a few days after my second surgery. In addition to my faith, I give special thanks to my incredible husband (married 9/04), my ever praying mother and step-father, my faithful children, my church family, my incredible co-workers, and a host of other friends and family. I had people all over the world praying for me and for that I give THANKS! A very special thanks to a friend who I met recently through a coworker who knew that we were both on the same journey. Her spirit is incredible and it has helped to keep me going. We've never met in person but we plan to have lunch real soon.

There are so many incredible stories of faith within my story about my pancreatic cancer journey that I'd need to write a book to fully capture all of the blessings of the past 12 months of my life. Please, if you're on this journey, stay positive and stay faithful!

Debbi V., Silver Spring , MD 5/3/07

My name is Bill. I am 25 years old and I have pancreatic cancer. Not only do I have it, I have a rare kind of tumor, IPMN. The chance of me getting this based on my age and background is .001%.

This all started when I was having some really bad heartburn and my stomach would feel like a washing machine. I went to the clinic to have an ultrasound done. The test came back showing a mass on my pancreas no bigger than a dime. A blood test also showed raised liver numbers that would rival someone with Hepatitis C or Liver Disease. Over the course of the first 6 months of 2006, I would have 3 biopsies and too many blood tests to remember. Each biopsy would come back showing it as non-cancerous, which later on would not be the case. During this period of time, I would become a diabetic and lose over 40 pounds to go from 170 to around 135-130. I was a walking zombie and knew there was something the doctors weren't finding.

In July of 2006, I was able to speak with a case worker at a cancer center about my situation. After this, this cancer center became one of the reasons I'm still here today. I first saw a gastroenterologist who had an EUS biopsy done which showed a blockage in my bile duct, but again the test showed up negative for cancer. My doctors weren't convinced about this because my CA 19-9 was abnormal. I was then referred to the head of the GI unit and head of pancreatic oncology. I will forever say that this man saved my life. He told me that I would need to have a Whipple operation done and that I would go through a round of tests a week before the surgery. One test they give you is a PET scan which shows cancer in your body. Well, in my scan, it showed that there indeed was something showing up as cancer and he wouldn't know the damage until the surgery.

August 23rd, 2006 at 6:30am, I was brought into the operating room for what, on average, is a 6-8 hour operation. When I was opened up they found that the tumor was directly on top of a major blood vessel that if cut would cause me to die from blood loss. The surgeon would later tell my parents it was like "cutting hard concrete off wet tissue paper". My operation would last 13 1/2 hours. After I woke up from the surgery, I didn't sleep for the next 2 days straight. I felt helpless and alone. I was depressed because I felt that the life I had before would never be the same.

My hospital stay was longer than most after the surgery. Most stays are 7-10 days. I was there for 2 1/2 weeks. I was able to move around and walk around the hospital when I was up to it. Friends and family would visit me all the time and that made things a lot easier to deal with. When I read about this cancer online and learned everything I could about it, I found statistics. I keep those numbers in the back of my head to know that they only numbers, not a death sentence.

My stomach didn't wake up from the surgery until 2 weeks later. That would be my first real meal in 2 weeks. I will remember it forever, roast beef with mashed potatoes and mixed veggies. Oh, and I almost forgot, chocolate cake. I can say that was some of the best food I ever had. I didn't finish it all, not even half, but just the fact that I was able to eat solid food again made me feel like I was normal again.

I left the hospital on September 9th in a wheelchair with a drainage tube and a feeding tube weighing 125 pounds. My staples were gone, hospital stay done. Ahead of me would be the biggest challenge I would ever face in my life, chemo and radiation. A lead oncologist specializing in pancreatic cancer treatment put me on what they called "an aggressive treatment plan". This would include 3 stages of treatment. The first would be 3 treatments of Gemzar and a week off. The second stage would be 28 radiation treatments along with wearing a pump with 5-FU for 5 days a week for 5 1/2 weeks. The third stage was 9 treatments of Gemzar with the treatment broken up into 3 weeks on and 1 week off.

The first 3 treatments weren't that bad. I had nausea but not the vomiting I expected. I did not lose any weight during this time. I had a week off but then started my radiation treatment with chemo. This period of time was the worst for me. Between the treatments and sleeping while Ensure was being pumped into me, the nausea and vomiting was terrible and violent.  The one thing that helped me through this period and my entire treatment period was smoking medical marijuana.  My doctors agreed that this and the vitamins I was taking were helping with my nausea as well as with putting weight on.

I was given a 13 day break after the second stage which I took full advantage of, going out and hanging out with my friends for the first time in months. The third stage of treatment was very hard because the nausea and vomiting increased, but yet I was still able to keep on the weight because of the vitamins and medical marijuana.

My last treatment was on Feb. 23rd and since then I've had 3 blood tests and PET/CT scans. All were normal, my scans were clear and my cancer makers are in the single digits. I am also 160 pounds and, other than the scars from the surgery, you wouldn't know that I ever had cancer. I am thankful everyday that I am alive because a year ago at this time, I thought I'd be gone and not able to tell you my story. Not a day goes by that I don't think about everything I went through, but it has matured me and turned me into a better person. I know now that when you have a wall in front of you, you go through it and get to the other side. With cancer, any cancer, there is only one way to get to the other side of the wall and that's to hit it with everything you have to break that wall down.

I hope that my story helps someone get through having cancer or someone helping someone who has cancer to let them know that you can beat this. I am living proof of it.

Bill H., Palm Harbor , FL 4/30/07

I was diagnosed in September 2007 with pancreatic cancer, a combination of adenocarcinoma and squamous carcinoma. It started as a sharp pain in my solar plexus. I thought it was acid reflux. With the persistence of my wife, I went to my doctor after having dark urine and clay colored stools. After two weekends in the hospital they finally performed a biopsy with brushings. The results came back highly suspicious of adenocarcinoma. My heart stopped. I had an idea of that the first night in the ER when the attending came in and told me there was a mass on my pancreas. They didn't want to call it cancer. They all said I was too young and it was most likely gallstones. Whatever. I knew.

My wife was two months pregnant, I had just bought a house, and had just gotten my pool table. All my dreams had come true. How could it all fall apart now?

The tumor was one centimeter at diagnosis and had gone to two and a half later on. I began Xeloda and radiation therapy that October to prepare myself for the Whipple procedure. Those months between September and January were what they were, waiting to see if I would be operable, not knowing whether or not it would spread. When I got the pre-op test results, my wife and I were speechless. They said that they really couldn't find anything to speak of. What a miracle. Surgery was a week later on January 10th. Pathology found that the margins were negative and 7 of 7 lymph nodes were negative. I began chemotherapy two months later as good measure. The ride is still rolling. I pray to keep us all safe and healthy. So far so good.

I hope this gives somebody hope. This can be beat. YOU MUST HAVE FAITH!!! I would not be here now with out the prayers of all who cared about me. Right now I am cancer free and hope and pray that it stays that way.

Brad D., Garner, NC 4/27/07

My husband was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last July. He was feeling great and had no symptoms until one day when he called me and said his urine was a gold color. The next day he became nauseous and started to turn yellow. He immediately went to his doctor who did blood tests and a CT Scan and referred us to a gastroenterologist. He then had an EUS done and all of the tests were negative. Finally, he had an ERCP and that showed a suspicious spot.

The following Monday he had a Whipple procedure done. A two centimeter tumor was found with no signs of spreading. We were devastated with the news but thankful that it was caught early. After surgery he had five weeks of 5-FU and radiation therapy. After that he had six months of Gemzar. He just finished his last treatment. The CT Scans and PET Scans have been negative. The only problem he has is scar tissue pain that comes and goes.

We are so hopeful that since the disease was found so early he will be ok, but I don't think we will ever be able to not worry. We try to stay positive and now that the chemo is over we hope to start doing the things we used to enjoy. The stories that I have read here have given us hope. Good luck to all of you who are going through this. It is not easy but you need to be strong and have the will to keep going!!!

Nancy , Delray Beach , FL 4/23/07

It made me feel so good to read all these survival stories. I mostly hear pancreatic cancer stories with bad outcomes. It makes me wonder, am I the only survivor? Why me? Just as I wondered fourteen years ago when I was diagnosed.

I am now leading a very full and healthy life and thank God every day. The best three words I ever heard were NED (NO EVIDENCE OF DISEASE) and I hope and pray it stays this way for a long, long time. My battle began when I was forty years old and my only child was three years old. I prayed to be alive for her sweet sixteen and she hit sixteen this year! I'm not going say it was easy, it was a long and hard battle, but the outcome turned out better than anyone expected.