Megan's Story

Eleven months ago, I was a 22-year-old newlywed with a plan. My husband and best friend, Peter, and I were married on August 2, 2008. We spent the first three months of our marriage imagining the wonderful life we would have together. I was pursuing my dream of becoming a speech pathologist at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln--once my studies were complete, my husband and I would move to move to Fort Wayne, Indiana where he would begin studies to be a Lutheran pastor.

A few days after my husband and I took our first trip to Illinois after our wedding, I started experiencing jaundice and felt fatigued. At first doctors thought I was having an allergic reaction to medication, but after bloodwork, an ultrasound of my abdomen, and a CT scan (all of which happened within a few hours), I was told that there was a large mass in my liver that might be cancer. My heart sank, and I recalled a sick feeling I had the night before that there was something seriously wrong with me.

After several more tests and doctors’ visits I was diagnosed with metastatic cholangiocarcinoma (bile duct cancer)--a disease which almost always affects people at least 2 or 3 times my age. Because of the advanced nature of my cancer, I was told that surgery would not be an option.

Almost immediately after my diagnosis, my husband and I moved into my parents' home to be close to Chicago's medical facilities and to our families. I started chemotherapy (a regimen of 2 weeks of Gemzar and Xeloda
followed by a week of rest), and, thanks to God, my tumors began shrinking (they’re now stable, which is certainly preferable to growing). My worst side effects from chemotherapy include fatigue, flu-like symptoms, a puffy face, and peeling feet, but the drugs have not caused me to lose my hair. Throughout the past 11 months of chemotherapy, I have learned what to expect on each day of the cycle, and I can plan my activities around my good days. I’ve had my share of bad days, but I choose to let the good days outweigh the bad.

My family and I have had moments of extreme hope followed by moments of extreme despair. I’ve had several surgeries (2 of which were attempted, but unsuccessful, resections of my primary tumor), lost both my ovaries and my gallbladder, and spent much of my time in doctor’s offices, emergency rooms, and hospitals. However, this fall my husband and I decided that we couldn’t live our life tied to the chemo chair, frozen by the fear of what might happen next. We modified our plans, found a doctor in Fort Wayne, IN, and moved so that Peter could attend Concordia Theological Seminary. So far, God has blessed us with a lot of love and support from family and friends, and we're looking forward to growing and learning during this next chapter of our lives.

Now I am a 23-year-old approaching the one-year anniversary of my diagnosis. My plans may have changed, but I am living on God's timeline, not anybody else's. I realize that I am fortunate to be doing as well as I am. More importantly, I am extremely blessed to be able to share my belief in miracles with others as well as the peace and comfort that comes with God's love.