Hi everyone! I am Caitlin Mullinix and this is my husband, Jonathan, and our son, Nicholas. Nicholas will turn 2 years old this weekend. And I am so lucky to be here to celebrate, because he was only 4 weeks old when I was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma.
I went from pregnant and glowing to tremendously ill quite quickly. The early days at home with Nicholas were full of the typical baby-related challenges, as we had expected. But things didn’t get easier as the days passed. I experienced what I thought were post-partum symptoms and possible complications from my c-section….fevers, night sweats, shortness of breath. And boy, was I tired. But I had a newborn, and I figured, “so this is what everyone is talking about!”
After several visits with my OB, my symptoms eventually landed me in the emergency room. A battery of tests ensued, which revealed an enormous mass in my chest. No wonder it was so hard to breathe when baby Nicholas rested on my chest. The mass was biopsied immediately, but the procedure was too stressful for my already strained system. I wasn’t breathing well during biopsy, so I was placed on a ventilator and stayed in the ICU for a week.
Doctors began chemo immediately – my first treatment actually took place when I was asleep under the power of the ventilator. When I woke up, reality sunk in. I had cancer. What a frightening word. Cancer is something that happens to other people, not to me. I was only 32. I had a new baby that needed me. I had to return to work. I had plans. This was not my plan. But, everyone emphasized that this was a good cancer to get. It was highly treatable. I’d be free of it in a short period of time and would be able to move on with my plans.
For the next 6 months, I underwent the standard chemotherapy treatment for my disease. Maternity leave from work became disability leave. Family and friends came from all parts of the world to take care of me, and my husband, and baby Nicholas. The switch from doing the caring to being cared for was emotionally very difficult. I was supposed to be the nurturing one. For nine months, I had been “becoming” a mom. Now, I was back in the arms of my own mom.
After six months of standard chemotherapy, it became clear that my disease was unusually aggressive. It turns out that my Hodgkin’s wasn’t the easy kind to get rid of. During the next six months, my excellent team of physicians attempted three more chemo regimens in an effort to reduce the amount of disease in my body, but nothing proved to be “the cure.”
Finally, in October of last year, I had a stem cell transplant at UCSF. My younger sister was a perfect match and donated her stem cells to me. I am so happy to say that the transplant was successful. Approximately 6 months after the transplant, the graft started working and her healthy cells starting killing the wicked Lymphoma ones in my body. By the beginning of the summer, scans revealed that all those previous areas of disease that had been so resistant to chemo were now gone!
This last year since transplant has been one of recovery. I was in the hospital for a month during the transplant, and after being released, I was under house arrest for a few months. My immune system was as fresh as a newborn’s and the exposure to germs in the outside world was just too risky. I have experienced a range of side effects from the transplant and medications and graft-vs-host disease. Also, there were two little diseased nodes in my lung that my sister's cells just couldn't get to that were surgically removed two weeks ago. Which means that today, as I speak with you, I am officially cancer-free. I am finally seeing a light at the end of this long, crooked tunnel. So, this weekend we are not only celebrating Nicholas' big day but also my remission!
Facing cancer opened my family’s eyes to the fact that it can really happen to anyone—even when you are 32. When you are healthy, cancer is just something that you hear about, read about, and see in movies. But when you yourself get sick, you find out that cancer actually all around. Although I may be in remission, our fear of cancer will never fade away. Until there is a cure, there will always be uncertainty that the cancer will return. For everyone who may be touched by blood cancers, the research enabled by events like Light the Night is essential to eliminating this uncertainty. The funds we've raised will hopefully mean that a cure will quickly be a reality.
Thank you to the LLS and all of its generous supporters for the help in finding therapies that saved my life. Because of you, I am here to celebrate.
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