Feb 6, 2017, 10:14 AM
by
Chris Quesada, Patient
It was Friday, April 10, 2015. 3:10pm. I put down the phone in a fog. My head was spinning. All I could think was, "How am I going to tell my fiancée?"
It had started a few months earlier. I had a cold, like any other cold, but I could not seem to shake it. At my fiancee's insistence, I went to see my doctor. I had swollen glands and I was prescribed some medication to take care of it. And all seemed well for awhile, but along came another cold that I could not shake.
As a professional trainer and physical therapist, it's part of my job to be in peak physical condition. I eat well and I am well. That's who I am. This felt different. And a month later I was back to my doctor who sent me to see Dr. Rabindra Braganza, an ENT specialist at Sansum Clinic.
Dr. Braganza put a scope down my throat and consequently sent me for a CAT scan which confirmed an abscess in my throat. He gave me treatment for the inflammation and had me come back a week later for a biopsy.
Late on the day of the biopsy, April 10, he called me with the results. It was cancer.
My long journey had begun. And now I had to tell my fiancée, Aviva. We were getting married in a month. At least, we were supposed to be. I still look back on the trepidation I had as I waited for her to come home so I could tell her the news. She was just as scared as I but became all-business right from the get-go. Where I was in a fog, she became focused - and for my entire journey, the more I needed her, the more she was there.
He was my patient. Now I'm his.
I already knew Dr. Fred Kass from the Cancer Center of Santa Barbara with Sansum Clinic. He had been a patient of mine at my physical therapy clinic. Now I was on the phone with him, telling him Dr. Braganza's diagnosis. "Come on in," he said. It was the end of the day on Friday. I was at my fiancee's house in Simi Valley so I couldn't get to Santa Barbara until after hours. But anyone who knows Dr. Kass wouldn't be surprised to find out that he waited for me.
Once we sat down, Dr. Kass gave it to me straight. "It's going to be hard," he said. He wasn't lying. "But we'll be at your side every step of the way." As history subsequently proved, he was right! Dr. Kass advised me to get a feeding tube inserted before my treatment began, while I was still strong, since I'd likely be in no shape to have the procedure once treatment was underway. The advice I got from the doctors, nurses and staff at the Cancer Center was so beneficial — throughout every part of this journey.
Just over three weeks later, after a raft of dental procedures I had to have in preparation for treatment and also performing a hastily arranged wedding ceremony, treatment began.
My Cancer Center Team
On Friday, May 1, I had my first chemo treatment. I also started getting to know the members of my team, who would become my "family" over the next couple of months: Kimba, Diane, Debbie, Kristy, Allison, Teresa and Socorro - my oncology nurses. These were the most amazing people I could be surrounded with during such a grueling situation. They all made it bearable and kept me positive day after day. They are all heroes in my book. Dr. Kass had told me that, "chemo affects people differently." My first day went well and I prepared myself for my first radiation treatment the following Monday.
I'm not a claustrophobic person, but getting fitted for my radiation mask certainly pushed my buttons. I had to lie totally still for 45 minutes as the warm, pliable mesh hardened into a perfect fit around my face. This would be the mask that would protect the healthy parts of my head and neck as the cancer was "nuked" with radiation every day, Monday through Friday, for 7 weeks. Once the mask was ready, Dr. Shane Cotter, my Radiation Oncologist, who, amazingly, had also been a patient of mine (is this a small town or what?!) asked if I wanted to go ahead and have my first radiation treatment. "Sure," I said, "what's 45 more minutes in the mask?" Let me tell you, having that mask bolted to the table so you can't move the slightest bit is pretty freaky. But it is amazing what you can get used to. And once again, the radiation nurses were amazing. "Ten more minutes," "five more minutes," "almost done." They were always there. Always talking me through it. Always reassuring. From my first day of treatment to my last.
Thank God They're Close
After my first diagnosis and meeting with Dr. Kass, Aviva asked if I wanted to go to Los Angeles for a second opinion and to look into treatment there. I said no. I just felt so comfortable with the team at the Cancer Center. It became clear I was not one of those people for whom chemo would be a cake walk, I thanked God that I had made that decision and that the Cancer Center was close by. I was constantly sick to my stomach and so weak. Here I am, a physical therapy trainer and the stairs in my apartment felt like Mount Everest!
I cannot imagine having to go through chemo or radiation treatment in another city, and having to travel to get there. I just couldn't have done it. I'll be forever grateful we have this level of care right here in our own back yard.
My Amazing Wife
As I had been warned, very soon after starting radiation treatment, swallowing anything felt like swallowing broken glass. Thank goodness for the feeding tube, and for my wife. Between nausea from the chemo and the inability to swallow, I was losing weight fast. With direction from the Cancer Center's Oncology Nutritionist, Kristin Price, RDN, CSO, Aviva became a wizard with a blender. She blended up kale, broccoli, asparagus — you name it — plus a protein mix, into 900-calorie "nutrition bombs" which I ingested via the feeding tube. Aviva completely rearranged her schedule and her work to take care of me. This was certainly not the beginning of married life that either of us had imagined!
Fighting Cancer
Thirty-five rounds of radiation. Three courses of chemotherapy. Many, many medications. Fighting to maintain weight. Fighting to get out of bed. Fighting, fighting, fighting.
And we won. My cancer is in full remission. And it is such a huge "WE" — the doctors, nurses and staff of the Cancer Center of Santa Barbara were just incredible. Dr. Kass told me before we began that they'd be there every step of the way, but I did not understand then just how much that would mean. And how much I'd need them. They saved my life. Also, thank you to my boss, Dr. Mark Brisby, who held my job for me, visited me and stayed in touch and to Dr. John Ebadi an oriental medicine/acupuncturist and friend who helped tremendously with my gag reflex and getting my appetite back. To my family and friends and to my two stepsons who lost hanging out with me for a few months. And to my wife, Aviva, who went through hell. I'll never be able to thank her enough for all she did for me. But I'll spend the rest of my life trying — starting with saving to take a honeymoon, finally!
After I got the confirmation that my cancer was in full remission, Aviva confessed to me, "Wow, in the middle of all that, you looked like you were 70 years old!" I told her, "That's awesome! I felt like I was 90!" (I'm 52, by the way.)
With my new lease on life, she has also told me that I have become a nicer guy. My kids say so, too. I am more patient now. Less selfish with my time. Once you've had cancer, your whole concept of what constitutes "having a bad day" shifts dramatically. There's so much good out there.
I would not wish what I went through on anyone, but I'm almost glad I went through it. I did not know the sun could be this bright.
Thank you to my team at the Cancer Center!