“Class, I Have Something Important to Share”

by

Cindy Zamirowski

My heart was in my throat and my mind was shouting, ‘Help her’, as my mother descended the steep steps of the commuter airplane. For some unknown reason I sensed my 80-year old mother was about to fall. Before I could blurt out for help, her right leg crumbled beneath her on the last step and she went down quickly, sitting on the leg and breaking it.

Little did I know that this would be the start of a long cancer journey – spanning two generations.

Mother’s pain was evident and at the time we weren’t sure how severe her injury was. Upon admission to the hospital, we learned that she’d fractured her femur and would need surgery to repair it. What we didn’t know until after the operation was that mom had Lymphoma and it was in her bone marrow. We were distraught to say the least and had she not broken that bone we would have continued in ignorance of the cancer. But this was no blessing in disguise.

What became clear to us after extensive testing was that the cancer had spread to a few of mother’s organs. She was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lymphoma. Because of her age and advanced stage of the cancer, with Alzheimer’s Dementia, and her adamancy against chemotherapy, she opted for radiation treatment to prevent any possible paralysis.

This was such a difficult time for us all. My husband and I traveled every day to be with her while in hospice. My father had died alone and I was determined that my mother would not face her death by herself.

On the morning of her deliverance from all the physical and mental pain she endured, I sang “Amazing Grace” over and over and recited the 23^rd Psalm. I remember her staring at me with unblinking eyes as she drew her last breath and went peacefully into His kingdom.

The sorrow I felt was overwhelming, but somewhere in my core a new strength had developed over the months with mother. I’d dealt with her illness and knew in my heart I’d done the best that I could for her. How was I to know that just a year later, I would be diagnosed with cancer – Breast Cancer?

The day seemed like any other day. My annual bi-lateral diagnostic mammogram was scheduled and I was prepared for the discomfort that came along with it. I’d been under a “watch” for a few years because of many micro calcifications and a suspect mass, which disappeared at the time of a biopsy.

As I sat waiting, I read about DuPage Imaging’s new Digital Mammography machine and how advanced it was. Better resolution and 25% less radiation. I didn’t realize how this new mammography device would undoubtedly save my life.

As it turned out, a small mass less than .5 cm was detected in my right breast. It was smaller than a pea. An ultrasound confirmed the mass, and a biopsy was scheduled.

I remember the day clearly when my physician phoned to give me “the news”. She asked if I was sitting down and I thought it odd at the time, but in retrospect I sensed what was coming. We chatted for a few moments and then she launched the phrase, “I’m sorry, but you have breast cancer.” My mouth gaped in silence as I searched for a suitable response. ‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ and ‘No, that can’t be possible, there’s no family history!’ flickered through my brain.

My heart tumbled and my anxiety grew quickly as I began to imagine the worst, and my memories of my mother’s cancer started me into a tailspin.

Everything shifted to a whirlwind of activity for me. In the less than two weeks before the start of the new school year, I’d had my biopsy, confirmed the malignancy, and met with my surgeon. Surgery was scheduled for August 31^st, a few days after school began.

I’d known my 6^th graders for only a few short days and had to tell them that I had breast cancer. How do you tell 11-year olds that you’ve got cancer and will be out for a few weeks and were uncertain about your future? How were they going to react? How much should I tell them?

Somewhere that strength I’d developed while taking care of Mother emerged and I knew that I needed to be open and honest with my students. I remember standing in the front of my class a few days before my surgery and telling them that I had something important to share with them. It would be difficult, but needed to be shared. Their faces eagerly watched and waited while an uncharacteristic hush fell upon the room.

My new sixth graders were the absolute best medicine I could have ever hoped to have. They listened quietly as I explained my cancer and upcoming surgery. After I’d told them that I would be out for a couple of weeks, the hands began to fly up in the air and questions and connections abounded. My kids barely knew me and yet they showed so much compassion and concern that it blew me away.

I learned that nearly every student in my class had been touched by cancer. Some had lost loved ones to breast cancer and others had a friend or relative dealing with it. My goal was to become an example of hope for them, to show them that cancer doesn’t always have to be a death sentence. So many had that experience and I just wanted to show them there was hope. I wanted to be open and inform them about nearly every step of the way and to quell any fears they may have about the cancer. Silence from me would have been devastating to them and I wanted to allay their fears.

My mission became clear at this point: to get myself healthy again; and to be “the educator” as many of my friends have said; and use all those special moments to promote wellness and cancer awareness, not only for my students, but for women who may be afflicted with this insidious disease.

Fortunately, I learned about CarePages.com through Edward Cancer Center where I was being treated. CarePages provides a place for patients to tell their story and to reach out and help others.

My students and their parents joined “Zamscorner” to follow my progress throughout the year. And many supported me in the “Y-ME Race to Empower” on Mother’s Day in Chicago. We walked and were thoroughly drenched with the downpour, but our spirits were high because we were walking with thousands of other survivors and family members.

In fact, Nesita Kwan, from NBC 5 in Chicago, featured my story on television! It’s still online today.