Carol Pratt will tell you that these are three of the things that saved her life.
Pratt’s battle with Ovarian cancer (The Silent Killer) began in March of 2018. She says the diagnosis was completely shocking and unexpected.
“I kept getting a twitch under my left ribs that didn’t feel right, but it was my only symptom,” said Carol. “When it didn’t improve after two months, I made an appointment with my doctor.”
Her doctor ordered a PET scan and more than a week later Carol was still waiting to hear the results. Instead of a phone call, Carol was finally told to come into the office for the results.
“That was the day I found out I had Ovarian cancer,” said Carol. “I was sent to a specialist who told me what was coming. The doctor also told me to approach the cancer with a positive attitude. It was a lot to take in, but my husband, Ronnie, was there with me.”
Carol was immediately scheduled for a two-hour laparoscopic surgery. She was also given a tour of the chemo room where the tops of cabinets were lined with wigs and told that her hair would fall out three weeks after her first chemo session.
“That was when I lost it and cried like a baby,” Carol said. “There were chemo patients there sitting in recliners and hooked to IVs. They were staring at me, and I’m sure, reliving the start of their journeys.”
When Carol was admitted to the hospital for her laparoscopy, she told her sons not to come since it was supposed to be a two-hour surgery. Five hours later, Carol awoke to find she was on a morphine drip and in incredible pain.
“My husband, Ronnie, told me they were unable to perform the laparoscopy. Instead, the surgeons had removed a softball-sized tumor,” said Carol.
She spent a week in the hospital with her husband by her side. Three days later, Carol had her first chemo treatment.
“I remember stepping into the chemo lab and seeing a rough-looking woman there begging for some Hydrocodone for the pain. She was ex-military and I had never heard a woman swear like she did,” said Carol. “I was already scared to death and this didn’t help. All the other patients receiving chemo that day just snickered.”
Every Monday for the next six months Ronnie and Carol were at Turkey Creek by eight in the morning for her chemo. “Ronnie would drop me off, go to work while I underwent treatment, then come back and get me. I was never hungry after the treatments, but Ronnie would always want to make me feel better and would take me some place nice to eat. This was important since I am a type 1 diabetic and needed to eat.”
Carol can tell some heart-rending stories of life as a chemo patient. Stories like how chemo sessions always started with lab work to see if she could tolerate the toxins about to be introduced to her body. How after a few weeks of chemo the doctor suggested Carol have a port inserted in her upper chest so she wouldn’t have to get an IV every time she had chemo. Carol recounts how she was required to have a monthly pelvic exam.
“After getting hooked up to your IV the Oncology Nurse would tell whoever’s turn it was in the rotation “it’s your lucky day” and everyone else would giggle and be glad it wasn’t their day. This became a running joke and it was named “inspection under the hood” as we liked to call it. I decided one day to count how many inspections under the hood that I had received and came up with a total of twenty-two by the time I was all done on my journey. Now I don’t let any of my friends get by with saying “oh heck “ I’ve got to go to my OB for a female physical. No complaining is allowed.”
Along the way Carol endured numerous drug trials and found out that the chemo was affecting her retinas.
And then there were those stories that were life-affirming. The nurses who did everything they could to keep their patients comfortable during treatments. The other patients Carol met who were also undergoing chemo.
“We all talked, laughed, and cried together. Everyone shared their personal journey and no two were the same. Humor was good medicine for all of us.”
But this story has a happy next chapter. After six months and eighteen chemo treatments, Carol says she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. She came home to find her good friend Lesia and her daughter-in-law Allison had decorated the garage doors to say “congratulations” and had balloons taped everywhere. Carol was surprised and says she felt so loved.
She was told early on that if she could reach the five-year mark after her diagnosis her chances of surviving the cancer were good. She reached that mark in June of 2023.
Carol credits God, her friends, family, and church community with her recovery.
She says her faith grew stronger and stronger in God. That her church family became more precious to her than they will ever know and that church was where she received her strength. Her favorite song became Thank you God for your blessings on me.
“When I first started this journey, people all over the country would tell me prayers for me were requested at their church. I can’t describe the overwhelming feeling that gave me. I would run into people who were also fighting their own battle with cancer and they would tell me that they prayed for me daily; especially here at home in Union County.”
She says her husband, Ronnie was her rock.
“Ronnie was there for me every step of the way. He stayed with me in the hospital, took care of me when I couldn’t keep anything down, and cleaned me up when I couldn’t stop vomiting. I don’t know how I would have survived without him. His love for me is love in its purest form.”
Carol says no one needs to tell her how blessed she is. Part of the hurt she suffered was when she found out that women who had become her friends during chemo had lost their battle with cancer.
“I’ve met some incredibly strong women on this journey, but what has come out of it is that I’m a stronger Christian. My faith in God is definitely stronger and I no longer put things off like I use to. I am a blessed person and I don’t take that for granted. God blessed us with four grandchildren through this journey and they were definitely worth fighting the battle of cancer for.”
I am proud to say I no longer take any chemo after a five-year journey. I have one last visit to my new OB Oncologist in six months to end this journey. GOD is GOOD!