Surviving breast cancer: The inspirational stories of two women

Think of eight women. Now, think of what life would be like if one of them was diagnosed with breast cancer.

If every female student at the University of Cincinnati was in Fifth Third Arena and every eighth woman was asked to stand, 2,525 would be on their feet.

They would be the ones to battle breast cancer.

Every year approximately 130 in 1,000 Ohio women are diagnosed with breast cancer. Of those women, approximately 30 will die from the disease, according to the Centers for Disease Control. That means approximately 100 of those women will become survivors.

Karen Peppers

Last month, Karen Peppers, the executive assistant to the president of the UC Foundation, celebrated the one-year anniversary of her breast cancer survival. Earlier this month, she turned 54. Next week, she will have her last treatment for breast cancer.

Every year for 15 years, Peppers went to her doctor for a mammogram. There was no family history of breast cancer. No reason to suspect she was in anything except excellent health. Mammograms were just something she knew she was supposed to do.

On Sept. 18, 2008, Peppers was diagnosed with breast cancer.

“Everything happened so quickly,” Peppers said. “When the surgeon tells you this is cancer and he just starts talking, you’re looking over your shoulder like, ‘Who is he talking to? How are you saying these words to me?’ … The first thing that went through my mind was ‘Oh my goodness. I could die from this.’ ”

A diagnostic ultrasound showed two large, identical, side-by-side masses on her left breast. Her doctors diagnosed her with an aggressive stage-two cancer.

Peppers cancer was HER-2 positive, which meant she could skip surgery and begin with chemotherapy. Doctors also have access to a drug, Herceptin, which would help combat the cancer.

“This was good news,” Peppers said. “You’re definition of good news definitely changes.”

With her husband at her side, Peppers began to deliver the news to her loved ones. First on the list was their son Alex Powers, a fifth-year urban planning student in the College of Design, Architecture, Art and Planning.

“He was so supportive with, ‘Mom, you can do this. You’re the strongest person I know and I’ll be with you every step of the way. We will beat this together; it can be done,’ ” Peppers said. Still, she is moved to tears reflecting on her son’s strength.

That day, Peppers and her husband also told their oldest son, Jonathan, who lives in Columbus, and their parents.

Once every three weeks for the next 18 weeks, Peppers went through six hours of chemotherapy.

The treatment was working, but at a cost.

She lost her hair. Had tingling in her fingers and toes; a constant ringing in her ears and blurred vision. Her mouth felt like it would burst into sores. She lost her sense of taste. Her fingernails and toenails turned black. That, she says, wasn’t even the worst part.

“I didn’t care that I lost my hair,” she said. “Guess what? It grew back. But when your body doesn’t’ physically feel the way you know it should, that was very hard for me to deal with.”

She wasn’t just tired, she was exhausted. Prior to treatment, Peppers had an active lifestyle. If a friend asked her to go on a walk, she could go five miles without being winded.

“It’s not like you could take a nap and ‘Oh, I feel better’ type of fatigue,” Peppers said. “It was, ‘I can’t lift my leg. I can’t take another step.’ ”

Through it all, she continued to work at the UC Foundation. During weeks when she had chemotherapy, Peppers would work two days per week instead of five.

Last week, Peppers and her son were part of a Making Strides for Cancer team. She’s getting her active lifestyle back step by step; she completed half of the five-mile course.

After five years without signs of cancer, the risks for its return are much lower. For Peppers, she’s almost at the one-year mark.

“I’m not thinking it will return,” Peppers said. “I won’t let my mind go there … If that day ever comes I’ll deal with it … I will live with cancer, but I will not let cancer control my life.”

Sandra McGlasson

Sandra McGlasson is a die-hard Cincinnati Bearcats fan. She was even a fan before they were 6-0. While the undefeated, No. 5 ranking is great for fans, it’s meant something more to McGlasson. It’s meant hope.

McGlasson, an associate professor in professional practice at UC, has been going through chemotherapy for her stage-one breast cancer (she and her doctors describe it more like stage 1 1/2). In fact, Nov. 4 is her sixth and final chemotherapy treatment.

Her annual mammogram, something she had been “vigilant about for 20 years,” never showed signs of cancer. In April, she had a call back from her doctor. They wanted her to see a breast specialist.

A small tumor and calcification on her left breast led doctors to suggest a mastectomy. After the procedure, they found cancer cells in six of seven lymph nodes. From there, she
began chemotherapy.

In April, McGlasson, 66, was teaching classes, just like she did in Summer quarter and is doing now. Her decision for full disclosure within the classroom, she says, made a world of difference.

“There are days I don’t feel good and I’ve let my students know from the beginning ‘I need your support. We can do this together, but there might be times that I have to cancel class or change things,’ McGlasson said. “It was wonderful to have a job to go back to and have something I love … Having this job and having my students has been therapy for me.”

Once she has her last chemotherapy treatment, radiation might follow, but McGlasson’s doctors have yet to make the decision. For the next eight months, she will also be taking a cancer medication, but the side effects will be minimal.

For that, she’s thankful. From chemotherapy, her sense of taste has been distorted. The food she eats, she says, has a metallic taste. For McGlasson, who loves to eat and love to cook, it’s been hard to deal with. Once treatment is over, her taste buds will begin to go back to normal.

The first thing on her menu: a big, juicy hamburger, with all the fixings. She’s looking forward to Thanksgiving – her congratulations for the last seven months. Her treatment will be finished. She should be able to recognize tastes.

“Please God. Let it taste like Thanksgiving,” she said.

Until then, McGlasson is continuing on the best she can. Some days she’s tired, other days she’s ready to head to class, anxious and enthusiastic. On campus, she’s usually wearing her wig that she calls Tina – she finds it has a striking resemblance to Tina Turner.

If she’s not wearing her wig, there’s a good chance she has a UC hat on. She is, after all,
a fan.

The loss of taste, the hair loss, it’s been unfavorable, but flowers, cards and supportive e-mails from family and friends have made all the difference. A gift from athletics didn’t
hurt either.

“Keep fighting,” reads the autographed football from head football coach Brian Kelly. “We believe.”