Gabriele Mayer is a generally healthy person who shies away from eating foods with more than four ingredients, rides her bicycle to get around town and feels off if she can’t get in a good walk every day.
So last year, when the then 52-year-old longtime Mesa State College professor started to feel pain in her hardening abdomen and noticed her belly beginning to distend, she decided to see a doctor despite thoughts that she probably had fibroids, fairly ubiquitous non-cancerous tumors that can line a woman’s uterus.
More than six months after that first doctor’s visit, it’s no small feat that Mayer, who was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and battled six rounds of chemotherapy “that dropped me to my knees,” now sits cheerfully on the porch of her Grand Junction home to reflect on a disease that could have handily swiped her life. Instead, with early detection, a fighting spirit and the love and support of her husband, Kyle, family, friends and medical providers who rallied around the feisty woman only now growing back a head of wispy blond hair, Mayer feels she is back among the living.
“I have no idea why I was struck,” said Mayer, whose family tree has no history of ovarian cancer, a disease often dubbed, “the silent killer.”
Today, though Mayer, hopes more light will be shed on her battle with the “C-Monster” — her term for chemotherapy responsible for the three Ps “pain, puke and poop.”
September is national Ovarian Cancer Month and a march in Denver today that ends on the Capitol’s west steps will feature speakers such as Gov. Bill Ritter to draw attention to the disease that, more often than not, goes undetected in women.
Also, tonight at 7 o’clock, television’s three major networks will air a star-studded hourlong commercial-free segment devoted to entertainment, education and fundraising for all forms of cancer.
What scares Mayer even more than slaying the nasty disease is that its symptoms can often be mistaken for menopause, aging or even having a bad period. Symptoms include shortness of breath, unexplained weight loss or gain, unusual fatigue, abnormal bleeding, nausea, indigestion, frequent urination and abdominal bloating.
In Mayer’s home country of Germany, yearly physicals include sonograms to check for the disease, but the practice isn’t required in the U.S. The Pap smear, a test which American women routinely get, detects cervical cancer, not ovarian cancer.
However, like other forms of cancer, early detection of ovarian cancer can improve the chances of a person’s survival rate to more than 90 percent, according to the Ovarian Cancer National Alliance.
These days, Mayer is back at the helm of her life. She’s a steady fixture at the college teaching German language classes and English composition, and will resume plans to travel to both Germany and Japan, something she put on hold last year after being diagnosed.
These days, Mayer won’t been seen without her teal-colored ribbon pin or her sun-catching, silver cancer survivor bracelet. While she’s collected a basketful of hats to complement any outfit, Mayer also uses her lack of hair as a platform to talk about her struggle. It would all be worth it, she said, if it prompts one other women to seek medical attention.
“First of all you have to know your body, be in tune, recognize when something is wrong. You have to see a doctor,” Mayer said. “So many people wait and wait. I think it’s high time to raise awareness about this.”
One in 69 women will develop ovarian cancer.
It is the fifth leading cause of cancer death among American women.
About 20,000 American women are diagnosed each year.
About 15,000 American women died from the disease in 2007.
All women are at risk, 90-percent of women diagnosed do not have a family history of the disease.
Source: National Ovarian Cancer Alliance; call 202-331-1332 or www.ovariancancer.org.
Women’s Cancer Awareness Group in Colorado, call 303-985-8454.