Lois Adelman

March 31, 2003 is a day I will NEVER, EVER forget! I stood outside smoking cigarette after cigarette, possibly because I knew that would most likely be the last cigarette (if I had a brain in my head) that I would ever smoke. About 30 minutes later I dragged myself and my suitcase into New York Presbyterian Hospital to begin Induction — what was to be a 30-day stay that was the start of my treatment for 

I “checked in” and began to decorate my room — if I had to be there for a month I was going to at least try to make it comfortable. Pillow, PJs (really sweatpants but let me advise you that they are SOOO much better than those gowns!) my own soap, moisturizer, toothpaste – anything that reminded me of home.

And then the games began…endless processions of doctors and nurses getting me “prepped”: Blood pressure, oxygen, temperature, weight (ugh). Then I took a deep breath as the first drip started. The games were over and I was TERRIFIED! Every time something else went into me — and it was a lot – or I had to swallow another pill I asked, “What is that?”, “What is this for?” and “What am I going to feel?”.  And that was just the first day …only 29 more to go.

I got through the first day of endless drips and pills and pokes and … I was OK. I found my own magical thinking … like on Monday when I got this drip, I didn’t wash my face and I didn’t feel sick so when I get that drip again I made a mental note: “Don’t wash face!” OK, but what I mean is you find little things that help you get through it and you get through it. I asked my doctor if I was crazy and she said, “If that got you through this as well as you got through it then I want to be crazy like you.”

And I got through the next 17 days until my doctor came in and said, “I need this bed for someone sick — you’re going home tomorrow.” OK— I’m an overachiever.

Then the REALLY scary part came. All of a sudden, I’m sent out “THERE” into the world with people and germs everywhere. I had just spent three weeks getting my immune system totally knocked out of me and then they send me home with a bunch of antibiotics, anti-virals, anti-world pills and a mask. Terrified of everyone and everything. I went through these hospital stays for a week every month for the next eight months. Each time it was the same routine… pills, mask, home. And I was scared. My very wise doctor said, “I did not put you through all this for you to put yourself in a bubble — go live your life.”  And I have… for 16 years and counting.

So for all of you starting this journey or finishing it, do what makes you comfortable, find your magical thoughts and LIVE!

Articles

After treatment, this survivor was terrified of everyone and everything until her very wise doctor said, “I did not put you through all this for you to put yourself in a bubble – go live your life.”  And she has… for 16 years and counting.

Burst Your Bubble

When you are first told that you’re sick, very sick, it’s like a kick in the head. It leaves you stunned and not quite sure which way to turn. If you’re as lucky as I was, you have Sandy Allen-Bard, NP, to turn to.

My doctor told me about Sandy — how wonderful she was, how I would … I don’t remember, because at the time, it all went in one ear and out the other. The only thing I somehow managed to retain was that I had leukemia and would need to start chemotherapy rather quickly.

So, who this Sandy Allen-Bard was, I will now shamefully admit, fell on somewhat deaf ears. My first actual meeting with her was when I was in the hospital, attached to a drip of … something. We spoke for a while and then she left. I remember thinking, “Gee, she’s like a real person.” Understand that when you are going through this ordeal, people whisk in and out of your room (and your life) asking questions that you have answered a million times, checking your body for numbers, hooking and unhooking you, poking, prodding, whispering. They come, they go.

But Sandy was there, really there. She sat and talked with me. She asked me something, waited for an answer and then actually waited some more, just in case I had a question. Wow! She just gets it; she realizes that attached to every medical device is a human being who is dealing with so much.

From left: Sandy Allen-Bard, NP, and Lois Adelman. Photos by Bob Rives

Yes, medicine can “cure,” and no one knows this better than Sandy. I can’t tell you the number of times I was on the edge of an emotional breakdown, thinking I was finished, when Sandy would tweak my dosages and — bingo! &mdash; I lived. But anyone who has been really ill knows it takes a lot more than that to “heal” and that it’s not easy. Sandy understands this. No matter how her day has been, how many hours long or how stressful, she is there to listen.

Her day and devotion don’t end in the hospital. She has run support groups where people come together, form friendships and comfort each other. Frequently, she travels around the country, giving lectures and trying to expand knowledge and push for more research. Years ago, I egged her on to run a marathon with Team in Training, the endurance training and fundraising arm of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS). Of course, she did it. Not only has she run marathons all over the world, raising hundreds of thousands of dollars for LLS and research, she is now a Team in Training head coach and trains others to run while raising money for research. In addition to winning several “high fundraiser” awards at the state and national levels, she received the Robert de Villiers Spiral of Life Award in 2018. This honor is given by the family that founded the foundation now known as LLS in memory of their son, Robert, who died at the age of 16 in 1944. This award is given yearly to one person who has exhibited tireless efforts to improve the lives of patients with cancer. There is no better way to describe Sandy Allen-Bard: This has been and continues to be her mission.

It is now almost 15 years since Sandy first walked into my hospital room, and I can honestly say I was lucky enough to have the greatest nurse practitioner. I can also say I am just as lucky to have found a great friend for life.

Lois Adelman

Burst Your Bubble

A Great Nurse and Friend

Latest News