Relay

Published as "The New Iowan" in The Chronicle on June 10, 2010. Dates and descriptions are a function of my childhood memory and therefore subject to inaccuracies.

I have not written much over the past few weeks. Being dubbed “The New Iowan” presents a challenge when I am feeling comfortable and assimilated most of the time. How long can I call myself “New?” Each time I consider bringing the column to a close, I meet someone who mentions how much he or she enjoys reading my little adventures and perspectives. Unless everyone is being what I refer to as “Iowa Nice” about my writing, I should keep at it until folks stop mentioning it.

But be forewarned: being less-new in a small town has increased my level of comfort to a point where I feel almost part of the family. And what does a family do? Care for and nag each other. So stick around for some well-intended nagging, but first here is my personal story.

Last Saturday I participated in the Relay for Life for Sac County with The Chronicle Copy Cats team. Thanks to the generosity of family and friends, I was able to raise $230 for the American Cancer Society. As Relay participants and survivors shared their personal experiences with cancer, I reflected on my own.

After the time of my birth and before my nineteenth birthday I lost all four of my grandparents to cancer, beginning with a grandfather I don’t remember who suffered from leukemia. The more difficult losses for me came first when I was 8 years old and my Pa lost a very ugly battle with a rare form of cancer of the blood before his 65th birthday. Five years later I held my Grammy’s hand as she slipped away after a frightening cognitive decline caused by brain cancer. This was also right around her 65th birthday, just like her husband. Later, my paternal grandmother survived a double mastectomy only to die from breast cancer when I was away in my first year of college. A paragraph cannot summarize their countless treatments and numerous side effects.

For Christmas in 2002 my father received prostate cancer. After his surgery I remember his unusual sense of humor as he sang, “I’ll be catheterized for Christmas.” Due to early detection, continued diligence, and a fighting spirit, he has remained cancer-free for over seven years. More recently, my mother and I have both had forms of skin cancer surgically removed from our faces. Last Monday morning, I began my week nervously with a follow-up visit to the dermatologist and left his office without getting any stitches for the first time.

Though I feel a secret pang of jealousy whenever adults talk about their living grandparents, I realize my experiences with cancer have been minimal and superficial compared to the heartache and battles some of you may be facing in your own families. So as promised, here is some authentic nagging that I hope you will take to heart: Put on the sunscreen and hat. Put down the cigarette. Schedule that overdue pap test, colonoscopy, or mammogram. None of that is fun, but it all beats the devastating family stories shared at the Relay for Life last weekend.

Copyright Rachel Burns 2010