Erika Kratzer Blacksburg, VA Diagnosed at 22 Survivor Since 2000

The long days and stressful lifestyle of a graduate student made it easy for me to explain away my symptoms for months, but deep down I knew something more was wrong. I saw a physician at the school health center and she downplayed my symptoms of cyclical diarrhea and constipation and bloody stools (exactly what I wanted to hear!) and tested me for parasites like Giardia. When nothing turned up, I was referred to a gastroenterologist and my appointment was scheduled for over a month later. By the time I saw the gastroenterologist, I was extremely fatigued, losing weight, had abdominal pain, and lots of blood in my stool. In hindsight, I was feeling a lot more ill than I admitted to myself and others. About 3 weeks before I was diagnosed I was on a weekend field trip for one of my classes to Sapelo Island, GA. While my friends and classmates partied around a bonfire on the beach, I slept on a towel- sick and tired.

At my consult with the gastroenterologist, I unknowingly described to him almost every symptom of colon cancer, yet no ‘red flashing lights’ went off for him. He told me he could not be sure what was wrong until he saw my colon. At age 22, cancer did not seem like a possibility.

I had a colonoscopy on November 14, 2000. My tumor was so large the scope would not fit past it. After the procedure, my boyfriend Andrew (now husband) and I were talking in the recovery area about where we were going to go for lunch that day when the doctor came in to tell me the bad news. I can remember the way he put his hand on my shin to tell me “it’s cancer.” The room spun, I looked to Andrew for some sort of sign that I was hallucinating, and my mind raced.

The next 24 hours were agonizing. I stayed admitted to the hospital as they prepped me for my colon surgery the next day. In that time, I had to call my parents who lived over 700 miles away and some close friends to help contact professors and others who needed to know. I was in disbelief. Did the doctor make a mistake? How serious is this? Will I be able to return to school? Am I going to have chemo? Will I wake up with an ostomy? What are others going to think? That night all of these questions raced through my head as I stared at my unblemished belly, about to be scarred, for the last time.

My mom and dad arrived at the hospital minutes before I was taken to surgery. I had never been more scared in my life. Unfortunately, it was all about to get worse as I was soon diagnosed with advanced colon cancer with metastases to the liver.

The next week was a painful recovery, but I was surrounded by great friends who filled my room with flowers, laughter, music, and more. Their support helped me through those horrible days and many more thereafter.

With a diagnosis of advanced disease, my oncologist suggested to my family that I next be treated at a comprehensive cancer center, preferably as close to my parents as possible. I soon had an appointment at Fox Chase Cancer Center in Philadelphia. Over the next year I had 2 liver surgeries and several months of chemotherapy (both targeted and systemic). I left school for a semester, returning for the following fall. In that time, Andrew and I got engaged and planned our wedding.  We were married in December 2001. I finished my master’s degree the next year. At about that time I started to feel very lonely. I thought life would return to what it had been before cancer once I was declared to have no evidence of disease, but I was surprised how difficult it was to heal and move forward. Despite having wonderful family and friends to support me, it wasn’t the same as sharing my feelings and struggles with someone who had been through a similar ordeal. Eventually I met Molly McMaster, another colon cancer survivor diagnosed in her early twenties, and it changed my life. She showed me that although our lives may have taken an unexpected turn when we were diagnosed with cancer, we can move on and live full lives. Sharing the triumphs and struggles of a post-cancer life with Molly and others has helped me immensely.

In the almost 7 years since I began my cancer journey I’ve traveled many segments, all varied and unique, and many unexpected.  I have purposefully let go of aspects of my cancer past. Indeed, in that release I move forward, carrying my identity as a long-term stage IV colon cancer survivor into my thirties. I continually wrestle with fear and have to balance the risk of losing tomorrow with the likelihood of living into old age. Aside from my scars, the physicality of the cancer fades from my memory year by year. Yet, I think about cancer every day, the thoughts come into my head like a familiar, but perhaps not favorite, song. And as I turn 30 at the end of 2007, I reflect back bitterly that I didn’t have the ‘carefree 20s’ many of my friends enjoyed, but I rejoice that I am on the cusp of a new, fresh phase of life that I risked not having at all.

***See Erika's photo in the 2005 Colondar.***