We speak openly

In 2013 I was diagnosed with lung cancer. Up until that time I was perfectly healthy. In the family, they always said, “such a strong kid, Joanna”.  Suddenly, the “emperor of diseases”, as we call him, “visited” me. Fortunately, that’s how I treated him, like an emperor. Quite a shock. But nothing comes all by itself. We are always involved in the positive or negative course of our health, even if unwittingly.

That’s the reason why I’m going to share my story with you. Some mistakes I made. Some characteristics to recognize the disease. Of course, every person is different, I am just quoting my own experience. If you find similarities, an x-ray, or a CT scan that I was very late to do, will indeed be important.

First mistake, for some time before the diagnosis, for a few years, I lived under a lot of pressure and a lot of stress from various serious problems. As a person of “great stamina”, I had forgotten that I had to “hit the brakes”.

Mistake number two, having already smoked “half of the town of Agrinio” in my life, as the saying goes, I continued at the same pace. I was exercising a lot, there was however a mild, constant cough, a chest burning sensation. But since I was not doing any other abuse, no drinking, no staying up late, I didn’t believe that cigarette by itself could harm me. What naivety, what arrogance!  I had already been a smoker for some thirty years.

Mistake number three. At the doctor’s and mom’s requests for an x-ray, I would change the conversation and disappear. I was well aware that a smoker must have some check-ups every year, but I thoroughly avoided it because I was simply afraid. I was a child of chronic smokers. Mom and dad together must have smoked for “over a century”, but they occasionally did some x-rays. Neither of them got cancer. Maybe they were just lucky, or maybe the better atmosphere and nutrition their generation had for a few years contributed.

Oh, speaking of nutrition, here’s mistake number four. I never really liked salads and fruit. I ate a few of course, but just as much. I also didn’t have any particular affinity for nature. A few holidays for swimming. That’s all. I liked the city a lot, maybe because I grew up downtown, in the traffic and the fumes.

Fifth mistake. Without having had that x-ray that would have saved me a load of trouble, I was walking around coughing, with back-to-back viruses and slight fever. I felt exhausted and took a vapor cigarette, which, however, I smoked incessantly. And the highlight came. We left for a trip to London. For a conference of my husband. I had slight fever, but not a thought of missing the trip. I was strolling around all day in the cold and going to favourite theatre performances. The cold weather of London increased my fever and cough and “gifted” me with pneumonia.

It was a gift indeed, as it was then that I was obliged to have an x-ray, on my way back to Athens. I was hospitalized for 15 days, as the fluid would not subside. An excellent pulmonologist doctor suspected something was wrong. Something that didn’t show up on the CT scan. She did a biopsy. Upon my return home, the results arrived, and this is where the fight for survival begins.

Not heroism, but survival, because, in fact, it’s a one-way street. But this is where the mistakes stop.

I start doing the right thing. Which I want to share with you. With all of you in recovery.

To tell you the truth, the first right thing was done by my brother, who recommended a friend of his, an oncologist. This doctor rightly gained my trust immediately and so I let her lead me. I didn’t open the computer, I didn’t even find out what stage three they told me meant. I just did the second right. And that was full cooperation and obedience to the doctors I trusted. To science. I had to have surgery and I had the surgery. I woke up alive! I thanked God and felt the supreme humility of a person who goes to the point of simply claiming an extension of their life. On the second day after surgery, I took some cosmetics from my bag and put some makeup on my pale face, changed my clothes and despite the great pain, dressed and made up, I walked those painful 20 meters to the hallway. My soul was sweetened, everything around me seemed fresh and beautiful. The colours brightly vibrant, the people around me beautiful. Despite my pain.

That was the third right. I wanted to belong here, to life that is so beautiful even in the midst of disease. A desire that overflowed and flooded my whole being. Even more difficult days followed. A second surgery, because the internal sutures broke, causing a lot of pain. The preventative chemotherapies that drove me into nothingness, weakness, vomiting. I never felt exhausted.

I knew it had to be done. I became a beast of patience. The chronic enemy, the cigarette, was no longer there and the body was stronger, even my skin was glowing, clear.  Later, when I had immunotherapies for some glands that tried to have a Ca party, I thanked God that a drug was found that was not painful, nor destructive. I was walking every day, eating healthy and did what the doctors told me to do to bring the body back from suffering.

After all, cancer is a disease and every year it is getting better and better treated.

Once it was all over and I was doing well, according to science, I had to go back to normal life. Throughout treatment, few people knew what I had. Not out of secretiveness. I just needed my powers just for myself. When I was finally well, I said it openly, because I believe we need to talk, we need to discuss, we need to share.

We are humans, and as humans, we are vulnerable but also strong.

Going back to my own daily life, I tried again to do some right and fair things for myself. Even though the problems were still there (disabled mother etc.) and needed my presence and support, I was giving myself with the same consistency but without the previous stress. I decided that I didn’t want to live in fear and returned fully to the work I love so much. That was crucial. Some people told me not to share my adventure with my professional community, because who knows…. I wasn’t afraid. I spoke up. From the people in the theatre, I experienced their solidarity, trust, and love. This is the Greek theatre and not the distorted image created by a few. I played many important roles after the disease, I travelled, I enjoyed every moment and I feel as if all that is far away. Of course, monitoring is vigilant because “emperor” it is, and you never know! I want to thank these great people and scientists who stood by me, by name.

My oncologist, Eleni Chatzichristou whom I am grateful to because from the very beginning she made the right decisions in every step, my oncologist Aristea Molfeta, who I met later and who also monitors and examines me, the pneumologist Kafe Eleni, the pneumologist Lia Gizopoulou, who still follows me today, the oncologist Dimitris Bafaloukos and his team and the surgeon, Matthaios Douzinas, who is no longer with us. Finally, I would like to thank my brother, orthodontist Kostas Gavakos and my beloved husband Alec Mally, who have stood by me throughout this journey.

6/4/2021