John and Tina Hammock
An open approach to living with cancer
The Hammocks
My wife, Tina, was diagnosed with glioblastoma, a type of brain cancer, on April 19, 2002, at age 57. She explored many treatment options on her own, but trusted her primary caregivers —her long-time physician, surgeon, radiologist, and oncologist —to shape the best plan. Within one year she had three brain surgeries, many radiation treatments, and several rounds of chemotherapy. She also participated in three clinical trials. Although she consulted with other cancer centers, she stayed with her team at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and Brigham and Women's Hospital, where she received excellent care and honest assessments of her condition. Tina died 13 months after her diagnosis.
From the beginning, she fought her cancer aggressively and decided to share the news of her battle with loved ones. After she sent a brief letter to our family and friends telling them the news, she and I began an ongoing e-mail letter updating them on her condition. This two-way correspondence not only allowed us to tell family and friends what she wanted and needed (or did not want, such as flowers) but also provided a way for her to keep up with others.
E-mail became an important link, offering us feedback, encouragement, and support. The wonderful thing about e-mail during this difficult time was that our friends could read our messages when they were ready to handle the information, and likewise, we could read their messages when it was best for us.
Tina wanted to know what was going on in other people's lives, rather than dwell on her illness. She wanted to know how kids were doing, how jobs were faring, how people were enjoying themselves. She wanted to live as normally as possible. She was not in denial: she faced the truth early on, and spoke frankly about her tumor. But she did not want to spend her time talking about sickness and death. She wanted to talk about life — babies born, trips made, conversations held.
Tina would always say grace at meal times, giving thanks for the day, her family, and those who were present. She also remembered family members not present, and prayed for courage to face the cancer, the treatments, and the unknown; strength to continue to live in the moment, and to enjoy life to its fullest; and peace in coping with the brutal reality of her brain tumor. Often these prayers were long.
Throughout this ordeal, our friends wanted to help. Except for the last two months of her life, the best thing friends could do was to keep doing the things they normally did. There were meetings and brunches with her women's groups and colleagues at the Cambridge Friends School; walks and cups of tea with friends and family; hours of quilting as Tina finished two queen-sized quilts for our daughters; lots of dinners out and short trips; and most of all, talks, and laughs, and just being together.
After a stroke confined Tina to a wheelchair, she insisted that we go ahead with plans for a Passover seder with our friends, and she continued to attend services at our own church. She gave updates on her condition and thanked people for their support. Friends and members of our congregation now say they felt privileged that Tina shared her story with them and made them part of her journey.