Donna Lowry has lived with ovarian cancer off and on since 1985. The Chicago native had just moved to Atlanta, gotten married and started a new job at Delta when she was diagnosed. She never expected her life to change so quickly. Eventually, she beat the cancer, or so she thought. Until 13 years later. A second time she vanquished that silent killer, but it came back in 2006. She believes she was given three chances for a reason: her work is not finished. This is her story in her own words.

The first time I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer I was nauseous, vomited all day long and nothing worked. I finally went to the ER where they clocked my white-cell blood count at 17,000. They took me into surgery thinking it was appendicitis and removed five bleeding cysts from my ovaries. Four weeks later the ER doctor told me over the phone it was cancer. I went berserk. My life changed forever that day. I just didn’t know it.

I was referred to Dr. Benedict Benigno, a gynecologic oncologist at Northside Hospital, who told me I had to begin chemotherapy. The first time I met him he spent two hours with me. During my CAT scan, he appeared by my side and was very caring. Back then you checked into the hospital overnight for chemo because the nausea was so severe. I remember checking in weighing 110 and the next day weighing 107. With no hair, a new husband and nausea, my life began to take on a completely different meaning.

After the six treatments, I checked into the hospital for an exploratory. Miraculously, the cancer was gone.

I stayed cancer-free thirteen years--until November, 1999. Persistent abdominal pain put me back into the hospital. Even after an ultrasound, doctors diagnosed diverticulitis. Two weeks of flagel didn’t stop the pain, so I returned to surgery. When I awoke, I asked my husband if the cancer was back, and he nodded yes. The tumor was pressing on my colon, causing the pain. So doctors removed a foot of colon. Six treatments of taxol and carboplatin, and I was back in surgery. The ovarian cancer was still there.

That’s the thing about this cancer: it hangs on and tries to kill you before you can kill it. Nevertheless, about a year later I chose to stop the treatments. I felt I was getting toxic. I had to leave it up to God at that point. That was January, 2001. During this time I worked at Delta everyday; it was my lifeline to normalcy. I stayed cancer-free five more years.

Driving home from Myrtle Beach in June, 2006, with my husband, feeling really good about my life, my cell phone rang. It was Dr. Benigno. (I had asked him to call me right away if anything ever changed.) The cancer was back. I questioned him over and over and asked for a biopsy to be sure.

This time I had five tumors: three in my lower abdomen and two in the upper. There was no pain--nothing. That’s how ovarian cancer works: no symptoms until you’re in stage 3 or 4.

I’m back on chemo once again in hopes of beating this disease. Is that possible? I don’t really know, but without the hope of living cancer-free, I’d have to ask myself what I’m doing here. I’m on two new drugs not yet FDA-approved for ovarian cancer—avastin and abraxane—and my counts are coming down. In fact, my PET scan is clear once again, but I must continue these treatments for now as maintenance.

I feel wonderful and am approaching 2008 as one of healing and hope. I want to believe I’ll be here next year and that I’ll be cancer-free. For how long, no one knows. Cancer patients approach each day as a gift from God. Dr. Benigno calls me his “poster child” because I’ve been through it three times, and I have been with him the longest.

We need a screening test to detect ovarian cancer in the early stage; a CA-125 test just isn’t reliable. I know Dr. Benigno and the Ovarian Cancer Institute [at Georgia Tech], are working on developing such a test. OCI conducts research on frozen tumor tissue that is actually taken during surgery. A screening test would save lives, lives of women like me. We also need to promote funding for an ovarian cancer cure and educate women that a pap smear does not detect ovarian cancer.

Cancer can be an emotional roller coaster. If I’m sick, vomiting, in pain, having diarrhea, I tell myself it’s the drugs, not me; that it’s temporary and will pass. You have to have a sense of well-being because once you go to that dark place, you might stay there. This time it’s been more difficult because I’m older and maybe the chemo shocked my body. My husband says I have resilience. Maybe. I just know your attitude is what counts.

So put a wig on and enjoy life