It’s the female cancer few will talk about, as
if talking about it will make it more deadly – or contagious – or
all of the above (and neither is true).
Ovarian cancer.
And it’s the cancer that Pocketbook Monologues
creator and St. Louis native Sharon K. McGhee is in her third fight
against in the last two-and-a-half years.
The word
“title”>”pocketbook”
by our most senior and seasoned African-American sisters pertaining
to those most discreet subjects of a sexual nature.
“And there are some rules that went with it –
keep it closed, don’t people ramble all in it—make sure your
pocketbook is clean.” McGhee said.
McGhee created the Pocketbook Monologues to
talk to black women and girls about taking responsibility for their
own sexual health, following the design of Vagina Monologues author
Eve Ensler. Soldout performances in Chicago where McGhee currently
resides preceded her most challenging role yet.
“It also started a new chapter in my life — I
was diagnosed [in 2009] with stage 4 ovarian cancer, three weeks
fbeore I got the phone call to be a part of the Housewives of
Atlanta franchise,” McGhee said. Her decision – chemotherapy the
next week or jump on the creative opportunity of a lifetime to deal
with a cause she is so passionate about – the HIV epidemic in black
women.
“So what’s a girl to do? I tell you what I
did. I put my wigs in a suitcase and my Vicodin in my overnight bag
and we went down to Atlanta and filmed a wonderful show,” she said.
“But what people don’t know, while it all looked great on
television, it was the roughest time for me, because in another
three weeks, I had another chemotherapy treatment.”
There are three types of ovarian cancer,
depending on what type of tissue is involved.
Epithelial cells cover the ovaries, the two egg-shaped organs on
either side of a woman’s reproductive system. Germ cells create the
eggs inside of the ovaries. Stromal cells are the tissue which
holds the ovaries together and makes most of the female hormones,
estrogen and progesterone.
The American Cancer Society (ACS) says higher
risk factors for the most common type of ovarian cancer
(epithelial) include:
- Age- half of all these cancers are in women
over age 63
- Obesity- an ACS study found a higher
incidence and a higher death rate among obese women
- Fertility drugs
- Male hormones, or androgens
- Estrogen therapy after menopause
- Family history of ovarian, breast or
colorectal cancer
McGhee said it almost felt like she was
getting her blessing in the middle of her hurricane.
“God was showing me this balance of my life
and what it is to actually live with a cancer diagnosis, deal with
everything that goes with it – the surgery, the depression … to
understand this diagnosis happens to a lot of people and that you
can find your will through God and through perseverance to live and
thrive with it,” McGhee said. “I never wanted the cancer to have
me.”
Ovarian cancer usually strikes women after
menopause, but it can occur at any age. Early detection of ovarian
cancer is difficult, because oftentimes, women with ovarian cancer
have no symptoms or just mild symptoms until the disease is in an
advanced stage and hard to treat.
“The day that I was diagnosed with cancer, my
mom died of a debilitating stroke. She had been sick for almost a
year-and-a-half,” McGhee said. “I would leave Chicago on Friday, go
to St. Louis, take care of my mom.
“So when people would say, ‘Wow, it looks like
you are losing weight,’ I would say, I’m stressed out because my
mom is dying. I’m tired – my mom is dying,” she summed up.
“Every symptom that I had that told me loud
and clear that my body was in need of care, I masked under the
influence of ‘My Mom Needs Me,’” she said.
“I had every symptom of ovarian cancer known –
the bloating, the heavy bleeding; the weight loss – but we now know
that a pap smear will not diagnose ovarian cancer.”
After her radical hysterectomy to remove a
cancerous tumor the size of a grapefruit, McGhee said she left
Chicago to attend her mother’s funeral in St. Louis, and returned
back to Chicago for chemo.
The cancer returned a year later, in 2010, and
McGhee completed her scheduled appearances before more surgery and
chemo.
“I call it The Curious Case of Cancer,” McGhee
described. “I started to think of chemo like a carwash. You can get
the $5 wash, the $6 wash, the $7 wash, right? But if you pay for
the $7 wash, they got this extra blaster on the side. But when you
come out, there’s still going to be some little particles of dirt
and dust around. And that’s what I think of chemo inside of my
body. Like we are washing to get all of these bad cells out, but we
might not get all of them. And that’s where I am right now — they
didn’t get all of them.”
Her father, best friend and family in St.
Louis and involvement in support groups are providing strong
emotional support through now her third bout, which occurred six
months ago.
McGhee’s experiences incited a new voice,
another monologue – this time about the commonalities among
everyone who has a form of “The Big C.”
“After your initial diagnosis, there are some
universal themes that we all share: depression is depression; chemo
is chemo; having your body cut and then body parts removed … I had
to find some sort of way to make this work for me,” McGhee
said.
One way is point out the cultural differences
in dealing with chemo.
“I loved my curly mane, but I don’t remember
anyone mentioning you would lose hair there too. I am not
missing the hair on my head – I am missing the hair on my
pocketbook, and that’s a big thing for women,” McGhee said.
“And I notice when I go for chemo that most of
the black women wear wigs and most of the white women are
bald.”
And after talking about it at the Missouri
Black Expo in August in St. Louis, McGhee said when the Cancer
Monologues rolls out this Fall, it will include her presentation
and Q & A between a doctor and the audience.
“When women and when men leave, they leave
knowing more than when they came,” McGhee explained.
“I think telling the truth, finally, through my grace is what I
should be doing now – telling my truth.
“Our body speaks to us loud and clear. We are
not listening.”
For more information, visit the American
Cancer Society at cancer.org or the National Ovarian Cancer
Coalition at www.ovarian.org.
