Via - Cosmopolitan.
Brandon and Theresa Lepow, an athletic, attractive couple based in
Washington, D.C., were putting the finishing touches on their wedding
plans in September 2013 when the unimaginable happened. After weeks of
mysterious pains in his back and chest, Brandon, a policy communications
manager at Facebook, was told he had T-cell acute lymphoblastic
leukemia, or ALL, a rare, life-threatening cancer.
In an instant, the couple's lives transformed. Brandon needed
immediate treatment and, within days of his diagnosis, moved with
Theresa to Houston, his hometown, to begin chemotherapy at the
world-renowned MD Anderson Cancer Center. This month, Brandon will
finish his 10th and final round of chemo. He and Theresa, both 30,
shared their story with Cosmopolitan.com.
Theresa:
I met Brandon in July 2010 at a party in Washington, D.C. I lived in
Seattle, and I was in town for work. My friend who lives there invited
me to a party. It sounded random and fun, so I went.
Brandon:
I was working at the White House at the time, on the president's
advance team — I traveled ahead of wherever the president was going to
work on media logistics in that city. One of my coworkers was having a
birthday party at this place called the Russia House in Dupont Circle.
Theresa's friend was dating my friend, and they introduced us. I thought
Theresa was stunning. She has these beautiful eyes and little freckles
on her lips. We ended up talking until two or three in the morning.
T:
I always tell people that I knew I was going to marry Brandon the night
I met him. I did a weird thing: At the end of the night, I told him I
loved him. The next morning, I woke up mortified. We ended up going to
brunch with our friends, and I was so embarrassed. But it was great. We
spent the day together, and I extended my trip in D.C. I had had a great
job as the business development manager at Logic 20/20, a business and
technology consulting firm, and was also in business school at Seattle
University. But five months later, I quit my job, quit business school,
and moved across the country to live with Brandon. We've been together
ever since.
B: After dating for about two years I
started shopping for an engagement ring and decided to propose in
December 2012, after the presidential election.
T:
I actually wanted a small wedding in Paris — somewhere beautiful where
we could be with the close friends who supported our relationship from
day one. But Brandon wanted to invite the whole town! We finally decided
to have our wedding in April 2014 on a vineyard outside of Austin.
Brandon and Theresa about a month after they met.
B:
But in the beginning of August 2013, I began having strange symptoms. I
hadn't had a bad doctor's exam in my life. I went to regular checkups,
worked out —
T: Brandon is humble about how
healthy he is. When I met him, he pretty much was a vegetarian, drank a
gallon of water a day, and ran, lifted weights, and played basketball
four or five times a week.
B: The first sign
something was wrong happened when Theresa and I went for a run together
before work one day. On the way back to our place, I had a really sharp
pain in my chest and had to stop. That happened on a few different
occasions. I went to the doctor, who thought I bruised a rib in
basketball. He told me to take anti-inflammatories. I did, and I felt
better. But then, in late September, I went for a run and got unusually
winded. A few nights later, I couldn't sleep I was in so much pain.
T: I woke up and he was hunched over.
B:
I went to the doctor the next day, and they took an X-ray of my chest,
thinking I might have cracked a rib. Afterward, I was walking back to
the car, talking to Theresa on the phone, and there was a buzz on the
other line. It was the doctor's office telling me to come back for a CT
scan to check for a blood clot. I did, and after about 40 minutes of
waiting, the radiologist came out and said, "You need to go back to your
primary doctor right now." When I got there, he avoided making eye
contact until finally he said, "I have good news and bad news. The good
news is, you don't have a blood clot. The bad news is that we found a
mass in your chest the size of a grapefruit, and I'm pretty sure it's
lymphoma." I told him to stop right there, that I probably wouldn't be
able to take in anything else he said, and that I wanted Theresa there. I
stood to call her and fell down shortly after. I thought I was going to
throw up.
T: I'd never heard him sound so scared. The words "You have cancer" really upset him.
B:
Even now, I have trouble saying it. I also didn't want to drop the word
on my family until I knew exactly what was going on. My mom and I are
really close — we talk every day. After we left the doctor that day, I
broke down. I said to Theresa, "I don't know how I'm going to tell her."
I knew that if I said anything else, my mom would want to be there, but
there was nothing, in my mind, that she could've done, because we were
just waiting for tests to come back. When I finally talked to her after
that doctor's appointment, I told her we still didn't know what was
going on and was careful not to use the word "cancer."
T:
But later that day, I went for a run to clear my mind, and it was like
something just took over my body — I had to talk to my mom. So I called
her, and I started bawling. She flew to D.C. that night and stayed for
the next few days.
B: After that, they put me through tons of tests. I needed a biopsy first.
Brandon and Theresa in New York in December 2012.
T:
To do that, they had to put a long needle into his chest to extract
part of the tumor so they could determine what kind of cancer he had.
Afterward they drained a liter and a half of fluid that the mass had
accumulated around his lungs, which was making it hard for him to
breathe. The procedure took a lot out of him. The next day, I came back
from the grocery store to find Brandon sleeping. But when he woke up, he
started having severe pain to the point where he could barely breathe. I
called 911, and while we were waiting for the paramedics, Brandon got
down on his knees. His face turned white, and his lips turned blue. I
kept saying, "Open your eyes, Brandon! Breathe!" I thought he was going
to die. We spent eight hours in the hospital that night.
B: A few days later we learned I had T-cell acute
lymphoblastic leukemia, or ALL, a rare type that tends to occur more in
kids. I'd told my doctor before we found out that if they found
something serious, I wanted to be treated at MD Anderson, near where I
grew up. When my doctor sat us down and asked, "How soon can you get to
Houston?" we knew it was serious.
T: Brandon's
type of cancer moves fast and goes to the brain. His doctor guessed that
his tumor was relatively new, so we couldn't wait another day. We
called Brandon's older brother, who booked our flights. Then we went
home, packed like we robbed a bank, and were in Houston by 8 p.m.
B:
That night, at my mom and stepdad's, I finally told my mom what was
going on. My mom understood why I hadn't told her. She knew we didn't
know what was going on until the tests came back and that the last thing
I wanted to do was speculate and cause people to worry. She was upset,
of course — I could always feel how worried she was by the look on her
face — but she never really let me see her cry. She's been incredibly
strong through this.
T: We slept in Brandon's
childhood bedroom. It was such a whirlwind, getting there, but once we
were there, it felt right — like we were in the right place to be, to be
going through all of this. The next day we went to MD Anderson.
B:
That night, I was admitted, and they put in my PICC line, which would
deliver my chemo for the next eight months. I was anxious. I just wanted
to do whatever I could to make whatever was happening inside of me stop
and prevent it from coming back. The first week after I found out, I
barely ate. I was worried that anything I put in my body would feed the
cancer. The doctors told me to drink a lot of water, so I drank water
all day.
T: We were so busy those first few days,
fielding calls from friends, and checking in and out. Brandon's friends
would call me because they didn't want to bother him. I was also
looking for apartments with his mom.
B: She found
one, and we moved in after I got out following my first round. I was
happy to be out of the hospital, but when I sat on our new couch, I
broke down. For the first time, it really hit me: Our life in D.C. was
gone. Everything had changed.
T: We decided to
scratch our April wedding and just get married right away. People at the
hospital kept calling me his friend. Sometimes it felt as if they
weren't being as forthcoming with me as they would have been if I had
been his wife. So we said, "Let's just do this."
Brandon and Theresa at their wedding.
B:
The doctors told me that the first 10 days after chemo, my immune
system would drop and I'd feel weak, so we decided to plan the wedding
for the week right before my second round, when I'd feel strongest. I
started chemo on October 4, and we got married October 24. We did our
best to include all of the guests we originally wanted to invite, but in
the rush, some people were left off.
T: Most of
our vendors were really sympathetic and returned our deposits.
Unfortunately, the dress I had chosen — a strapless lace gown with a
four-foot train and an eight-foot veil — was beautiful, but too fancy
for the Thursday-afternoon ceremony we planned at the Houston restaurant
we chose as our new venue. But when I called my original dressmaker to
explain what had happened, she was awful. "I'll ship it to you," she
said, "and you can sell it." I was shocked, and I lost it, totally broke
down. I think I'd been holding my tears for a long time. That was the
straw that broke me, the one time I cried. But in the end, she refunded
me, and it all worked out. I found a new dress that was pretty and plain
and fit the day perfectly. And Brandon loved it.
B:
I had been feeling OK during my first round of chemo. But a few days
before the wedding, my hair started falling out. I'd told Theresa that I
would just shave it. But watching it fall out in clumps in the shower
was really scary and made everything feel very real. The last thing I
wanted on our wedding day was to look like a cancer patient. I didn't
want it to be a somber day. I didn't want everyone to be thinking about
cancer.
T: But it wasn't. Brandon looked so
handsome. Walking down the aisle, I felt so loved. I'd known I wanted to
marry Brandon from the first day I met him, and it was finally
happening, and I was so happy. We said our vows and exchanged our rings,
which we had engraved with the words, "This too shall pass." When I was
in my 20s, a friend of mine who had cancer told me the story of King
Solomon and how he used to always say, "This too shall pass" when his
village was well and happy. He knew war would come again to his
village—and that war would also pass. The idea of the saying is that you
need to live in the moment and be thankful for today. I've tried to
live my life by that.
B: Since we got married,
there have been scary moments. One of the scariest things happened just
after our wedding, when I got pneumonia and spent over a week in the
hospital.
T: Brandon's mom and stepdad brought us Thanksgiving dinner in the hospital. It's his favorite holiday.
B:
It had been a pretty average day in the hospital: I sat around most of
the day getting my chemo. My parents came by late in the afternoon with a
Tupperware full of Thanksgiving deliciousness. I was pretty nauseated
from the chemo, so I could only get down a few bites. But it was great.
The
fall was hard. Everything happened so fast, and there were a lot of
unknowns. The doctors throw so much information at you. And everyone
reacts differently to chemo, so we had no idea what to expect. Since
January, though, I feel like we've turned a corner. In a weird way, we
started to get the hang of things. After my second round of chemo, I
went into remission. The sooner that happens, the more confident doctors
are that the treatment is working. I take half a dozen pills a day now,
and twice a week get my blood counts measured. If I don't need a
transfusion or platelets, I get to go home. If I do, I'll usually spend
the rest of the day at the hospital.
Brandon with their dog, Penny, a wedding gift from Theresa's mom.
T: Brandon
is a high-energy person — normally, he's up doing the laundry and the
dishes and the shopping — so on his bad days, when he's tired and weak
and nauseated, he's irritable. He's not himself. It's hard; there's not a
lot I can do to make him feel better. I cook and do the laundry and
clean the house. Neither one of us has been working. I just accepted a
job in in San Francisco. I'm planning to start when Brandon begins the
maintenance phase of his treatment.
B: And I'm
going back to work at Facebook in September. I've been on emergency
disability ever since, making around 60 percent of my salary. We're
incredibly fortunate: We have great insurance and a lot of support from
family and friends. But between paying for our new wedding as well as my
medical bills, it's been tough, financially. We live a much more
conservative lifestyle, and we're close to maxing our credit cards.
T:
We have new things to worry about now. Sometimes I worry that we're not
going to be able to have kids. It was pretty crazy — the day before
Brandon got hooked up to chemo, the doctors told us that there was a
chance once the treatment started he would not be able to have kids. It
was a very stressful process because we didn't want to start chemo until
we had his sperm banked, but we also didn't want to hold off on
treatment in fear the cancer would spread. The next day we were able to
sperm-bank and start his chemo. We'd really like to have kids someday,
so it's scary to think that when all of this is over, we're going to
have to figure that out.
B: I share that fear. Also, until recently, I was really worried about relapsing.
T:
But I'm not afraid. I've been confident from the beginning — I feel it
in my gut. Whenever he goes down that path, I say (A) you have no
control over this, and (B) everything is going to be OK.
B:
I went into the hospital one day, and someone pointed to my wedding
band and said to me, "That's great she stayed with you." I was like,
"Excuse me?" They said they've seen patients' spouses leave them. I was
blown away. This whole process has made me see a side of Theresa I never
would've seen. She knows me like no one else. When I'm not feeling well
and I put a face on for my friends, she knows the truth. I never
imagined I could trust someone this much. I owe all my good days to
Theresa. I'm lucky. I can't imagine going through this without her.
T:
When we got engaged and had these great careers and this perfect life, I
thought, naively, "Love is all you need." But there's so much more to
marriage, and to a meaningful relationship, than that. I've learned
about patience and accepting the world as it is by going through this
with Brandon. Earlier today, I was thinking about how his chemo is
winding down and it struck me: I'm happy. We're happy. Despite what
we've faced, whether conscious of it or not, we've chosen happiness. We
live every day for each other. And that's all we can do.
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