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Thursday 24 July 2014

They Got Engaged. Then He Got Cancer.

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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