[2023-07-12] Evert, Navratilova and recovery day 5

Evert and Navratilova

A friend sent me a recent Washington post article on the rivalry, friendship and shared cancer experience of tennis greats Chris Evert and Martina Navratilova.

As the article chronicles, Evert and Navratilova met 50 years ago, at 18 and 16, respectively. They became friends, then rivals, then friends again—the kind of friends who would call each other the moment they learned they had cancer.

As I shared in a blog post one and a half years ago, Evert was diagnosed with Stage 1 ovarian cancer after undergoing a prophylactic hysterectomy. Just weeks before, she had been contacted by healthcare professionals who had determined that a variant Evert's sister Jeanne had carried in her BRCA1 gene was pathogenic (capable of causing disease). Jeanne had died two years earlier from ovarian cancer, which—like so many cases of ovarian cancer—was diagnosed in a late stage. At the time, geneticists had concluded that Jeanne did not have harmful variants in her BRCA1 gene, so family members did not undergo genetic testing. But with scientific advances in the intervening years, geneticists reinterpreted Jeanne's genetic test results and notified Chris Evert. When the same gene mutation was found in Evert, she opted for a hysterectomy in the hopes of avoiding ovarian cancer herself. She hadn't. The pathology report identified malignant cells and a tumour that had developed in her fallopian tubes.

But Evert was lucky in one regard. Because of her sister's genetic testing result and advances in science, she was forewarned. She took immediate action—undergoing genetic testing and opting for preventive surgery. Though she was ultimately diagnosed with ovarian cancer, it had not spread. She was Stage 1, not Stage 3, which makes a difference in the survivability of this cancer.

Evert went public with her story, wanting to encourage women to know their family's health history and to act promptly on any new information. At the time—January 2022—she acknowledged that "a breast decision is down the road." The recent Washington post article picks up the story, revealing that Evert told her friend Navratilova that she had decided to have a mastectomy, given her high risk of breast cancer because of her BRCA1 mutation.

While supporting Evert in her cancer journey, Navratilova noticed a lump in her throat. A subsequent biopsy determined that the lump was a cancerous lymph node. Navratilova received some good news: her throat cancer was Stage 1 and highly curable. But she also received some bad news: she had early-stage breast cancer in addition to throat cancer.

Evert and Navratilova were already friends, long since both had retired from tennis. Facing cancer together brought them even closer. Quoted in the Washington Post article, Evert says: "With all the experiences we had, winning and losing and comforting each other, I think we ended up having more compassion for each other than anybody in the world could have."

In addition to helping each other, Evert and Navratilova have chosen to share their stories publicly as a means of helping others. Their messages:
  • Undergo regular cancer screening when such tests are available. Navratilova noted that she had not had a mastectomy for four years and was lucky that her breast cancer was discovered at Stage 1.
  • Know your family's health history. With no reliable screening for ovarian cancer, Evert might have met the same fate as her sister. But with advances in genetic testing and Evert's quick follow-up when healthcare professionals reached out to her, she greatly improved her chances of surviving the disease.
  • Control what you can control. Evert and Navratilova argue that much about cancer is not controllable. But individuals do decide whether to go for screening, whether to undergo treatments, and whether to take actions to reduce their risk of cancer or subsequent cancers.
Evert credits her and Navratilova's sports training for the focus, determination and discipline they needed to undergo treatment, stating: "You just gotta go through it to get to the other side."

I related to this story on many levels. Evert's mutation in a BRCA gene and her decision to have preventive surgery. Navratilova's advice to get regular cancer screening. The determination by both women to act as soon as they could when faced with a potential risk (new genetic testing information and a suspicious lump).

But what impressed me most about this story was the friendship between the two women. For my part, I feel like I have hundreds of Everts and Navratilovas in my life. Some are people I had known before being diagnosed with cancer. Others are people I met as a result of sharing my story, often sharing their own experiences and tips to help me with surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, side effects and recovery. Others gave or leant me physical supports, such as pyjamas, a heating pad, a handmade neck pillow, a wedge pillow, a mastectomy shirt with pockets to hold my drains. Many sent or dropped off gifts, such as food, inspirational books and cards, warm and comfy clothing, tickets to virtual concerts. And countless others—more than a thousand, I'm guessing—bolstered my mental health, cheering me up and cheering me on.

One frequent correspondent noted yesterday: "Thank goodness you have a loving and supportive family....some do not have that ......can you imagine?" I can imagine how difficult it would be to go through cancer or another serious illness without the support of other people. I've heard from many individuals who have reached out to family members, friends and acquaintances diagnosed with cancer or other diseases and conditions just to show they care.

Recovery Day 5

Home healthcare nurse Hannah came today. She changed all my dressings. I was afraid that the removal of the bandages applied after surgery would hurt, but it didn't. It was nice to have a healthcare professional lay eyes on my various incisions and drain sites and pronounce that they look good, with no signs of infection.

I have a bit more energy today, after a better night of sleep. Not that I'm doing anything with that increased energy, beyond sitting at my computer desk rather than in my bed and sitting at the kitchen table helping my daughter to make muffins. But it's still encouraging to feel like I'm making progress.

I'm still experiencing occasional breast pain, which I've started calling "the steely stabbies." Fortunately, these sharp pains don't last long and actually seemed to diminish over the course of the day.

Tomorrow, I will meet with Dr. Zhang, my plastic surgeon. Onwards.