Sue B.

Nine percent is not enough.

A year before a chest x-ray revealed cloudiness in my right lung, I asked my doctor about this occasional dry cough.

“There are lots of reasons for a cough”, she said. And off I went dismissing the cough as post-nasal drip or allergies.

A year later, in December of 2022, I returned to the doctor. I had a cough and did not want to carry germs to South Dakota to witness the birth of a granddaughter. We chalked it up to a cold, and off I went again.

After two or more weeks of waiting, antibiotics, and a worsening cough, we did a chest x-ray looking at potential pneumonia. That led to a CT scan, a PET scan, a biopsy, and a visit to an oncologist who said, “You have stage IIIc lung cancer.”

“What?” I walked two miles daily, ate grass-fed meats from farmer friends, tended a one-acre garden, baked sourdough bread, and only ate out for special occasions. “How could this be? How could I have advanced cancer?”

Yes, I smoked in high school and college, but it had been nearly 20 years since I quit. Very seldom did I smoke a pack a day, but everyone smoked in the 70s. Remember Virginia Slims? 

"You’ve come a long way, baby." I most certainly did.

Since my diagnosis in January 2023, I have had radiation, chemotherapy, and immunotherapy treatments. Just when I thought the quality of my life was nearly back to normal, I experienced vertigo, nausea, and loss of hearing in my left ear.

Again, I went to the walk-in clinic, and my regular doctor thinking I had an inner ear infection. After two or three weeks of worsening symptoms, I called my oncologist, who immediately ordered a brain MRI on January 3.

The tests revealed not one tumor, but five in my brain, the largest being 1.9685 inches near my brain stem.

“I want to go to Mayo.” My doctor agreed.

Ten days later, we headed to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn., where a team of doctors performed gamma knife surgery to eradicate those tumors.

A genetic test revealed a mutation of the KRAS gene — bad news and good news.

Upon returning home, I began a targeted therapy drug called Adagrasib, commonly known as Krazati. I fondly call it “crack,” as I could not tolerate the full dose. After several months of fatigue and nausea, we lowered the dose, and I began to recover from both the surgery and the new drug therapy

I plan to beat the nine percent longevity statistic. However, being on a fixed income, having Medicare and good supplemental health insurance is critical to my ability to watch that new granddaughter and the rest of my grandchildren grow up.

In addition to the cost of the Gamma Knife Surgery, multiple doctor visits, three-month CT scans, and three-month MRIs, the cost of Adagrasib is $17,000 a month. 

I would not be here without insurance, the research and care of the Mayo Clinic doctors, and Medicare. For people not as fortunate as myself, Medicaid and affordable health insurance are critical. Everyone deserves the opportunity to seek medical help when symptoms arise.

Which brings me to this thought. With the increased awareness that lung cancer kills more people annually than the next top three cancers combined — breast, colon, and prostate, maybe more doctors would recommend earlier chest X-rays for everyone. Maybe more people who smoked or lived with smokers would consider asking for these screenings to become a part of their annual wellness checks.

I deeply regret not insisting on a chest x-ray when I asked about my cough a year before my diagnosis. Besides a history of smoking, North Dakota is notorious for radon in our soil.

The cost of lung cancer screening would be far less than the cost of keeping me alive for the next few years. I am praying that continued research will reveal a new course of treatment for my lung cancer, now Stage IV with Mets, as I have reached the ceiling of available FDA-approved drugs.

I’m grateful to the doctors at Mayo Clinic and the Sanford Cancer Center for all their kindnesses and expertise, but we need you to protect funding for the NIH and CDC. Without the NIH research advances in treating lung, and other cancers, I run out of options to live a long life.

I can LIVE with my cancer, I simply don’t want to die from it. And, remember, anyone with lungs can get lung cancer.