Defy

Back in 19…. (OK, 84!), I was a reporter at my first television station in Abilene, Texas. For my birthday, my parents gave me a day with a performance consultant. She was going to polish my self-admittedly raw skills and accelerate my improvement. After a half-day with her, she told me that there were many other positions besides on-air talent in the tv news industry and that I should explore those. I wasn’t exactly devastated. I was mad. I absorbed the more usable direction she gave me and never looked back. You know the rest of the story: I had a 25-year career in tv news that included about 15 years as a main anchor at WESH, an Emmy, several Emmy nominations, and field reporting in Cuba for the Pope visit, at the Olympics in Atlanta and Salt Lake, at several political conventions, legislatures, and hurricanes. I used that platform to try to make a difference for people with HIV, cancer, disabilities, and more. I wasn’t going to let that consultant’s low opinion of my abilities dictate the trajectory of my life. I defied.

I think defiance is underutilized. Too often, we hear or experience or feel something and choose to take the path of least resistance. Make no mistake about it, going with the flow and not challenging what’s in front of you is a choice. You choose the less awesome option. You let life happen to you. There is another way. More challenging, scary at times, not always successful. But often…

Back in 19…. (ok, 79!), I was cut from almost all of the sororities I wanted to join at Indiana University. I’m not sure what kind of force field I had up that first weekend of rush, but it repelled, I think 12 of 18 houses, maybe more. They didn’t invite me back. I went through the motions of the next couple rounds of parties at the houses that did invite me back. But on the final night, as nice as the girls were in the houses that did want me, and with the correct input from my mom that I’d be happy in any house, I dropped out of rush. It was pretty crushing for a freshman who had sworn, not a month earlier that I wasn’t about to to go Greek. I don’t take rejection well, even if it’s for something I originally didn’t want. A week later, my rush counselor told me a pledge in Pi Beta Phi, which was one of my favorite houses, dropped out of the program. I picked up the phone and cold called the Pi Phi rush chairman, Julie, who didn’t know me from Adam. Remember, they declined inviting me back on night one of rush. I didn’t know anyone in the house. But for whatever reason, Julie invited me to lunch at the house. And my force field must have been down, because they invited me to join, and I became a pledge class of one. And had the best college experience I could have had. I defied.

About a week ago, I was feeling pretty punk. My tachycardia was bad, I was super fatigued, and I thought about not going to work at Deer Valley in my mountain host job (which I love). But I was scheduled to be on First Tracks. That’s a program where people can pay $1500 and ski from 8-9 am, before the lifts open to the public. This day was for members and guests of the Youth Sports Alliance. I knew there would be Olympians. I sucked it up and defied… well, I defied myself, I suppose. And was rewarded. Because on one of the chairs, here’s what happened:

Me: Hi, I’m Wendy.

Guest: I’m Derek.

Me: Are you from here?

Derek: I’ve lived all over, California, here, Orlando.

Me: I lived in Orlando. I came from a tv station there to cover the Salt Lake Olympics here.

Derek: Wait…. What’s your last name?

Me: Chioji.

Derek: I KNOW YOU!! I REMEMBER YOU!

Me: DEREK? DEREK PARRA????

From there, there was shouting and laughing that could be heard all down the lift line for the rest of the ride. Derek Parra was a long track speed skater from Orlando who won Gold and Silver at the Salt Lake Games. He gave me the first interview after winning Gold, the hometown reporter from his hometown station, even though we were in the middle of the NBC facility. I never forgot that or him. He made my Olympics experience. And after 15 years, I got to see him again. Take that cancer and side effects. I defy you. Win.

Which brings me to last Thursday at Georgetown’s Lombardi Cancer Center. You remember I am in  a trial for a drug that has slowed or stopped tumor growth in only 10 percent of the people in it. I got in to the trial because, frankly, there was nothing else out there, and this could be a placeholder for me til something more promising comes along. If it worked. Here’s how last Thursday went, after Dr G got my CT scan report.

Dr G: You have stable disease.

Me: (while making V for Victory arms) YES! It’s working!

Dr. G: Maybe.

But I haven’t had stable disease in maybe a year. And this makes 12 weeks with no tumor growth. I’m as superstitious and cautious as the next cancer patient, but I’m taking this as a good sign. A really good sign. After all, like someone said three months ago, someone has to be in the ten percent, why not me? Defy the odds. Buy more time.

So now, I wait another six weeks to see if the drug keeps the cancer in check. And then another six weeks after that. For the last year and a half, I have been “well” (or not well) in blocks of time between drugs. Three weeks, two weeks.. The Milciclib Maleate is causing me rapid heart rate and nausea and fatigue and flashes of light in the periphery of my vision and I can’t taste sweet any more (that may be the fault of the Pembrozilumab (Keytruda), actually, but this drug isn’t helping!). (And as Patrick said, that’s not a bad thing, for a Diabetic.) But we, Dr G and I defied the 90 percent failure rate of this trial and found success.

Never give up.

Like underdog Villanova, defy the experts and the rejection and the self-limiters and the bad odds. What’s the downside?