Junel’s Life Of Survival

By Jenni Carlock

(Reprinted from Oct. 6, 2010 Amboy Beacon)

We go through life, beginning at birth, learning to walk and talk. From our earliest memories as children, we talk about future plans: “I want to be a nurse, or a firefighter, or a Navy medic, or a accountant, or I want to be Mayor or President, or I want to be an accountant, or I want to be a sales rep, or a chef or, in Junel’s case, I want to be a Director of Admissions for a Healthcare Facility.”

All of our thoughts, plans, goals and aspirations are geared toward the wonderful things that life has to offer us, and the things that we have to strive for, the things that we learn from society around us, from our families, from our early work place what we want for our future.

Never does it cross our minds to include in our goals and aspirations during our planning stages: I want to be a cancer patient and a cancer survivor.

Junel Hutchinson is a 40-year-old black female, born in New York, raised in North Carolina, who came to New Jersey in 1991. She’s a single mother of a 17-year-old high school female; she graduated from Philip Junior College of Business in Raleigh, NC, with an Associate’s Degree in Business Administration, and she started working at Aristacare at Alameda Center when it was still Perth Amboy Nursing Home.

Now, I know Junel will shake her head when she hears me say that when I started there, she was a “spoiled little brat.” Well, with much bonding with us (and mostly, much personal growth within herself), she decided what was the right path. Eventually, after being passed-over twice, Junel became Admissions Director for AristaCare at Alameda. She quickly grew into a woman of skill and leadership, taking the initiative to learn to be a better person, and people soon were looking-up to her for her guidance, support, knowledge and leadership skills, including her own family. She set an impressive example for her daughter and her family both local and afar.

The amazing thing about life is that we face challenges as they come-along to us. We sometimes try to anticipate the future, like putting extra money away for a rainy day, or putting money away for our children’s education or for a future vacation. When, I ask you, do we put money away for an illness such as cancer?

In June of 2008, Junel (we refer to each-other as “Sistah,” even-though I’m white, but we have that family bond) called me to say that she was going to have a sonogram of her breast because the doctor felt something there during her annual GYN consultation. Well, guess who went with her! Sonogram and ultrasound was done, and the news was then apparent, we tried to ignore thinking-about it as only a lump, probably a false alarm, probably an enlarged lymph node. But it was indeed positive for breast cancer.

What does one say? What does one do when the person you are so-close-to is diagnosed with this? Well, let me tell you. After the initial shock and going through the normal phases of grieving (denial, anger, bargaining, acceptance), you have to jump into action.

Ladies, the time from when you are diagnosed to when you begin treatment is

imperative. The cancer, given the opportunity, will spread quickly from

the breast because it is so vascular (full of blood vessels and fatty tissue).

Junel Hutchinson is one of the most-amazing women I’ve ever known. During the diagnosis phase, I jumped into-action to get tests and doctors and results in-order to start treatment. I had the easy job. The hardest part of all was for Junel to hear the word “cancer,” especially since we work in the medical field, admitting patients for various levels of treatment from orthopaedic to cardiac to cancer, and we’ve both seen the outcomes of all.

Mind you that the tumor in her breast was very-small, but that didn’t matter. When you hear the word “cancer,” your life flashes in-front of you because we hear all the stories, both good and bad. Yet, when it comes to you, will you initially be able to focus-upon the good?

Junel sought-out her inner self, her inner strength; support of her friends, family and loved ones, and kept an open spirit and mind. Yet, she didn’t air her woes to everyone. Her family was the immediate support, and her co-workers were amazing as-well. In fact we consider all our co-workers at Alameda as our family.

I remember days of taking Junel for her tests, and everyone would come to our office to give her support and even shed a few tears. Junel sought-out her strength, not only from inside her own desire to beat this disease, but she also received it from those who cared-about her.

When Junel was ready, she spoke-up to a female patient of ours who refused to have treatment for her breast cancer. She was afraid of the treatments, of what she heard of hair-loss and illness. Well, let me tell you, as vain as Junel can be, as she is a diva, she right-then-and-there pulled-off her wig and showed the patient that her hair was growing-back, and “even betta than before!”

Breast cancer is just one of the cancers we face. From pure experience, Junel was able to advise a social worker from one of our local hospitals that send us patients for rehab what to do to protect herself from infection during chemo, what to look-out-for during radiation, and what “female” symptoms might occur.

Junel was trying to keep her disease private, knowing the discriminations one faces — for her, even more of a challenge, being a woman, being black, and having cancer — yet, she wrote a testimony on Facebook to educate others; mind you, not only for women of color, but for all women and all men, too.

This was an amazing feat, for she was afraid of the public stigma associated with “breast cancer.”

Junel did have breast surgery, a procedure called a modified mastectomy (that name, in-itself, is scary as all heck). They removed the tumor and surrounding tissue, and some of the lymph nodes, for testing. She also went-through many weeks of chemotherapy to ensure that the cancer didn’t grow-back in

the surrounding tissues. Junel had a port-a-cath inserted because she has

really-bad veins. I tell you this from personal experience, as any time she needed regular bloodwork before the diagnosis, she would call me and say, “Hi, Sistah, watcha doing? Oh, I need you to come and draw my blood because they can’t get it at this clinic after three freaking attempts!” The port-a-cath remains in her right chest, and I flush it once-a-month so that she can have her monthly levels done.

I have to say that I admire her even-more for this because the port is a mo nthly reminder of the 18 months of treatments she went-through. Despite the emotional struggles Junel faces: occasionally discomfort, not to mention the effect it initially had post-operatively on her intimate life, she came-through it like the strong woman that she is. Her fiance Zaraca Jackson also went-through the same grieving process, experiencing sorrow, yet never giving-up hope. We all need that from our loved ones.

Cancer shows no discrimination of race, color, gender or sexual orientation. Even the smallest of lumps that you discover must get checked-out.

Junel Hutchinson is not only my “sistah,” she’s my hero. I admire her for all her strength, experience and spirituality. Now, Sistah, you are the word of support to all. I love you, Sistah!

Our strength lies not only within ourselves, but is supported by those around us. If you know someone with cancer, give them a hug and let them know that they’re loved, that they’re special, that they’re not just a disease, but indeed a human being.

Jenni Carlock, RN, BSN, is Director of Case Management for AristaCare at Alameda, Elm Street, Perth Amboy.