It's called a "pocket angel." That Half Moon Bay residents Julie Barrow and JoAnn Semones discovered in 2001 when they walked into the "chemo bay" of Stanford Medical Center, where Barrow was to begin chemotherapy for breast cancer.
Barrow's story began that July when she noticed an unusual growth in her right breast. A mammogram showed nothing, but an ultrasound yielded what a doctor called "very troubling" results. Following a battery of tests, she found herself facing Stage 4 cancer in the breast and lymph system.
 JoAnn Semones, left, cared for her partner, Julie Barrow throughout her cancer ordeal. They have written about their experiences in a book aimed at other cancer patients. |
Though the woman behind the voice would lose her fight against cancer, today Barrow calls her "one of the first special people we met in this process."
The shiny little object figured in Barrow's battles with cancer in 2001 and 2005, the triumph of the women's relationship, and their efforts to reach out to others.
Enter the paperback "Learning to Live Again." This slim booklet, published by Stanford University School of Medicine's Department of Radiation Oncology, is filled with stories, poems, photos and testimonials from men and women coping with the life-threatening and life-changing diagnosis of cancer.
It took shape in the Stanford cancer center's concierge services' support groups, particularly the "Writing Through Cancer" workshop, and in the quarterly newsletter "Surviving," written by and for Stanford cancer patients.
Designed for the newly diagnosed, each chapter offers themes and strategies on the road from diagnosis through treatment. It begins with "Welcome to the Club No One Wants to Join," goes into what helps after diagnosis, chronicles the rollercoaster ride of helplessness and deals with survival and regeneration.
The chapter "Nourishment" is where readers will find "Creating Safe Havens" by Semones. It includes the importance of humor, letting others help, allowing for grieving and the healing virtues of the seashore
"To be able to be out along the coast, treatment and post-treatment, was a huge, huge solace for me," said Barrow. "Very restful, very peaceful, it helped me regain my strength."
Each step is familiar to Barrow, who had worked with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and the National Marine Sanctuary Program, and to Semones, who had worked with the EPA.
Barrows had a mastectomy and six months of aggressive chemotherapy, which she calls "entering the gates of hell." The pair braved it alone, save for close friend Dorothy Allen, who took them to appointments, helped with Barrow's care and made sure that Semones ate a little. "Sometimes, they didn't know which one was the patient, because I was so pale," Semones said.
It all tested their relationship - a test they passed.
"As her partner, there was never any question I would be right there," said Semones.
Sometimes that meant sitting together in the chemo bay, holding hands and clutching special stuffed animals while the infusions flowed.
"There were times the chemotherapy was so difficult I had to borrow JoAnn's strength in order to make it through," said Barrow.
"I wasn't going to give up, or let you give up," said Semones. "There are two kinds of people who make it through this: feisty fighters or the ones in denial. We're definitely the feisty fighters."
At the end, tests showed Barrow cancer-free. But in April 2005, a routine mammogram showed calcifications in the left breast.
At once, Barrow chose mastectomy over lumpectomy. "I didn't want to go through that a third time," she said.
This second time saw changes. "We'd learned to reach out and ask for help," Semones said.
And they discovered the healing powers of humor.
Before chemotherapy began, Barrow shaved her head. It was "the first two-and-a-half-hour haircut I'd ever had," because she'd asked the stylist to pattern a heart in back for Semones.
She also wore stickers on her scalp that she found locally at Luna's Memories. They had different themes: a bumblebee for the "buzzzzz cut," billiard balls for her bald head, and hares or "Hairy Potter" stickers with the words, "Wish you were here."
The stickers were "an emblem of defiance, really," said Barrow. "I was determined to laugh at what I was confronted with, and to keeping a positive perspective."
Her efforts were appreciated on the ward. "She'd go into treatment with (the stickers) and it was amazing to see the smiles, reaction, the hugs," Semones said.
They also instituted a "bear altar" at home, with worry stones, dream catchers, stones with upbeat words on them and stuffed bears "Bubbles" and "Skyler" - "happy thoughts," say the women.
They heard inexplicable stories about angels like the one they'd held onto. "We've gotten stories back from people who were given angels. Every time, they started to hope, started healing," said Barrow. "You can chalk it up to coincidence, but personally, I chalk it up to more than that."
Post-treatment testing showed no evidence of cancer. But life changes were already under way for Barrow and Semones.
Both took early retirement from their jobs. Fulfilling her love of writing, Semones wrote "Shipwrecks, Scalawags and Scavengers: The Storied Waters of Pigeon Point" (to be published this fall by Glencannon Press Maritime Books in Palo Alto). Barrow works part-time as a docent coordinator for Año Nuevo State Reserve.
"We've changed our perspective on how to live life," said Semones. "If you're doing what you want to do, when and how you work, and are fulfilled in what you're doing, there's a huge difference in how you approach life and how you are on the earth.
"We don't put things off, either. If we're interested in it, we do it. We keep friends and positive energy around. And, we value our relationship."
One thing the women say they want to do is keep reaching out to others in the same situation.
"In the beginning, we were naive," said Semones, particularly about the many ways in which breast cancer can strike women.
"We very much believe in being open and sharing information about our experience," said Barrow.
"Learning to Live Again" is available free to patients in the Stanford Comprehensive Cancer Center, but it can also be obtained for $2 from Holly Gautier, registered nurse, director and concierge of cancer patient services at the Stanford Cancer Center. She can be reached at hgautier@stanfordmed.org.
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