Moncton's Mgr. Henri-Cormier Lodge offers refuge for cancer patients
Catherine Harrop says she found refuge in the Moncton lodge for 3 weeks as she underwent radiation treatment
I can see the pink line bisecting my body in the radiation room in Moncton. It's how the technicians position me on the radiation machine.
The beams of light align with the lines drawn on my skin with a purple marker — lines punctuated by what look like the crosshairs in a rifle's scope.
The radiologists want to fire that radiation at me with the same kind of precision, to avoid my heart and lungs while they go after any lingering breast cancer cells.
The lights intersect in a cross above me. I offer up a prayer.
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Faced with decisions
My decision to go to Moncton for radiation was one of a myriad of decisions I had to make about the what and where of my treatment for breast cancer.
Today, I know I got at least one right.
On Nov. 17 last year, three months before my arrival at the Mgr. Henri-Cormier Lodge in Moncton, I sat in my doctor's office in Fredericton, listening to her explain the results of a biopsy.
Then she gave a hint of the decisions to come.
"You're going to have surgery, whether it's a local lumpectomy, where they identify the area and then remove around it, or something beyond that, [your surgeon will], talk to you about that."
My husband, George, suggested I record the meeting with Collins, so that later we could absorb more details. It was a brilliant suggestion, and the doctor agreed. I'm listening to the conversation now.
Suddenly on the inside
After the diagnosis I felt my view of cancer suddenly switch. I went from an observer to an insider, in an instant. But I also felt oddly detached.
"OK, millions of women have had this," I told myself. "I guess I'm now on the conveyor belt towards the big fix and the experienced medical staff will tell me what to do next."
How wrong I was.
I had to decide: lumpectomy or mastectomy? Take a little out, and zap the rest and hope for the best?- Catherine Harrop
The experts informed, explained, provided literature, talked about statistics. But crucial decisions fell to me.
I had to decide: lumpectomy or mastectomy?
Take a little out and zap the rest and hope for the best? Or have it all taken off? Or maybe both, because, well, you never know.
Made rounds for advice
I kept finding myself at a fork in the road, desperately leaning on friends, family and strangers to help me decide whether to go left or right.
The statistics were generated with a computer program. The doctor put in my age, size of tumour and other factors, and out popped different projections for survivability, depending on the choice of treatment.
My tumour was big enough to make chemo an option, but small enough to land it squarely in a grey area — with no clear choice of treatment.
For $4K, perhaps more guidance
I was told I could pay US$4,000 to get a test that goes to the gene level to determine if chemotherapy or radiation would be effective on me. Each treatment is rated on a scale of effectiveness.
There is also a test for a breast cancer gene, which is done through the IWK Health Centre in Halifax.
After some deliberation, I said no to both tests and opted for radiation.
But where to have it? That was my last decision.
We were blown away.
Attached to oncology centre
The lodge is a place of refuge, waiting, community and boredom for those having cancer treatments at the Dr. Léon-Richard Oncology Centre.
With financial support from the Tree of Hope fundraiser and from the province, the lodge is open to any patients who have to travel farther than 100 kilometres for cancer treatment.
And it's free. They even provide vouchers for food at the cafeteria.
"I didn't know anything about this facility," said Frank McLean, a 57-year-old fit-looking guy from Dalhousie. "I'd never heard tell of the Tree of Hope, to be honest with you."
McLean was undergoing treatment for prostate cancer. When he mentioned the lodge to his father, he learned the local Rotary Club had raised money for it.
"I told him to make sure you tell the boys your money is being well spent, the way they're making life easier for people here. "
My husband and I arrived at the lodge in February and stayed for the better part of three weeks.
Nuns imagined chats
Nuns, I was told, had a say in the planning of the lodge's bedrooms back in the 1990s, insisting there be no TVs, to encourage people to wander down and sit at the community tables next to the open concept kitchen.
The nuns were prescient. And they'd be happy to know that even with Wi-Fi, the need for conversation has residents at the lodge gravitating to the tables.
Patients at the lodge come from all walks of life, from careers as varied as librarian, hospital worker, fisherman, reporter, from communities as varied as Bathurst, Richibucto, Miramichi and Fredericton.
Marks offer clues
Initially, no one asked about my diagnosis; they just shared their own. But those purple marker lines peeking out above my shirt were a giveaway. Without asking, the other patients knew that it was breast cancer.
Jocelyn Thomas works for Scotiabank in Campbellton. When she found out she would be in Moncton for six weeks of treatment for breast cancer, she said she expected to be bored.
"They have sewing of a quilt, they have making jewelry, they have bingo on Monday night and then Wednesday we have a band come in, which is absolutely fabulous.
"Everybody's happy, they're enjoying the music, and some are even getting up dancing, really having a great time."
Gerald Girouard agreed.
'Just like a family'
"Always something to do, eh? We all have a good time. We all joke around with one another, just like a family. And we're all sick. Hard to believe."
Longtime volunteer Emile Cormier moved out of the way surprisingly fast when I picked up the hammer.
But as much as the staff and volunteers at the lodge did everything to make the patients feel at home, most longed to be back in their own beds.
One exception was Kimberly MacDonald, who came to the lodge from the small community of Acadie Siding, outside Rogersville.
I watched as Charline Melanson, the cleaner, gave her a solid hug.
Life-changing stay
MacDonald, 56, would rent a room at the lodge forever if she could. Because of a difficult home situation and the kindness and warmth she experienced at the lodge, she said she'd decided not to return to Acadie Siding.
The tunnel is lined with old black and white photos of New Brunswick scenes, and pictures of doctors, nuns and nurses from another century. Some are bent over instruments that make you thankful you're from this century.
I finished my treatments in the spring, not long after two of my new-found friends sang "Happy Birthday" to me under the Radiology sign.
As a reporter, I knew I wanted to come the lodge again, not as a patient but to tell its story and share what it meant to those staying there.
'I find I pray a lot'
When I met Gerald Girouard on my return, I learned he and I shared a similar ritual during radiation. The former longshoreman from the Miramichi is being treated for bowel cancer.
Gerald, Jocelyn, Kimberly and Frank were patients at the lodge this November. I thank them for braving the television camera and sharing their stories.
I will never know if my treatment decisions were the right ones. If the cancer comes back, I am reminded, it might have come back anyway.
I do know that the decision that brought me to the Mgr. Henri-Cormier Lodge in Moncton was right.