FRIENDS IN THE FACE OF FEAR
VOLUNTEERS HELP PATIENTS AND FAMILIES CONFRONT SPECTER OF ILLNESS
Published: Wednesday, March 25, 1992
Section: DAILY BREAK , page B1
Source: By Bill Ruehlmann, Staff writer
© 1992 Landmark Communications Inc.
TWO WOMEN SIT over coffee, discussing their cancers.
The servers arrive and depart as usual. The soups and the sandwiches
are routinely distributed around the room. Life goes on.
At this table, it is not taken for granted.
``I have close friends,'' confides Lisa Miceli, 32, who is in
treatment, ``but I feel like a bore talking to them about it after a
while.''
``It's the only thing on your mind,'' confirms Rexanne Metzger, 37,
who is in remission, ``and they don't want to hear about it.''
But she wants to hear about it. As one of 365 volunteers for Lee's
Friends, Metzger provides emotional and practical support to people
facing the crises of diagnosis and treatment of cancer. The non-profit
organization offered 171 new patients person-to-person care in Hampton
Roads last year.
Tonight, the Tidewater Chapter of the National Conference of
Christians and Jews will present Lee's Friends and its founder, Emily
Harkins Filer, with a Distinguished Merit Citation for ongoing
contributions toward building brotherhood in the community.
``When the doctor told me it was cancer,'' admits Miceli, ``I went
into shock. I started laughing hysterically. I laughed so hard I
shook.''
``I was on the operating table when I found out,'' remembers Metzger.
``The doctor said, `I'm sorry.' The tears rolled down my cheeks, and I
couldn't wipe them away.''
The noontide clatter of glassware and cutlery punctuates their
conversation. Soft piped-in music plays on. It's a Billie Holiday tune:
The difficult I'll do right now,
The impossible will take a little time. . . .
It could be their theme song.
``People say you're so courageous to fight this,'' notes Miceli with
irritation. ``Well, what else are you going to do? Go to bed and die?''
Miceli is single, a student and office manager for the Louise
Eggleston Center. Metzger is married, a mother of two and vice president
of Davis Interiors.
What these women have in common is cancer, a potentially but not
necessarily terminal disease. Three years ago, physicians found
malignant lumps in Metzger's breast and neck; she had surgery, a bone
marrow transplant, chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Last November,
physicians found a lump in Miceli's breast; she had surgery and now
undergoes radiation.
Miceli is hurting; Metzger has been there. That's a crucial
difference between sympathy and empathy. The women share their fears and
feelings on the phone and in places such as Cafe 21.
``I stopped to get gas on my way home from the doctor's,'' recalls
Miceli. ``It felt very unreal, very slowed-down, as if I were somehow
outside everything, looking in. I remember the man waiting to pay in
front of me. I remember thinking, `I'm standing in this line, and I have
cancer - how can this be?' ''
She looks up from her sandwich almost shyly.
``Did you,'' Miceli asks Metzger, ``feel that way?''
She had.
At age 16, Lee Harkins died of lymphatic cancer in Norfolk 14 years
ago. She faced her illness with determination and humor, living fully
the short time she had. In 1978, nine of Lee's friends established a
charitable trust in her name to sustain services for other cancer
sufferers.
``None of them realized the scope of the human needs out there,''
says Emily Harkins Filer, Lee's mother and executive director of the
organization. ``That seed grew into the present organization, thanks to
the support of donors, volunteers and the community. In the beginning,
we were unique in the country; now we're a national model.''
Today, Lee's Friends is a network of trained lay and professional
volunteers who offer comfort for cancer patients and their families -
from diagnosis to cure, or through death and bereavement. They have
reached thousands.
Besides the Distinguished Merit Citation, the organization has also
received the President's Volunteer Action Award, the Governor's Gold
Medal and the J.C. Penney Golden Rule Award.
VICTIM, VOLUNTEER
Three years ago, Rexanne Metzger was in the hospital recovering from a
mastectomy when Emily Harkins Filer came to visit. Filer was a friend
and fellow member of Metzger's congregation at The Church of the Good
Shepherd in Norfolk. Metzger said that her ordeal with cancer had led
her to seek the establishment of a foundation to help others in her
predicament.
Filer informed her that such an organization already existed, thus
recruiting on the spot one more Lee's Friend; ultimately, Metzger would
serve on the board of directors and become a major fund-raiser.
``Lee's Friends offers hope to people,'' she reports. ``You need to
have somebody who will listen. Your family may not be willing to hear
your fears because they're scared, too.
``But there are others who have been through this who will share
those fears and never say you're silly for having them.''
When Metzger was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, her fears
were for the prospect of two small children growing up without Mom.
During treatment, Metzger's weight plummeted from 137 to 98 pounds.
After one year, she returned to her former vigor; but after two more,
the fears remain.
Metzger is nervous before checkups; so is Miceli.
``If I didn't have Rexanne to talk to,'' says the younger woman,
``I'd be doing tranquilizers.''
MORE ARE SURVIVING
The diagnosis of cancer does not have to be a death sentence. More than
7 million Americans have been treated for the disease and survived; that
number is expected to increase to 10 million by the end of the decade.
Three million people have been cancer-free for at least three years, a
benchmark many cancer researchers regard as significant on the way to a
``cure.''
But there is never a guarantee for complete recovery.
``I didn't want to tell anybody at first,'' says Miceli. ``I didn't
want to upset people. I hate having anyone worry about me.''
Four months ago, she had a tumor the size of a golf ball removed from
her breast.
``No one should ever tell a woman who has a lump, `Don't worry about
it,' '' emphasizes Miceli.
``Famous last words,'' concurs Metzger.
``They should scare hell out of her until she gets it properly
examined,'' Miceli says. ``If the exam makes clear that she's OK, then
you can say, `Don't worry about it.' ''
She first heard about Lee's Friends at the hospital. Miceli had been
misinformed that she would necessarily lose her hair in treatment. She
went to Lee's Friends headquarters at 618 Stockley Gardens in Norfolk to
find out about wigs.
Miceli found out about moral support instead. When she broke her arm
in a fall, Lee's Friends volunteers drove her to and from treatments.
And the organization put Metzger in touch with her.
Spreading roasted garlic on rolls at Cafe 21, the women talk.
``I don't want the fast lane anymore,'' says Miceli. ``I want to
really experience my existence while I have it. But now, hooked to
doctors every six months for the rest of my life, I wonder if I can do
it.''
``There are two days of the week you don't worry about,'' says
Metzger, ``yesterday and tomorrow. One's over and the other you can't do
anything about. You have to learn to live for today.''
The difficult I'll do right now,
The impossible will take a little time. . . .
Metzger continued her tap and ballet lessons straight through
treatment.
She smiles.
``I know you're hurting,'' Metzger says, ``but there are days ahead,
and you want to make the most of them. Once you get through this, you're
on Easy Street. Any other battle you come across will seem simple by
comparison.''
Description of illustration(s):
Staff color photo by ROBIE RAY
Rexanne Metzger, left, overcame cancer and volunteered with Lee's
Friends. She lends support to fellow sufferer Lisa Miceli.
Staff photo by ROBIE RAY
Rexanne Metzger, left, is a Lee's Friend to Lisa Miceli.
Graphic
HOW FRIENDS HELP
Lee's Friends offers emotional and practical support free of charge
to cancer patients and their families. Trained volunteers visit patients
and families, assist with transportation and help make use of community
resources. Call 625-3115.
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