Marion Harrison had a year that
she doesn't ever want to repeat, but the experience has given her a new
appreciation for Thanksgiving.
One year ago last September,
she was teaching business at Sisters High School.
She admits, "I was ill when
school started, but I didn't know it."
Her mother was then diagnosed
with an inoperable brain tumor in October, and in November, she learned
the bad news about herself. She had non-Hodgkins lymphoma.
It was Stage Four -- the most
serious level -- meaning that the cancer had entered her blood stream.
Her mother died on December
12 of last year, and Marion began her first chemotherapy treatment on
December 28.
She would have to endure two
different sets of treatment every three weeks until May. It was a harrowing
process, filled with physical and emotional trauma. And then, as a final
coup de grace, the day after her final cancer treatment, on May 9, her
father died suddenly.
The year also had its highlights
for her. On June 12, she her and her husband, Jim, who teaches math at
Sisters High School, celebrate their 30 year anniversary. On June 13 their
first grandchild, Katelyn, was born in Eugene.
Then on June 14, she got the
news that she had been waiting for -- a clean bill of health.
When asked what got her through
the past year, she was quick to respond.
"The support of friends in
the school district kept me going. All the phone calls and visits, they
were always asking, 'How are you doing?' and they brought meals," she
said.
"The highlight that meant
the most to me would occur every Thursday night before I had a chemo treatment
on Friday. The women from the school district would have a party just
to support and encourage me for my treatment the next day -- and they
did that for every treatment."
That support is characteristic
of the high school staff.
"It's really a very close
family in the school district," Harrison said. "It's an incredible support
system that if you're not in it, you don't see it. But without that support,
I never would have made it through. They supported Jim, and they were
there during the death of my mother and the death of my father as well."
Harrison also garnered support
from friends outside the district.
"My church family also meant
a lot to me," she said. "People I hardly knew would ask, 'How is Marion
doing?' The number of people who prayed for me was overwhelming.
"I was on prayer chains in
Alaska, Idaho, and the East Coast. There was a network of caring and praying
people literally all over the world. That people would send you good thoughts
and prayers was so amazing."
The most difficult element
in her battle with cancer, she acknowledges, is "the uncertainty of it.
Realizing that this cancer could come back at any time, and there's nothing
you can do about it. I've lived a blessed life for 50 years, with nothing
going wrong. But I'll never see my parents again, and the uncertainty
of the future when you have cancer is unsettling.
"Some days you can go on,
and some days you can't. When you hear the diagnosis, you think your life
is over --that it's a death sentence."
Surrendering the need to control
what happens has helped.
"I've realized that God is
in control, and this has helped me tremendously," she said. "This sounds
strange, but I am actually grateful for having the type of cancer that
I had -- there are worse forms of cancer to have than lymphoma. I am grateful
for what was my worst nightmare, but it could have been worse."
Despite losing both parents
and fighting a battle against cancer, Marion Harrison has a reason to
be thankful this year.
"I never realized how many
people cared about me. When things got bad, people would come by, and
they cared."