Dale City woman beating lymphoma, walking proudly
Donnie Biggs/News & Messenger
Dale City resident Lynne Streeper was an honored walker in Saturday’s Lymphoma & Leukemia Walk in Manassas on Saturday. She has been in remission for one year for non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
For someone who couldn't even walk to her mailbox last year, Saturday night's two-mile stroll through Old Town Manassas marked a triumph.
Lynne Streeper of Dale City, who, about this time last year, was weakened by debilitating chemotherapy treatments, walked proudly in the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's annual "Light the Night" Walk, wear-ing her lime green "A-Team" T-shirt.
Streeper, 50, is now in remission from non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, and she'
anticipated walking in the event since beginning treatment in June 2007.
"It's weird," she said. "There are certain dates you'll always remem-ber."
Like that fateful April day, a Friday the 13th, when she learned she was really sick. She'd gone to the doctor about her loud, croupy cough that wouldn't go away; she'd thought it was just a pesky cold. Chest X-rays revealed ominous masses on her lungs—threatening enough to warrant a call from the hospital just two hours after her visit.
Nearly a month and two biopsies later, doctors finally pinpointed the illness on May 16, 2007.
"I got up and walked outside," she said. "My brain shut down. People were moving their mouths but I couldn't hear them." She learned later, the doctor told her husband she had two years to live, at best. She stepped away from her job of 20-plus years as the regional loss prevention manager for the H&M clothing chain.
Now, a scar below her shoulder reminds her where relatively new Rituxan chemotherapy treatments entered her port—for the first time June 4, 2007, and every 21 days for about four month
thereafter—sending a warming sensation throughout her chest.
Shortly after starting chemo, her husband shaved her head bald.
"Let's cut to the chase," he told her. Then, he shaved his own head. She lost all the hair on her body, except one peculiar little eyelash, and took to wearing baseball hats, occasionally wigs, in public. She craved McDonald's milkshakes and Grotto's pizza from her hometown in Delaware. Luckily, she has a family of nurses who'd make special deliveries.
Streeper was one of two honored walkers at the fundraising event. The other was 6-year-old Corey Keeley, who is battling a form of leukemia. The walk helps raise funding for research on new and experimental drugs like the Ri-tuxan that put her cancer in remission last September.
Though Streeper remains positive, this is still a delicate time for her. The chance of recurrence is very high—64 percent within the first two years.
A glimpse at her own mortality forced her to reevaluate her life
perspective.
She'd always thought about what she'd do after retiring from the stressful retail loss prevention profes-sion, a job that involves overseeing security guards, interrogating employees suspected of theft and commuting around 16 stores in Washington, D.C., Virginia and Maryland.
"I kinda thought about getting out, but thought, 'Oh, when I retire…,' " Streeper said. "[But you can't do that]. There is no next year. It's now. If [I] want to do something, it's gonna be this weekend."
And that's exactly what she's doing. Streeper is taking a floral design class to consider becoming a florist. In the past year or so she's traveled with her husband to Key West, Fla., for their anniversary, Alaska for her 50th birthday (and, yes, she's thrilled to be 50, because she wasn't sure if she'd make it). There's also a scuba diving trip in the works.
"Live life in the now," she said.
Her positive outlook is what she believes prompted The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to make her an honored walker. She felt she was the only one who didn't fit into the support group meetings.
"I'm not doom and gloom." she said. "I was taught to look at the bright side… A cancer diagnosis is never a good thing, but it's kinda what you make of it. You gotta find the good in it."
She credits her faith in God with pulling her through.
"I know I wasn't alone. … If I wasn't meant to be here, I wouldn't be," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "My calling is probably meant to do with this."
Staff writer Katie Dolac can be reached at 703-878-8075.
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