Cancer Survivor, (Ret) Army Sergeant, Inspirational & Guest Speaker

About the Founder Touraine Lynch

SPINNING FOR LIFE has given me a fighting chance to live! As a cancer survivor, I believe that it can help you become the person you are meant to be as well. Cycling, whether on a bicycle or on a stationary bike is the key to a sound mind and body. I hope that my unbelievable story will serve as living proof of how spinning helped change the way I was living my life, and helped to mold me into the survivor and warrior I am today. Just when I thought it was over, I realized it's not over yet!

In 2001, at the age of 28, I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I was a sergeant stationed at Ft. Stewart in Georgia. It all began with me becoming very fatigued and being unable to run and keep up with our early morning workouts. I went from a thriving athlete used to making four-mile runs in just 36 minutes to barely being able to run two miles.

I began to awake at night to a cold sweat, hoping I was just fighting off something. Little did I know that I was fighting something much more formidable than I'd ever imagine. One hot day, while at work, I asked my platoon sergeant to be excused to sick call—the military clinic. My sergeant denied my request and I continued working. That night, my sweating increased so much so that I had to awaken my husband to change the soaked sheets. I had also begun to notice a dark, protruding area above my right breast, which I had previously dismissed as a bruise from our rigorous exercises. That night, my husband insisted that I go to the doctor.

The Friday I made it to the hospital was a day that would forever alter the course of my life. Unprepared for what was to come; I remember waiting in the lobby for my name to be called. I remember lying on the x-ray table to get my CT scan and looking over at the doctors discussing my film. I remember starting to feel as if none of this was good. I remember sitting in the doctor's office as she told me about the tumor that had wrapped itself around my major heart arteries. I remember still not fully comprehending that tumor equaled cancer. “Just take it out,” I said naively. “It's not that simple” she had replied.

It wasn't until I was told that I would have to go to another hospital for further diagnosis that I began to really worry. When we got home, the flashing light on our answering machine would tell us that I would have to be medi-vaced to Ft. Gordon. This was getting serious. My husband and child would have to drive for three hours to get there, and I had to take the most nerve-wracking trip of my life alone. When I arrived, although I felt normal, the doctors couldn't figure out how I was breathing so well on my own!

I had my first biopsy performed on my neck to remove a messy, Jell-O-like tumor. It was then that I was told about my Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma and about the chemotherapy that I'd need. My vanity wouldn't let me see past the hair loss that I knew would ensue. I would soon learn that that would be the least of my concern as the medicine hit my bloodstream during chemo. I looked around me at the other “soldiers”—the people who were fighting this and other diseases for their lives, some of whom did not have the comfort and support of family, as I had. Yes, I eventually lost my hair—my husband and I laughed as he shaved the rest of my hair off and I realized how good I actually looked with a bald head! During these treatments my mom and dad cared for my son.

Just when I thought I would be soon done with my first cycle of chemo, I had a relapse. I was scared and disappointed. How could this be happening to me? I had a son to live for, and my husband was doing all he can to lift my spirits and keep my faith in God strong. It wasn't over yet for me, I believed. After several more unsuccessful treatments, my doctors recommended that I go to Walter Reed Army Medical Center where my only hope would be to receive a Hematopoietic Stem Cell Transplant- Graft Autologous HSCT involves isolation of HSC from the patient, storage of the harvested cells hematopoeitic stem cells in a freezer, high-dose chemotherapy to eradicate the patient's malignant cell population at the cost of also eliminating the patient's bone marrow stem cells, then return of the patient's own stored stem cells to their body. Autologous transplants have the advantage of a lower risk of graft rejection and infection, since the recovery of immune function is rapid. The incidence of a patient experiencing graft-versus-host disease is close to none, as the donor and recipient are the same individual.

Had the cancer spread to my bones, I would have needed an Allogeneic Hematopoietic Stem Cell Transplant (HSCT), which involves two people, one is the (normal) donor and one is the (patient) recipient. Allogeneic HSC donors must have a tissue (HLA) type that matches the recipient. Matching is performed on the basis of variability at three or more loci of the (HLA) gene, and a perfect match at these loci is preferred. Even if there is a good match at these critical alleles, the recipient will require immunosuppressive medications to mitigate graft-versus-host disease. Allogeneic transplant donors may be related (usually a closely matched HLA sibling) or unrelated (donor who is not related and found to have very close degree of HLA matching ). Allogeneic transplants are also performed using umbilical cord blood as the source of stem cells. I was fortunate that my brother (Jeffrey) would have been my match.

My Bone Marrow Transplant started and I had to stay in the hospital for 30 days to receive the treatments. I was hit with high-dose chemotherapy, which, unfortunately, was so high that it knocked my immune system down to almost nothing. I was susceptible to any little virus out there, and eventually caught a fungal virus that required treatment from Amphotericin-B, one of the strongest antibiotics known to man. Nicknamed “shake and bake,” this antibiotic would make me shake and shiver uncontrollably. To make matters worse, my body produced a blood clot from lying in the bed so much, which then released to my lungs and caused my resting heart rate to plunge to 177 beats per minute and my temperature to 104 degrees. I was at my lowest point when I was put into the Intensive Care Unit where I literally thought I was going to die.

I called on my family to give me strength and to God to bring me safely out of my ordeal. After a week of intense prayers, I emerged. But it wasn't over yet. The doctor told me the tumor did not shrink enough and that I would have to go through with yet another treatment. By the time I started the treatments, I was a measly 110 pounds and, needless to say, looked very sick; my skin had darkened, my nail beds had turned black, and I was extremely weak. After that last round of chemotherapy, I had to get radiation therapy, which, despite losing my voice for a few weeks because my vocal chords were affected by the radiation, seemed a breeze compared to what I'd been through.

Four and a half years later, I am in remission. Because of my many treatments, my lung capacity was not what it used to be. It wasn't until I was introduced to cycling classes that felt like I was able to build myself back up—physically and spiritually. After all of my treatments, it was very important that I maintained a healthy life style and cycling enabled me to get my life back. It is my hope that, whatever your goal—whether it be getting in shape, losing weight, or regaining your strength after an ordeal like mine—SPINNING FOR LIFE will get you there. Just when you think it's over, remember that you can take control of the way you look and feel. Will you join me today to Spin for Life?

Note: Always consult with your physician before beginning any type of exercise or diet.