First Person
by Geri Malter
Sometimes I refer to my 17 years with cancer as a "challenge." Some might call it a battle, but to me challenge sounds less frightening and potentially positive. Still, people sometimes look aghast when I use the word.
Diagnosed with retroperitoneal liposarcoma, I was told the odds were good that I would have many recurrences throughout my life. So, my challenges were set before me: dealing with a rare cancer, finding a support group, finding my "new normal," and identifying the meaning of my cancer.
Patient advocate Geri Malter of Newton was first diagnosed with cancer in 1983 when her sons Harley (middle) and Evan were 12 and 9. They are both Columbia College graduates now working in finance in New York and Boston, respectively. Malter's condition is currently stable, as she awaits her next treatment.
When I think of my years prior to cancer, I recall a very different person. I was insecure, submissive, and would not speak up in a group. As a college student, I would purposely sit in the last row of the lecture hall so I wouldn't be called on to speak. I remember thinking, "Why would someone want to listen to my ideas?" I hadn't yet found my voice.
At the time of my diagnosis, I was a 38-year-old mother of two young boys, married to a physician, and employed part-time as a reading teacher. I was fulfilling my obligations, but not really making a difference in anyone's life beyond my immediate family.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, I was tossed into the new role of cancer patient. During the long days of recovery from four abdominal surgeries in six months, I spent many hours grieving my loss of control and pondering my uncertain future. Between bouts of terror, I was formulating some future plans. But I wouldn't share them with anyone, fearing criticism.
