Just after Covid arrived in North America, journalist Helen Epstein was diagnosed with endometrial cancer — one of a predicted 66,570 new cases of cancer of the uterine body in the United States in 2021. About 600,000 American women have had it. A candid and eye-opening account of a medical steeplechase of surgery, chemo and radiation therapy, Getting Through It brings together reporting, research and elements of memoir to tell an important story. A guide for other women, their caregivers, and their families.
Born in Prague. Grew up in New York City. Graduated Hebrew University in Jerusalem Graduated Columbia Journalism School Taught at NYU Journalism Now live outside Boston, MA
Given my love of medical memoirs and my recent obsession with Covid chronicles, this was always going to appeal to me. Epstein, an arts journalist and nonfiction author born in Prague and based in Massachusetts, was diagnosed with endometrial cancer in June 2020. She documents the next year or so in a matter-of-fact diary format, never shying away from the details of symptoms, medical procedures and side effects. Her husband Patrick’s e-mail updates sent out to friends and family, and occasional medical reports, fill in the parts she was less clear on due to fatigue and brain fog – including two small strokes she suffered. Surgery was followed by chemo and then the fraught decision of whether to decline brachytherapy (internal radiation). And, of course, all this was happening at a time when people were less able to see loved ones and rely on their regular diversions. The apt cover conjures up the outdoor chaise longue where Epstein would hold court and receive visitors.
In my mind, cancer patients fall into two camps: those who want to read everything they can about their illness so they know what to expect, and those who avoid thinking about it at all costs. For those in the former group, a no-nonsense book like this will be invaluable. I particularly appreciated Epstein’s attention to her husband’s experience, which she had to dig a little deeper to understand, and her realization that having female cancer brought back memories of childhood sexual molestation. She is also candid about how other people’s emotional demands (e.g., recounting a family member’s illness, or expecting effusive gratitude for small thoughtful acts) weighed on her. A forthright Everywoman’s narrative.
Helen Epstein’s “Getting Through It: My Year of Cancer During COVID” arrived this spring about the same general time as a JAMA Oncology study reported a rapid rise of uterine – endometrial – cancer. A story in the June 18 New York Times told about this very study and related the struggles of a number of women to get this illness correctly and speedily diagnosed.
If you are post-menopausal, as Helen was, or not, if you are having unusual vaginal bleeding, please read this book as a guide to getting diagnosis and treatment and being straight with family and friends as one struggles through the exhaustion of post-op, chemo and radiation therapy.
In her book, Helen does all of this amid the rampaging COVID pandemic. She is honest about her year of anxiety and frustration. As a lifelong journalist, she is unstoppable in her note-taking, research and consultation with experts other than those taking care of her. Independent in lifestyle and spirit, Helen also has to adjust to leaning on her husband Patrick for help – such as asking him to drive her for her appointment for an “exceedingly painful” endometrial biopsy. “I knew she (her doctor) was testing for cancer, but I didn’t want to tell him before it was necessary,” she writes.
Six days later, Helen receives the diagnosis of endometrial cancer – cancer of the lining of the uterus, “the most common of gynecological cancers.”
“I found it impossible take the diagnosis in,” Helen writes. She and her husband had two grown sons and one grandson, were both in excellent health, followed the Mediterranean diet, worked out and walked the dog three times a day. A second grandchild was born during Helen's year of cancer. The couple had survived a number of medical challenges and emergencies together. When they receive this diagnosis, they swing into immediate action and get an appointment for the next day with a surgeon at Massachusetts General Hospital.
Helen is a terrific writer, having published numerous articles and books during her 50 years as a journalist. She carries the reader through 180 pages with an air of suspense and drama laced with facts and figures.
As if going through all this during COVID – her husband could not go to appointments with her but had to hang out on a roof while connected electronically to the consultations – was not enough, Helen also suffers several frightening strokes.
After her fifth session of chemotherapy, Helen tells her doctor she cannot manage any more. “…I felt dizzy, breathless, achy, and was assailed by a stupefying mix of constipation, diarrhea, and acid reflux,” she writes. “The neuropathy in my fingers and toes now included occasional shooting pains in my heel, and a numbness creeping to my ankles.”
She writes to her surgeon: “My cognitive dysfunction was so bad that I had to leave my Italian class because I could not follow it … “ Her doctor agrees that she does not need the sixth and last session, and Helen learns later from a different physician that doctors often schedule for six and agree to drop back to five for a “psychological win.” It makes her angry.
After chemo came radiation therapy – Brachy. Helen is able to deal with the after effects of vaginal dryness and other challenges. One of the solutions involved sexual intercourse – the last thing on Helen’s mind after all she’d gone through. It “made having sex seem like an additional chore,” she writes. An unexpected byproduct of the radiation therapy was getting closer to her brother, who had undergone radiation therapy for prostate cancer – and “with whom I’d never before discussed our sexual organs.”
The way Helen and her husband deal with this difficult year serves as a helpful and insightful guide for Getting Through It: how they handle communications with anxious friends (via regular emails); how they navigate complicated medical questions with persistent and insistent questions all along the way; how they maintain a sense of humor; how Helen finds solace in her backyard lounge chair and distractions in TV mini-series.
Finally, cancer is a watershed for Helen. “Now I was slowly trying to figure out my post-cancer world, sifting through what was essential and what was not, what people and activities I wanted to retain in my life, which friendships I might let go,” she writes.
She could not go on as if nothing had happened, keeping up relationships that she realizes had been “draining” her.
“I wanted a rest. I wanted to put out less and take in more.”
Maybe some people will find this useful or interesting, but I did not. It's a very basic recitation of her activities, treatments and symptoms during her cancer treatment. Not very well written considering she is a professional journalist.