By: Patricia Francis Good     

Like many people, I have stored mementoes of my life in boxes that have been kept in my antic for years & years & years!!!  And for all those years, I have reminded myself that one day I would go through all those boxes, if for no other reason, than to make sure water damage or insects had not destroyed my precious memories.

A few weeks ago, that day came! Instead of being overwhelmed with so many boxes, I decided to just take 2-3 boxes down every Monday.  Then, for a week I would open each box and throw away those items that I could live without and re-box the stuff I could not.

A good friend of mine asked me why did I do that and why now?  Well, after thinking about her question, I remembered what motivated me.  Another good friend of mine, Gray, celebrated her birthday this year in Paris.  And that sparked a memory of my 32nd birthday.  When I was 22, I was diagnosed with melanoma cancer and told that I would probably not live more than six months. So, 

I promised myself that if I lived to see my 32nd birthday, I would celebrate in high fashion and go to Paris, France. I started saving money for the trip.  And low and behold, I lived to see Paris on my 32nd birthday! On my way to Paris, I stopped to see relatives and friends in England. I shopped at Harod’s Department Store in London and found the perfect dress to wear on my birthday in Paris.  And to answer the “why” question, I decided to find that photo taken of me in Paris in that dress.

And, as in life, its usually about the “journey” not the “destination”. I found so much more in those boxes that I had not even thought about in years! The gems of my life’s journey have a lot to do with who I am now – many years later!  Shortly after I was diagnosed, I was enrolled in a study of melanoma patients with the same prognosis of 6 months or less to live.  For five years, I traveled to Galveston, Texas to the John Sealy Hospital and for a week in the summer, they studied my lymphocytes.  To their surprise, I was the only patient who lived through the 5 year study.  I was the only one who had refused chemotherapy and their theory was I had many more good lymphocytes that fought off the cancer cells and won. 

They stored my lymphocytes to test how they would work in other patients, and to inject them into my body, if I ever had a reoccurrence of the cancer.  Thank God, I have never did need them.

During this discovery, I decided to find out if the doctor who headed the study was still alive. Sadly, he had died just one year ago.  But, I did have correspondence from him to document the dates and critical information about the study.  I have written to that hospital department for answers to two questions: 1) Do they still have my lymphocytes?  2) Were my lymphocytes helpful in the study and modern day treatment of patients?  

Moving on with my deep dive into my past through opening these old boxes, I found many letters from my mother.  

My mother has been gone for some time now, but her words of love  and encouragement still resonate with my soul. She was always so  proud of me. After being diagnosed, my life had to matter. I chose to  serve others with my work in a variety of non profits that I joined in  the ensuing years. My mother knew me better than anyone. She  knew what I had been through and why my life had been saved and  always encouraged me to keep going, no matter how difficult. I knew  she always believed I could do anything. She would often listen  carefully to my challenges. 

Then she would say to me, “Pat, I know you. You will find a way.”  And you know what? She was right. Her love is just as strongly a  part of me today as it was then. Love never dies. I kept all her letters  and I always will. Too precious to me to let go even one day that I  exist on this earth, she remains in my heart forever. 

There were other letters and notes. I found it funny that I found old  love letters from boyfriends that reminded me of the young, vibrant,  woman that I was then. I read those and had a good laugh. Then, I  didn’t need to keep them anymore, so I threw them away.

The letters and notes that I did keep were from dear friends and  family members. Like Sister Angela Murdaugh, a pioneer of  midwifery in America. 

I met her when I was a young field representative for the March of  Dimes. I was searching for examples of good health care for mothers  and babies to support, and boy, did I find that one day in an onion  field in Raymondville, Texas! To win over migrant women to use her  new free standing birth center (the first in the country!) Sister Angela  went to work with them picking onions. 

Picture this: I was in high heels, suit, with a briefcase in hand, walking  through the onions fields in the mud, trying to find her. According to  Sister Angela, she recalled that she looked up and saw this young  woman stuck in the mud and wondered how & why is she here? She  pulled me out, cleaned the mud off my high heals, and began to talk  about her mission. We became dear friends then and remained so  until she died. 

I discovered a letter from Sister Angela after she won Nurse of the  Year. In the note she said she hoped we would become friends, and  thanked me for my submission of her nomination. And we did  become lifelong friends and have witnessed the highs and lows of our  lives together, through thick or thin, our friendship was one of the best  blessings of my life. I don’t throw away anything from her!

There were other notes and letters and photos of my sisters that are  too precious to give up! Throughout my life, I have been so lucky to  have three of the world’s best sisters, Kathy, Pam & Janet who have  stood by me. When I am with my sisters, I am home. My heart is filled with love, laughter and song! Kathy taught us as children to sing  in harmony and that harmony has carried us through the high & low  notes of the music of our lives. Sister harmony is as vital to me as  oxygen. I can’t and won’t throw away anything from them…too  precious for words…too much love to turn away. 

I have one last box I need to open. My keepsake box filled with  photos and notes from people I love that are too valuable to trust to  the attic. I keep it in my prayer closet. I am saving that for a day that I  have all to myself to look at my favorite cherished memories. 

So, you say … Did you find the photo you were looking for of you in  Paris? I eventually did, but it wasn’t in any of the boxes in the attic.  However, in the attic I did find some photos of me wearing the Paris  dress back in Texas. I had forgotten my father had given the photo of  me in Paris to my husband on our wedding day. He had kept it on a  book shelf in his office until he died. I found it later in a box from his  office.

 I guess I wasn’t ready to find that Paris photo that day in the attic.  The right time happened as I was grieving for my husband and  finding it in the box from his office had so much more meaning to me  than it would have ever before. However, on the journey of looking for  that one photo, I found so much more! 

Oh, and about the two questions I asked of the John Sealy Hospital  about my lymphocyte studies. No, my lymphocytes were no longer in  storage at the hospital, but because of the 5 year study I participated  in, and several other studies conducted around the country and the  world, today the latest treatment for terminally ill melanoma patients  is injections of synthetic lymphocytes which seems to be working in  many patients to expand their time on earth. 

Looking for ways to be part of something bigger than myself was  always a goal of mine. I am humbled and grateful that  my lymphocytes held a hopeful treatment option for many patients  living with the difficult challenge of a six month prognosis. My  lymphocytes were only a small part of a huge medical study giving  doctors the possibility of finding an effective treatment for melanoma. 

So far, I have never had a reoccurrence so I’ve never had to take the  injection. But, I know now that the treatment exists. Therefore, hope  is alive and well for patients everywhere who face the same diagnosis  that I experienced so long ago. Now this injection will give them hope  that they too can outlive their prognosis.

Pat Good’s Shepherd’s Pie 

Ingredients Tree Base:

• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil 
• 1 cup chopped onions 
• 2-3 cloves of garlic crushed 
• Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste 
• 2 pounds ground lamb or beef 
• 1 package prepared brown gravy mix 
• 2 teaspoons fresh rosemary, crumbled 
• 1 package of frozen mixed vegetables 
• 2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese 
• 1 recipe of mashed potatoes 
• 2 tablespoons butter, cubed 
• Chopped parsley, for garnish 

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a large sauté pan, over medium  heat, add the oil. When the oil is hot, add the onions and garlic.  Season mixture with salt and pepper. Sauté until vegetables are soft.  Add the lamb or beef to the onions and garlic and sauté until meat is  brown. Cook the gravy according to package directions and stir into  the meat mixture, adding 2 teaspoons of fresh rosemary. 
2. Put mixture into a greased deep 9-inch oval casserole dish. Put  frozen vegetables under water to thaw and put a layer of vegetables  over the meat mixture. Season mixture with salt and pepper. Add a  thick layer of shredded cheddar cheese over vegetables. Prepare one  recipe of mashed potatoes. Place spoonfuls of the potatoes over the  cheese layer and spread the mashed potatoes on top and cover  evenly to the edge of the casserole. Make a crisscross design with a  fork. Dot the top of the potatoes with butter and a little more salt and  pepper. 
3. Place in the oven and cook at 375 degrees for about 35-40 minutes  or until the potatoes are golden brown or until it’s bubbling hot. (Place  a baking sheet under the dish in case the pie starts to bubble over.) Remove from the oven and spoon onto serving plates. Garnish with  parsley.

INSPIRATION:

How does she go with the flow,  with the change, without  clinging to the past? 

She does it one breath at a time.  One blink at a time. One step at  a time. One gratitude thought at  a time. One act of kindness at a  time. One smile at a time. 

-Camilla Downs

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If you know someone who would appreciate these stories, please share it with them! It really helps me and, hopefully, helps them too! – Pat