When Catherine awoke one morning with pain in her abdomen, she trusted her instincts and went to the UAMS emergency room. After surgery to remove her appendix, a routine medical test revealed that her appendix was infiltrated with a cancerous tumor. An additional surgery was performed to remove part of her colon, and she was then diagnosed with stage II colon cancer. Catherine was advised that if she had not been diagnosed, she would have been dead within two years.

Since Catherine had two different types of cancer, she needed to undergo chemotherapy. Catherine and her husband, Jeffrey Burton, wanted to have a child and were concerned about the affect of her cancer treatment on her ability to conceive a child. Her oncologist, Issam Makhoul, M.D., had not encountered a similar situation because most women diagnosed with colon cancer are past their childbearing years.

Dr. Makhoul created an individualized treatment plan for Catherine to preserve her fertility. Chemotherapy targets dividing cells, so Dr. Makhoul used medications to put Catherine’s ovaries to sleep. While there were no guarantees, Catherine and the staff at UAMS hoped that her ovaries would be protected from the cancer treatment.

At the UAMS Winthrop P. Rockefeller Cancer Institute, Dr. Makhoul conducts clinical research and treats patients. “I don’t want my patients to wear the ‘cancer’ label. It’s not enough for me to treat the disease of cancer only from a medical standpoint. I want to heal the person so that they are empowered to regain control and reconnect with their life,” he said. “I don’t want my patients to live in fear. If we have helped patients to reestablish normalcy so that they can enjoy the important as well as trivial things in life, then we have achieved a lot.”

Two years later, Catherine and her husband were thrilled to learn that she was pregnant. Because Catherine had some complications with a previous pregnancy and due to her cancer treatment, her pregnancy was treated by Paul Wendel, M.D. through the UAMS high-risk pregnancy program.

“With the only board-certified maternal-fetal medicine physicians in Arkansas along with state-of-the-art equipment and technology, I believe UAMS offers the best in medical care for patients who have high-risk pregnancies,” said Dr. Wendel.

Catherine and her family welcomed McKenzie June Burton, a happy and healthy baby girl who was born at UAMS. While the road to bring McKenzie into the world was full of bumps along the way, Catherine is very grateful to all of the UAMS staff members who worked to restore her health and made the birth of her daughter possible.

                                                                                                                                                        
“I owe McKenzie’s life to all of the doctors and surgeons at UAMS. Timing is everything, and in my case, it was life or death. I did not have any of the signs of cancer. Thanks to all the staff who assisted in saving my life and delivering a new life. UAMS is top notch!”
                                                                                                                                                         
Looking at the photo of Catherine and McKenzie, Dr. Makhoul smiles. “The assignment that I give to my patients, if they want to reward me in any way, is to go and be happy and live a long life. Knowing that Catherine and her baby are thriving is a gift to me.”

The oncologist had bluntly informed the 27-year-old Little Rock realtor that she had cervical cancer.

“I was in such a state I was dizzy. I went to my mom and said, ‘I need a second opinion.’ I wanted a doctor I could easily talk to.”

That’s when she called UAMS and Dr. Alexander “Sandy” Burnett. The gynecologic oncologist had recently become the first surgeon in Arkansas to use a robotic procedure called a trachelectomy to remove a patient’s cancerous cervix through small incisions in her abdomen while preserving her ability to have children. Could he help her?

As a young adult, Johnson-Davis was punctual in getting her annual Pap smear. Her grandmother had died from cervical cancer when her mother was just 10 years old. Johnson-Davis’ tests had always been fine until the spring of 2007 when it showed abnormal cells on her cervix.

She underwent a colposcopy, a procedure that uses an instrument with a magnifying lens and a light to examine the cervix, and a biopsy. Afterward, the doctor’s office called her to come in immediately.

“My stomach was in knots. I had no idea what they were going to tell me,” said Johnson-Davis.

Her gynecologist sent her to see the oncologist, who performed a procedure to remove the abnormal cells. After receiving the startling cancer diagnosis by phone, she went for her next appointment and was told, “You’ll never have kids. You need a full hysterectomy.”

Something rose up in her. She thought, “You’re not going to decide my future. I’m going to decide it.”

After she turned to UAMS, Burnett studied her file and repeated the colposcopy. The cancer had grown. Burnett recommended she undergo the trachelectomy.

But before she could be scheduled for surgery, she discovered she was pregnant. Surgery would have to wait. Since going into labor could disturb the cancer, Burnett scheduled a C-section two weeks before her due date.

A perfectly healthy Hadley Davis was born July 31, 2008. On Nov. 21, 2008, Burnett performed a robotic radical trachelectomy, removing the cervix and five lymph nodes. The cancer was finally gone.

“I just can’t thank Dr. Burnett enough,” said Johnson-Davis, now 29. “Had I not found him, I’d have a huge void in my life. I think I would have a little bit of a broken spirit.”

The new procedure allows a woman to have more children, though Johnson-Davis is not sure she will choose to due to the high risks. “Dr. Burnett is so positive. He said, ‘Give that baby some brothers and sisters. If you want to have another one, I feel confident that you can.’”

These days she is back working full time. She is grateful to her husband, Josh Davis, who with their parents helped care for her and the baby during her weeks-long recovery.

“We have such strong faith in my family. That’s the only thing probably that kept all of us from breaking down,” she said. “I tried to just hold positive and be so grateful that yeah, I’m going through this, but look at this blessing that I’m holding.”

Her mother died of breast cancer in 1969 at age 47. That’s just two years older than Rita was at the time of her diagnosis.

Those memories reawakened when one of her two daughters was diagnosed in 2009. As the James family soon realized, family history can be one of the best indicators of breast cancer occurrence.

Waging War
James’ cancer battle began Jan. 16, 1991, the same day fighting began in the Gulf War against Iraq.

“I remember waking up that day wondering if we were at war, but I was already at war against my cancer,” she said of the day she was diagnosed.

A mastectomy followed. Still, since her mother’s cancer returned after treatment, she wanted to consider all options — leading her to the Cancer Institute and Laura Hutchins, M.D., director of the UAMS Division of Hematology/Oncology. 

“I knew when I came here she’d be aggressive in her treatment, and that’s what I wanted.”

She began a six-month chemotherapy treatment. Hutchins sat with her through the first dose.

Through the treatments, James kept working as a math curriculum specialist with the Little Rock School District. She did not let the disease slow her.

Daughter Karen said her mother remained positive through the ordeal. ‘Mom taught us to appreciate every day and not to sweat the small stuff,” she said.

Winning the Battle
In 1996, she had her five-year checkup. It was a milestone, particularly since her mother did not survive five years after her diagnosis.

But it wasn’t long after that when Rita felt another lump. The cancer had returned, meaning a round of radiation therapy.

Cancer left the James family alone for 13 years. Then in May 2009, an abnormality showed up in a mammogram of Rita’s daughter, Jennifer, 40.

Knowing the family history, both Jennifer and Karen began having regular mammograms and checkups early. Jennifer was not surprised to find the abnormal area was malignant.

“I was scared just knowing what mom had been through,” said Jennifer, who had a mastectomy in July. “But I don’t think of breast cancer as a death sentence anymore. I found mine before I could even feel anything.”
 
Her prognosis is good. 

Forging On
Because of their strong family history, Rita and her daughters decided to be tested for genetic defects that can indicate an increased risk for breast cancer. About a third of patients with a family history of cancer will have such a genetic mutation.

Rita’s test showed a defect in one gene segment. Her daughters had a 50-50 chance of inheriting the defect that could mean an increased risk of cancer.
But it was Karen, not Jennifer, who had the genetic anomaly.

“I think the testing is important, but to me the results showed that family history can be just as important as genetics,” Jennifer said.

Karen took the results in stride, continuing regular checkups and self-exams. “It’s just something to stay on top of,” she said.

The women are adamant about the importance of mammograms, regular checkups and self-exams.

“I’m amazed at people who have a lump and don’t do anything,” Rita said.

“Or who won’t get a mammogram because they say it hurts too much,” added Jennifer. 

Breast Cancer
Winthrop P. Rockefeller Cancer Institute

“I am living proof that cancer can be cured.”

“In 1995 I developed a rare and often fatal form of cancer called sarcoma. My doctor sent me to the Cancer Institute at UAMS because they had the only fellowship-trained orthopedic surgeon in Arkansas who specialized in my cancer. But it was a team effort, however, that saved my life. UAMS not only took care of my medical and emotional needs during treatment, but the needs of my family as well. Cancer is often harder on the family than the patient. UAMS is an Arkansas treasure.”

“My prayer through this whole thing has been, ‘God, how did I get here, and what am I supposed to do with this?’” she said.

“I felt like my medical team was right there with me 24/7.” 

A 26-year UAMS employee, Holland discovered a suspicious lump in her abdomen after falling on a tile floor. A series of tests revealed a mass on her left ovary. “I believe that the beginning of my miracle was when I fell. It helped me find the cancer very early,” she said.

Holland got an appointment with Dr. Alexander Burnett, director of the UAMS Division of Gynecological Oncology, who performed surgery in late March 2007 to remove a very aggressive and rare form of ovarian cancer. Holland can’t say enough to praise Burnett, his staff and the care she received. “I knew I had Dr. Burnett’s undivided attention, and I needed that. I felt like my medical team was right there with me 24/7,” she said.

After six rounds of chemotherapy, Holland is ready to resume her favorite outdoor pastimes. She’s also working with her daughter, Amy Lasseigne, to share the news that ovarian cancer can be beat.

“I want to use this experience to help other women,” she said. Whether that includes speaking publicly about the disease or organizing efforts to support other cancer patients and survivors, Holland is open to whatever the future holds. “If we’re on the right path, we’ll see the fruits of our labor,” she said.

Twenty years ago, she and her husband, Jonathan Richards, moved their young family from New York to Santa Fe, N.M. Jessup, an author, and Richards, a journalist and cartoonist, knew they could relocate their careers cross country with relative ease, while also giving their two daughters a safer and more child-friendly environment in which to grow up. 

“We originally just moved to Santa Fe for one year, but we never left,” said Jessup, whose books include “The Woman’s Guide to Starting A Business,” written under her name, and “Tender Offerings” and “Bare Essence” written under the pseudonym Meredith Rich. “Bare Essence” was later adapted into a television mini-series and weekly series. 

“I knew I was in good hands the second I got here. Everyone here is extraordinary, from the doctors and nurses to the patient care techs and secretaries.”

Then, in 2005, the family found a new home away from home — although this time it was by necessity instead of choice.

While lifting a holiday package in December 2004, Jessup felt a “pop” in her back. At first, she dismissed it as a minor injury. When the pain persisted and worsened, she went to the doctor. “I was told that I had a compression fracture in my spine and was put on bed rest,” she said. It didn’t help.

An MRI revealed not one but several fractured vertebrae. On March 2, 2005, Jessup entered the hospital due to extreme pain.

While hospitalized, she was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a cancer that affects the plasma cells. Among other symptoms, multiple myeloma causes calcium to be leached from the bones, often resulting in compression fractures.

Because her mother had been diagnosed with multiple myeloma years earlier, Jessup was already somewhat familiar with the severity of the disease.

“My doctor knew that Santa Fe didn’t have a facility equipped to treat me,” she said. “The day I was diagnosed, my doctor e-mailed Dr. Barlogie in Little Rock. I was told that he could accept me the following day.” Bart Barlogie, M.D., Ph.D., is director of the UAMS Myeloma Institute for Research and Therapy.

Jessup and Richards arrived by air ambulance at UAMS, where she quickly began undergoing tests and chemotherapy. After an initial hospitalization, Jessup and Richards worked with Jo Smith, UAMS director of special services, to locate a rental house. Richards returned to Santa Fe for their dog, and the couple set up a life in Little Rock based around Jessup’s treatment schedule.

“I knew I was in good hands the second I got here. Everyone here is extraordinary, from the doctors and nurses to the patient care techs and secretaries,” she said.

Jessup underwent a stem cell transplant in June and another in September, after which she was in complete remission. Although they continue to return to UAMS for regular checkups, Jessup and Richards are back to their normal lives in New Mexico, where she is toying with the idea of writing a book about her experience.

“Going through all of this has taught me total surrender,” she said. “I’m so glad that I totally put myself in the hands of UAMS.”

“When it comes to cancer, there’s an ocean of troubled water you have to swim through to make it safely to the other bank,” McCarty said. “You can’t just put up a ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water,’ like the old song says, without having muddled through the hard part.”

“Thanks to Dr. Suen and the care of his staff, I’m able to relay my story of hope.”

So Paul Simon will just have to excuse McCarty’s take on the lyrics he penned to the folk duo’s optimistic swan song. Following his sudden oral cancer diagnosis in April 2000, McCarty didn’t have the luxury of opting to travel a bridge safely above those dark days. In retrospect, however, he says the UAMS Winthrop P. Rockefeller Cancer Institute was the boat that ushered him through.

“When you’re diagnosed with cancer, it comes down to two things, really,” McCarty said. “You need hope and you need healing, and both of those were given to me at the Cancer Institute.”

Never a tobacco user and not someone who abused alcohol, McCarty thought there was no chance a series of ear, throat and head pains were side effects of oral cancer. After an original diagnosis, he was pointed to James Y. Suen, M.D., chairman of the UAMS Department of Otolaryngology- Head and Neck Surgery, for a second opinion.

Suen began aggressive treatment that included 38 rounds of radiation and four weeks of inpatient chemotherapy. Because the cancer was located in the back of the throat near the base of McCarty’s tongue, his treatment was especially challenging.

“I refer to my months of treatment as my ‘dark days,’ but without that challenge there would be no hope for recovery,” McCarty said.

Before treatment, he weighed in at 205 pounds. As a result of living off a feeding tube for nearly eight months, McCarty’s 6-foot frame shrunk to a paltry 135 pounds. The drastic weight loss and the obvious physical changes that come along with it were often dramatic for friends and family.

“I play a lot of tennis and there were days when I’d go by to stand at the fence and watch,” McCarty said. “Oftentimes people I knew or usually played with wouldn’t even recognize me.”

After eight years cancer free, he’s back up to a healthy 185 pounds and serving up aces several days a week on the tennis court.

“To have world-class treatment five minutes from my backdoor right here in Little Rock no doubt gave me a second lease on life,” he said.

McCarty reflects so positively on his experience, that he gladly volunteers his time for speaking engagements relaying the story of his survival and the role that the Cancer Institute played in it.

“If I could give one piece of advice, it’d be to listen to your body,” McCarty said. “Mine was telling me for six months that something wasn’t right. Thanks to Dr. Suen and the care of his staff, I’m able to relay my story of hope.”

“With the help of UAMS we’re moving forward and not slowing down a bit.”

“Without the strong relationship I have with God, I have my doubts that I ever could’ve gotten through this,” said Myton, a guidance counselor at Parkview Arts & Science Magnet High School in Little Rock. “I feel like it’s my duty to spread the word to whoever will listen that when life throws you a curve like it did me, that faith can bring you through.”

So much so that writing the book in English isn’t enough. Because she’s always up for the challenge of honing her skills, Myton said she’s going to translate the book herself into Spanish in hopes it’ll keep her sharp for a future family trip to a Spanish-speaking locale.

Myton’s story begins with a routine gynecological checkup in fall 2002 while pregnant with her second daughter, Jamaica, who is now 6 years old.

“When I had a checkup during my second pregnancy, they said my ovaries looked enlarged and that we needed to watch that,” Myton said.

That was the first sign in a series of events that ultimately led to a shocking phone call shortly before she and her husband, Clausey, left the Helena-West Helena School District for jobs in the Little Rock School District in 2004. The call brought news that her CA-125 protein levels had doubled; often an ominous sign that ovarian cancer is present.

And that’s when she believes a higher power began to help guide her.

“My husband’s reaction to that phone call was far more serious in tone than mine,” Myton said. “He immediately feared the worst, while I had an empowering feeling that I would take anything as it came and that it would all work out for the best.”

Though a stage 2B ovarian cancer diagnosis followed, along with surgery and six rounds of chemotherapy soon after, Myton said her positive attitude and graceful aura persevered.

Losing her hair? “I thought to myself, ‘I guess this must be working,’ and took it in stride.”

Six draining chemotherapy treatments? “I’d take them on a Friday and get back to work on a Monday.”

If faith was Myton’s courage, it was her family that provided the strength.

“My daughters were 2 and 5 at the time. They knew I was sick, but I didn’t have any problems with them,” Myton said. “It was like God was also giving them strength. I didn’t have to worry about them at all.”

Now with Jamaica, 6, and Nia, 9, the Mytons are healthy, fit and planning several international trips to continue their journey through life.

“God was not ready to take me away from my girls or my husband,” Myton said. “With the help of UAMS we’re moving forward and not slowing down a bit.”

There was just that fateful routine check-up with her doctor in Shreveport, La., that was left to fit in before Mona Morgan and her husband, Eddie, jetted off to Europe for the vacation of a lifetime.

“I thought we had planned for everything, but wouldn’t you know it…,” Mona said as the words trailed off. “Everyone always says it’s the last thing you expect to hear, but it was especially hard to take in such short notice before our big trip.”

Abnormally high protein levels, a common symptom, that were detected that day ultimately led to a multiple myeloma diagnosis that put the brakes on the Morgan family’s European vacation. Instead it created a home away from home in Little Rock for treatment at the UAMS Myeloma Institute for Research and Therapy. Though there’s no mistaking central Arkansas for the majestic backdrop of Spain and Portugal, Morgan says the unexpected detour has turned out to be a pleasant surprise.

“We were no different than the thousands of other patients from around the world who were surprised to learn that Dr. Barlogie’s office at UAMS was the place to be if you were diagnosed with multiple myeloma,” she said.

“We’ve been overwhelmed by the quality of care we’ve gotten and the hospitality we’ve received.”

Morgan refers to Bart Barlogie, M.D., Ph.D., director of the Myeloma Institute who founded the program in 1989 and has seen more than 8,000 patients from every state and more than 40 foreign countries. She also credits the institute’s Bonnie Jenkins, R.N., for her expertise in handling the various situations that have arisen during her treatment.

“Our experience at UAMS has been excellent, and we can’t say enough positive things about the treatment we’ve received and the time we’ve spent in Little Rock.”

As for that trip to Spain and Portugal, Mona says she’s determined to fight through the disease and reschedule. “It’ll be even better after all this,” she said.

“I will never forget it,” Herman said. “We were blanketed with ice and snow, and I had to wait several weeks. That was agonizing.”

Herman, now 60, had decided in 1996 to get an annual prostate exam, primarily because he noticed that his wife, Bobette, was diligent about her own preventative health care, and he felt he owed it to her to do the same.

His PSA (prostate-specific antigen) score rose each year. In 2000, his doctor referred him to a local urologist, who performed a biopsy, and after Herman’s excruciating wait, told him he had prostate cancer.

That wasn’t the end of the bad news.

Herman and his wife met with his urologist who told them that the removal of his prostate would be severe. He could expect to be incontinent and impotent, and he could become paralyzed in his left leg, he was told.

“It was really a heavy session; we were just trying to absorb the weight of his words,” he said.
He went back for a second visit, and the urologist was emphatic. “He said, ‘You will have these side effects. We are concerned about saving your life, and we don’t do surgeries that minimize these side effects.’”

“But what I got was optimism and hope. That meant a lot to me.”

The urologist also encouraged him to seek a second opinion, which led Herman to Graham Greene, M.D., a fellowship-trained surgeon who came to the UAMS Winthrop P. Rockefeller Cancer Institute in 1997 and established a urologic oncology section.

“The diagnosis didn’t change, but the differences in the two consultations were amazing to me,” Herman said. “Dr. Greene said there are no guarantees; he was clear about that. But what I got was optimism and hope. That meant a lot to me.”

Like the first urologist, Greene recommended a radical prostatectomy. He also assured Herman and his wife that, given Herman’s age, good health and early detection, the condition was treatable. And, while he could expect some incontinence and impotence, the conditions would be temporary, said Dr. Greene, who has developed nerve-sparing surgical techniques at UAMS related to sexual function.

“Dr. Greene was right in terms of side effects,” Davenport said. He had surgery on April 4, 2001, and rebounded quickly, so much so that he was able to help his daughter move to Little Rock from Emory University in Atlanta the following month.

The predicted incontinence was gone in three or four months, and the sexual side effects were nearly gone in about two months, Herman said.

Today, Herman, a former Levi Strauss executive, enjoys traveling with his wife and running his community development consulting business. There’s no need for additional treatment, although he does have regular checkups at UAMS.

“Life is pretty much back to normal,” he said