I’ve never had a biological sister, but I’ve had two sisters resulting from exchange student experiences and I’ve had four sisters-in-law. One of these is my husband’s sister, Sue Lyle. Ironically, Sue and I look somewhat alike. Sometimes when I visited my in-laws, their neighbors would mistake me for Sue. And at times when I called my mother-in-law on the phone, she would mistake my voice for Sue’s if I didn’t clarify who I was. We share other things as well … we both have a great love of life, of parties, of crafting, of gardening and home decorating, of the television show “Project Runway” and of Scotch! - though Sue favors Dewar’s and I favor Famous Grouse. We were both middle children with one older and one younger brother. Both of us had a brother develop a horrible and deadly disease – dementia. My brother died of Lewy Body Dementia December 2014. Her brother is now in the very late stages of Alzheimer’s disease. And we have something else in common. Sue is also the only “sister” with whom I share metastatic breast cancer. So this October I wish to honor my sister-in-law, Sue Lyle.
I’d been married just three years when a lump was found in my left breast. The doctor did not think it serious, so for a year he simply watched it. Twelve months later it hadn’t changed but I’d receive military transfer orders so just to be on the safe side, the doctor decided to remove the lump before I left. (NOTE: In 1993 it was common to simply remove suspicious lumps and then test them.) By sheer coincidence, over 1,000 miles away, sister-in-law Sue had a lumpectomy on the very same day. We spent days calling back and forth, anxiously awaiting our respective results. And amazingly we each received our results on the same day. I was off the hook. It was benign. But Sue had early stage breast cancer and it was aggressive. She decided to have a double mastectomy followed by a small amount of chemo that did not cause baldness. I visited her as she recovered. Her spirits were high. She lived in Florida and we went boating and enjoyed the sun and a few carefree days.
Sue loves life and lives it to the fullest. Soon she was recovered and just as busy as ever. She was a very talented dance instructor – tap, jazz and ballet. She started lessons when they were just tiny tots. They stayed with her two or more decades. Quite a few of her students went on to receive dance scholarships to colleges specializing in dance. Some won high level competitions out of college. Some became professional dancers. Teaching dance kept her fit, active and happy. Before long her son, Jim, married a lovely young woman, Beth, and together they had four children. Sue loved being a grandmother and quickly got the young ones into dance.
The years rolled along and in 2004 it was my turn to be diagnosed with breast cancer. It was stage II. The tumor grew underneath scar tissue from my 1993 surgery and was never seen until it spread and I found a lump under my arm. I did the full chemo, maximum radiation and went on Arimidex, but within 10 months I learned I had a fast growing tumor in my lung. I had metastasized. Sue, on the other hand, was still without any sign of recurrence. Following lung surgery, I got on track with treatment and have done well ever since. We were both back to a fairly carefree life as far as cancer went.
Then in 2013 Sue called me with the news. She had metastasized. It was 20 years after her primary. Would I come down, she asked? Would I see the oncologist with her? I flew right down. I liked the oncologist very much. She began treatment and for a short time everything went well. Then the repeated spreads and changes in treatments began. I did not doubt but that she had excellent care, but metastases do what they want to do.
Jim, Beth, I and the small number of others who knew of her situation were all sworn to secrecy. Sue had been on her own for most of her life and was fiercely independent. She did not want people knowing she was ill. It was very important to her that people were spared the concern; that people treated her as they always had; that she retain her privacy. We respected that.
When she shared with me recently that she’d decided to move in with her son and daughter-in-law I knew she had to be rapidly failing. She was. Over the past month she has been repeatedly in and out of the hospital due to fluid on her lungs and dangerously low potassium levels. Finally, last night, Sue decided it was time to end the secrecy. Those of you who are Facebook friends with Sue’s daughter-in-law Beth Klebosky Lyle will have read Beth’s Facebook posting on Sue that appeared today. I am so grateful that Sue has Jim and Beth. They’ve done a wonderful job of making her comfortable, seeing to her every need and making certain she is constantly surrounded with love. She needs that more than every at this point.
I don’t know why some of us recur quickly and some recur late. I don’t know why some metastases are more aggressive and others more latent. I don’t know why some metastases stop altogether. There is so very much we don’t know about this disease and need to learn so that we can end these senseless deaths. What I DO know is that the day is coming when Sue will no longer be in my life. And so here’s to Sue. “In honor of all the times we’ve spent together, I’ve just poured one short shot from the Dewar’s bottle I always save for you and one from the bottle of Famous Grouse I always keep on hand. I took a sip for each of us … and okay … I still prefer Famous Grouse! – but that’s okay. I’m still going to take a sip of Dewar’s every year on your birthday in your honor. Godspeed, Sue. I’ll see you again.”
