My name is Marcia Francis. My Native American name is Falcon Rider. I am a descendant of the Little Shuswap band in British Columbia, on my mother’s side. My dad’s side is predominantly Scotch and English. I come from a sturdy stock of hard workers. I have three brothers and three sisters, counting myself.
Mom had two sets of twins back-to-back. There was a year and 10 months between twins. Both sets were a boy and girl.
My brother Mark and I were born prematurely in 1954, so we were put in an incubator. It was not known at the time that initially incubators allowed too much oxygen, which did damage to babies' eyes.
Mark's head was placed directly under the oxygen output. My head was down at the other end, so I did not get as much as Mark. Other than our vision issues, we led normal lives.
Cancer runs strong on both sides of our family, so we were placed in the high-risk category. My youngest sister had ovarian cancer, and then a few years later she had breast cancer. She has been cancer-free for a long time now.
My brother had prostate cancer but has been cancer-free for a long while. My mother had metastatic breast cancer that went to her liver, which caused her death. Mom had 15 years after her diagnosis, thanks to radiation and cancer drugs.
I was with my middle sister Jenny when I said, “You know we are blessed that we do not have any cancer.” Little did I know.
I have always been good about my annual checkups. The test results always came back fine.
I was having back pain, and consequently my test results revealed arthritis and degenerative disc disease. I was required to participate in physical therapy.
Years went on and I learned to live with the pain — even though I was miserable — and took over-the-counter pain medicine.
I moved to Yuma, Arizona, bought a house and got a job at the 99-cent store. My back pain got worse; I had pain in my hips, legs and feet. At the end of my shift, my back and feet hurt so bad I hobbled out of the store.
I was supposed to work the next day, but I had a horrible night. I felt like I was in a rotisserie; the pain was so bad! I called into work and told them I was going to the emergency room because the pain was excruciating.
The ER staff was afraid of a possible blood clot. They did a chest X-ray, saw something in it and ordered another test.
The bottom line is, after many tests that kept showing things in question, I got an answer. The doctor told me, “You have metastatic breast cancer. It has spread to your brain, bones and liver.”
I admit I was in shock, as that was the last thing I expected to hear. “How can that be?” I asked the doctor. All my yearly exams came back clear. The doctors were treating my pain as arthritis and degenerative disc disease, so the cancer had a lot of time to spread. I remembered how my mother died of metastatic breast cancer.
“You are in Stage 4 cancer and there is no cure,” they told me.
It took a few days to sink in. “You may have about six months,” I kept hearing in my head.
The scan showed 19 tumors in my brain. My family lives on the southern Oregon coast and I had no family in Yuma, so I moved back home.
I went to the cancer center in Coos Bay where the doctor repeated what the Yuma doctor said: “There is no cure as you have progressed to Stage 4. All we can do is possibly keep the cancer at bay.”
"How long do I have?" I asked.
“Let's wait and see how things go,” he replied.
I remembered how horrible it was for the cancer patients on the cancer floor of the hospital where I once worked. “Doctor, I’m not sure I want to go through with this,” I said.
I was reassured: "Marcia, treatment has changed a lot since then.”
My sister urged me to give treatment a try, and I finally agreed. I had 16 radiation treatments on my brain. Two or three months later, they did a brain scan. All the tumors were gone!
"God gave me a miracle!" I proclaimed. My doctor shook his head and said, "This is a miracle!”
That was approximately six years ago. Thanks to Jesus and cancer drugs, I am in remission for now. Every day is a gift from God. You think of death as somewhere out there, if you think of it at all. It's not until death is staring you right in your face that you appreciate time and life.
I live each day to the fullest, from a cup of coffee to doing what I love being out in nature kayaking as often as I can. Hiking those forest trails, helping in my church and helping others refuels me. I have written eight books, primarily nonfiction. I have a strong religious faith, as Jesus is beside me all the way.
I take care of myself and do the best I can. I know the cancer is there. I can feel some of the effects, but I am not going to sit on the sidelines waiting for death to come. All I can say is, "Catch me if you can!"
For those of you who have cancer, I would say if you don't have a relationship with Jesus, find out about Him and develop one. He has been a lifesaver for me and can be for you. Seek support through family, friends, support groups, your church family and what works for you.
Be proactive for yourself. Doing things for others gets your mind off from you. Don't sit and dwell. Try to keep a positive attitude.
There is a huge volunteer need. If you can't do a lot, call your local churches. There are a lot of shut-ins and people living alone, who would love a friendly phone call. Remember: Every day is a gift!
The North Pacific Union's ministerial department, Native Ministries Northwest, actively serves 23 churches with a combined membership of more than 1,500 Native believers. Its reach extends from the California border up the west coast of Canada to Barrow, Alaska.
Marcia Francis
