Cancer: a student's battle
FAMU student Tineisha Sulker chronicles her fight with Hodgkin's Lymphoma
Published: Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Updated: Tuesday, October 5, 2010 23:10
Kierstan Craft The Famuan
Fourth-year broadcast journalism student fights illness.
I've always been interested in writing stories and poetry about my life. Truthfully, I've just been looking for any way to tell my story and maybe even help others who may be going through some of the same things that I am.
It started in May.
At first, it was small: I was feeling tired a lot and I also noticed that there was a lump under my left arm. I was curious, but postponed my doctor visit, telling myself it was ingrown hair or just bad deodorant. July came around and the lump was still there, forcing me to finally consult a doctor. The doctors were just as confused, and sent me to do a biopsy. Two weeks passed, and I fell into a façade of calmness, telling myself that no news is good news.
Then the phone call came. My doctor called me into her office to give me my results. As I walked into the room, the tense, guarded look on her face made my heart drum quickly and loudly in my ears.
So many thoughts were running through my head about what she was going to tell me. Finally, after what seemed to be a million questions, she looked me in my eyes and said, "Your results showed that the lump under your arm is suspicious of Hodgkin's Lymphoma, a cancer of the lymph nodes."
I immediately started to cry. The only word that stuck to me wascancer. So many thoughts were running through my head. The doctor explained to me the details of this certain type of cancer and then she asked me to call my mother and let her know what was going on. She then said that she wanted my mother to come so she could talk to her in person. By the time my mom had arrived the next week, my entire family knew about my illness.
Family that I hadn't heard from since freshman year suddenly appeared, and my phone rang endlessly with cousins, aunts, uncles, godparents, all calling to ask if I was alright.
After a series of tests to decide what treatment I could be receiving, the doctor told me chemotherapy was the best option. The tears flooded my eyes again as I asked, ¨Will my hair fall out?" All he could offer was more uncertainty and doubt, eluding a definite answer.
The cloak of worry, frustration, confusion and anxiety that I had battled since my diagnosis, slowly festering and seething underneath my relatively calm exterior, finally surfaced and cloaked me with impenetrable, unadulterated fear as I walked into Tallahassee Memorial Hospital for my first session of chemotherapy on Friday, Sept. 24.
All I could hear were the side effects that could possibly occur during my treatment drumming in my head to the rhythm of my erratic, pounding heartbeat: complications with my reproductive organs, respiratory issues, hair loss to name a few.
When I finally made it to my treatment room, there was a comfortable cushioned chair that resembled a lazy boy in the middle of the room. Seven hours imprisoned in that chair was unfathomable, but real and present.
The first hour was consumed with preparation; with the doctor explaining to me the different medicines as well as having me fill out paperwork, including consent forms. The nurse finally inserted the IV into my arm…it was starting.
I didn't start to feel the side effects until that night. Nausea racked my body; I was throwing up constantly and my body was weak, too weak to even leave my bed.
It took four days for the symptoms to completely dissipate. My week of absence in school forced me to withdraw from school for the semester.
Even without the additional pressure of school, my life has a new set of rules and restrictions, leaving me feeling crippled.
The 180-degree turn that my life has taken makes me rely on my religion even more to provide sense and stability to my life. I've been praying every day. I've been blessed with great friends that have been looking out for me. But, I still just want it to be over. I want to go to class and worry about graduation and credits and parties and friends. I want to be me again.
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'Don't feel sorry for me. I'm OK'
Published: Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Updated: Wednesday, October 20, 2010 11:10
Clarece Polke The Famuan
Tineisha Sulker, a fourth-year broadcast journalism student from Brooklyn, NY, was diagnosed in June with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, a cancer of the immune system.
new outlook on this situation and her visits create such comfort in my life, needed now more than ever.
I was fooling myself when I thought it was almost over.
I received a phone call at 8:13 p.m. on Oct. 6 from my oncologist. "That biopsy we did shows that your cancer has spread," he said. Initially, my treatment consisted of four sessions of chemotherapy followed by radiation therapy. Instead, I now have to do 12 sessions.
My head began to spin and I immediately dropped to my knees and began to pray. I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my burning face. The thoughts of how I felt the first time I did one of the sessions ran through my head.
I recalled how horrible it made me feel and how sick I was and to imagine that I would have to do this 11 more times. The horrible feeling of waking up in the middle of the night, draining my body into a bucket by the side of my bed and feeling too weak to even get up and wash my face is not something I want to look forward to again.
After I prayed and dried my eyes, I called my family I told them the news. They all prayed for me. I allowed myself two days to dry my tears.
Crying and feeling sorry for myself would not help me get better any faster. If anything, I would make myself even sicker.
I realized that not only will I not be able to continue school for this semester, but I won't be able to start back until next fall.
My next chemo session was set for Oct. 8. I sat in the chair next to the blood pressure machine and the nurse came to draw my blood. Usually when I get my blood drawn, the nurse asks me if I'm ready.
Instead, she just came in, stuck me with the needle, drew my blood and told me to sit in the waiting area. From then on, I knew things were not going to go as planned today.
I tried to put that thought out of my mind as I heard my doctor call my name.
I walked into the doctor's office, mentally prepared because I knew what to expect. We discussed my extended treatment, among other things.
During our conversation, the nurse walked in with my blood test results. My doctor read them over then looked up at me. He said that my white blood cells were entirely too low to do a chemo session today. If they did, I would be extremely sick because of my weak immune system.
I went home and just lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling thinking to myself. I turned on my radio, put in my Tonya Stephens CD, took a deep breath and stared blankly at the ceiling.
My mind was racing with new facts, my life literally racing ahead in front of me. I knew that when this was all over, I would never be the same. I jumped out of my bed, reached into my drawer and grabbed a pair of scissors.
I stood in front of the mirror and a single tear slid down my face.
A new me is approaching and I want to be in control of some of these changes. I grabbed about six locs and held them to shoulder length.
Snip. I am more than my hair.
Slice. I will be cured and I will start a new life.
When I finally looked up, my locs were gone.
I felt a sense of relief and sadness at the same time. What have I done?
My beautiful locs, 11 years in the making, were strewn carelessly on the tiled floor.
I picked them up and placed them in my dresser drawer. Later on in life, if I ever decide that I want them back, they will be there waiting for me.
Right now, I just want to live and not just be that girl with long locs.
I spent the next three days in the house combing out the rest of my hair so now I still have at least shoulder length hair. I know that this journey is just beginning but I'm willing to keep fighting, because at the end of the day, this is still my life. I will continue to have faith and believe that my blessing is coming soon.
I will delete these thoughts of giving up and these tears of pain. No more will I break down because I am stronger than this. Smile and greet me with joy when you see me, don't feel sorry for me. I am OK and I will be fine. Thank you for your support and I love you all for believing in me and helping me through this.
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Holidays bring new struggle
Tineisha Sulker reports on her cancer treatments and plans for the holidays
Published: Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Updated: Wednesday, November 17, 2010 02:11
Kierstan Craft The Famuan
Sulker is entering her second month biweekly chemotherapy sessions as part of her treatment for Hodgkin's Lymphoma
The way I've been feeling and my treatments have been going, I didn't think I would make it out of Tallahassee to visit my grandmother in New Jersey any time soon. The trip was planned as a birthday gift, but I was afraid to book my ticket in advance before my treatment, without knowing how I would feel after.
So I waited.
I decided to wait until after my next treatment, which was Nov. 12. I booked the ticket for the 13th because I wanted to escape for as long as possible before my next session of chemo.
When I walked into the hospital for my biweekly session, I was optimistic about the treatment and my upcoming vacation. The waiting room was empty, so I was assisted right away. My vitals were checked, and I was prepared for my blood to be taken. This is when everything started to go downhill.
It took the nurse almost an hour of repeatedly pricking my arm to find my vein. Finally, a specialist was called in to insert the IV. My blood was taken and sent to the lab to get tested.
I sat and waited again, wondering why it was taking so long. I ran downstairs to the cafeteria to grab some food, feeling uncomfortable and somewhat awkward with the IV still inserted in my arm.
The nurse finally returned with worse news: my counts were too low. The last time my counts were low, it postponed my treatment to avoid sickness.
The nurse gave me an option of maintaining my treatment with a lower dosage, but I candidly asked her if I would get sick afterward.
I wanted to leave my troubles behind for just a little while, and my treatment could prevent that from happening. The nurse admitted she couldn't give me an exact answer, so my choice was easy.
I said no and postponed my treatment for Nov. 23. At that point, I was more than ready to leave the hospital and get home to finish packing for my 6 a.m. flight.
When I left, I tried to put all of what had happened behind me and focus on my trip. I had multiple offers for Thanksgiving dinner from friends in Tallahassee, but my heart wanted to go home to be with my family.
The holidays are meant to be spent with family and loved ones; it's the only thing I want to do.
My vacation in New Jersey has been amazing. It feels great to get away and catch up with family I haven't seen in years. I'm trying to take the advice of one of my newfound friends, Toronda Hinton.
"Try to forget about everything and just live for the moment. You've earned it," she said.
Thank you so much, Toronda. I will definitely try my best to do that.
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Musician releases new mixtape
November 17, 2011
By Tineisha Sulker
Your Capital Bureau
By Tineisha Sulker
Your Capital Bureau
In a world where it takes many people a lifetime to find their passions in life, Michael Terrell Brooks discovered his passion for music when he was 12.
He was born on Dec. 4, 1986, in Fort Pierce, Fla. He was advertised on television as needing a home. A family adopted Brooks when he was 3.
Brooks said he adapted to frequent physical and verbal punishment. “My mother used to whip me for no reason, sometimes,” he said. “I guess the stress of raising me was too much for her.”
At times Brooks felt that he would never make it out of that life. After being told many times by his mother he would turn out to be nothing, Brooks began to believe her.
Raymond Brooks, Brooks’ father and minister of Saint Holy Temple Church in Fort Pierce, said, “It’s impossible for a woman to raise a boy-child on her own. They have to have a certain type of discipline from a man.”
At 12, Brooks found his reason for living, music. He had a talent for singing and started in his father’s church.
Debra Mincey, Brooks’ aunt from Fort Pierce, said, “He would make music out of anything.” She said he was in love with his electric guitar and keyboard.
Brooks moved around plenty, struggling to leave the hard life he was handed, but on his journey he encountered a few troubles. Brooks turned to a life of selling drugs, stealing cars, and being with different women.
Brooks moved around plenty, struggling to leave the hard life he was handed, but on his journey he encountered a few troubles. Brooks turned to a life of selling drugs, stealing cars, and being with different women.
During his time of trying to find himself, Brooks learned he was going to be a father. He said he tried his best to set himself up to take care of his business but being as young as he was he didn’t really know how.
He eventually went back to live with his father in Fort Pierce. He said this was a life-changing move that lead him to where he is today.
His father, Raymond Brooks, said, “When he came to live with me I instilled discipline and positive thinking into him.”
Still staying positive and being there for his now-two sons, Michael T. Brooks, 24, has a new mix tape titled “No Pressure.”
To listen to Michael T. Brooks’ mix tape visithttp://www.datpiff.com/Michael-T-Brooks-no-Pressure-The-Mixtape.278378.html.
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Havana’s 12th Annual Pumpkin Festival Oct. 15
October 10, 2011
By Tineisha Sulker
Your Capital Bureau
By Tineisha Sulker
Your Capital Bureau
Oct. 15, Downtown Havana will close its streets to hold its 12th annual Pumpkin Festival.
The festival, which helps raise money for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, includes family fun—face painting, costume contests, pony rides, mechanical bull rides – vendors, musical entertainment, and a pumpkin patch.
“Last year there were over 15,000 people in attendance—not including their animal friends,” said chairman of the festival, Jim Kellum. Pets come in costume for a contest.
Pumpkins on sale in the pumpkin patch are from Native American farms in New Mexico and Arizona, said Kellum.
“The best part of the festival is seeing the kids have a great time every year,” said Tonya Roloff, secretary for the Pumpkin Festival. She has worked with the festival for five years.
The fun begins at 8 a.m., with a $5 all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast at Granny’s Frying Pan, 407 N. Main St.
At 6 p.m., the festival closes with a concert by Pat Jones and David Bowlin and the featured act Tobacco Road Band. Read about the Nashville sound of Tobacco Road Band athttp://www.tobaccordpromo.com/
Tickets are $5 for adults and free for children younger than 12.
To read more about events in Havana, go tohttp://www.havanaflevents.com/Events.html or contact Jim Kellum, 850-545-0824.
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