I'm Walking in Honor of my Husband, Rich Courtney

Two weeks later, on December 31, 2006, the lump from the “pulled muscle” had not gone away. As he was getting ready for New Year’s Eve on the Las Vegas Strip, he showed me the lump. He said, “what do you think about this?” I told him he would need to go to the doctor as soon as the holiday was over.

Rich went to his doctor who then sent him to a sports doctor who then sent him to another specialist. After being tossed around to different doctors, he had a biopsy done to investigate the lump. The doctor called us in for the results. He announced to us that Rich had a rare disease that would take his life.

We were floored. Rich turned pale white and could not believe what he had been told. We were married for 31 years. Rich and I were more than husband and wife - we were best friends. We didn’t have kids, we had each other. Life without Rich was simply unimaginable.

Luckily, 3 days later the doctor called us back in and said, “I have good news. The biopsy was misread. You have Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.” Although still a devastating diagnosis, lymphoma was a weight off our shoulders in comparison to the life threatening disease they thought he had. I can still remember the doctor putting his hand on Rich’s leg and telling him, “you will survive this.”

The doctors put a plan together to attack the cancer. Rich underwent chemo therapy from March until June. I stuck by his side the whole time, going with him as he got his treatments, even when he told me it was silly for me to be there since we just watched TV in the Dr’s office. It was tough and he got sick, but the lump was shrinking to where we couldn’t see it anymore. It seemed like the chemo was working.

At this point, things were looking good. Rich and I had no doubt that he would make it through this. However, the cancer came back. There was another lump under Rich’s arm which put us back to where we started at square one.

The doctors put together another plan for Rich which involved higher doses of chemo and a trip to California to get a bone marrow transplant from his own marrow. On August 24, 2007, Rich was in the hospital getting ready to take on the stronger chemo. Rich and I were in a room with the nurse watching a video about the treatments and side effects he would soon endure. Then something happened that can’t be explained. Rich forgot where he was and who I was. It was like his mind had left his body. The only explanation I got was from a nurse who told me “the lymphoma had taken over his body.”

Rich was in and out of it like this for three weeks. I was by his side the whole time, whether he recognized me or not. The doctor decided to continue with the intense chemo therapy to kill the cancer. But, after three weeks, Rich passed away. I held him in my arms as he took his last breath.

The only good thing about the intense chemo is that it allowed Rich to have one good day. Rich was coherent enough so we could have a real conversation. When Rich was going in to the treatments, we had no reason to expect it turn out the way it had. Because of this, we did not talk about what would happen if things went bad. This good day allowed us to discuss these things. Rich told me he loved me and I told him I loved him.

Now I, along with the Sun West Bank Team, will be walking in Honor of Rich, at the 2008 Light the Night Walk.

While Rich did not survive his cancer, The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society is making amazing strides. The 5 year survival rate for Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, has gone from 52% in 1987 to 63% in 2007. However, that is not enough. Our goal is 100% survival rate for all blood cancers. Through research, we will find a cure so people like Rich will survive. Please join us in our RELENTLESS fight against cancer by joining our walk team or making a donation.

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society supports research, patient services, and education. To learn more about these programs visit www.lls.org. Thank you for visiting my website and please help however you can.