American Cancer Society - Relay For Life in Braintree

Stories Of Hope

The Power of a Passionate Volunteer

When Chris McHugh was growing up in DeForest, Wisconsin, nice girls didn't bring up religion or politics. Then about five years ago she developed a passion for fighting cancer that has driven her to talk about politics almost every day since. And worse--she introduced a funny, but irreverent product line to raise money for cancer, which includes the popular, "I'm having a no hair day!" lapel button.

"They used to say a lady doesn't talk about politics and religion. I told my mother, 'Well, look at me now!'" Over the past five years, McHugh has seen first-hand how political achievements have made life better for people with cancer and they fuel her passion for the cause.

The "setback" that turned this busy hair salon owner and mother of two to volunteering could easily have sent her into a deep depression. At age 34, she was diagnosed with Stage IV inflammatory breast cancer. "When I was diagnosed they said I had a 30% chance of living a year and a half. But statistics are for the general population. They don't know my family or my faith," she explained. "I had to make a conscious decision (to choose hope)."

Treatment included chemotherapy and what she calls a "drive-through double mastectomy"--in and out of the hospital the same day. She points out with pride that insurance companies must now pay for a longer hospital stay. McHugh compares her return to a normal life to soldiers coming back from Vietnam. "I didn't know how to come back. Volunteering was a selfish thing at first—a transition for me back to normal."

The same year she was diagnosed, 1997, McHugh joined a small Relay For Life fund-raising walk in her hometown of DeForest (population 7,000). By 1998 she was marching on the mall in Washington, D.C. with other ACS volunteers to demand faster approval of cancer drugs.

She was one of only 8 survivors that took a lap in that first Relay For Life and remembers thinking, "Where is everyone else? Are they dead?" The event raised $18,000. McHugh threw herself into it for the next few years (between ongoing cancer treatments) and quickly boosted the take to over $100,000. This year more than 80 cancer survivors took a lap. This September McHugh also attended the ACS Celebration on the Hill in Washington, D.C. as an official ACS ambassador from Wisconsin.

Why Patients Wear Beepers at one Wisconsin Hospital

McHugh's buttons, "I'm having a no hair day," "Hair today, gone tomorrow," and "Cancer Sucks," brought laughter to the normally quiet chemotherapy waiting room. She joined the University of Wisconsin Cancer Center Advisory Board, the only patient member, and pushed for changes in patient care. "Time is valuable to patients. A 2-hour treatment used to take 8 hours to get. Now we have pagers so you can get up and walk away."

After seeing an 80-year old widower shuffled through treatment without a hug, a touch, or a smile, McHugh wanted to advocate for elderly patients who couldn't do so themselves. She organized workshops for doctors and staff about hope, love, and faith. She included the hospital's head doctor as a speaker and attendance was very good.

Sitting on committees, marching at capitols, speaking to dozens of groups may sound like bureaucratic drudgery to some people, but it's become extremely rewarding for McHugh, as well as a distraction from her ongoing battle with inflammatory breast cancer. To date she's had more than 50 rounds of chemotherapy, the double mastectomy, a bone marrow transplant, Interleukin-II injections, and Herceptin, a breakthrough in cancer medicine at the time.

"I was in Washington, D.C. in September 1998 with the American Cancer Society the day that Herceptin was approved," said McHugh. "It's been a miracle drug for me."

"Five years ago I was treated with 20-year-old drugs," said McHugh, who believes research can move more quickly with full government funding. "Molecular treatments are going to happen within the next 5 years and public policy must be in place now," she wrote on the web site for Choose Hope, Inc., the business she started with two friends.

A Cinderella Dress and a Dream

Two hundred people and a film crew joined McHugh on a Saturday night this November for her 40th birthday costume party. Her husband, Mike, started talking about the party soon after McHugh was diagnosed in 1997, as a goal for the future. McHugh didn't feel great that Saturday, she's back on chemotherapy again, but she threw on a Cinderella dress and a blonde wig and had a blast.

What are her dreams for the future? "Even if I couldn't make a cure happen, I would sure like to make cancer a treatable disease like diabetes," she says. In the meantime, she's working to get the Eliminate Colorectal Cancer Bill passed in the U.S. Congress. "We've finally come out of the closet and been able to say "breast," now we want to say "colorectal" without cringing."


Article date 01/23/2003