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Eddie, his wife Dianna (right) and
daughter Cassie enjoy the beauty of the Grand Canyon in
an early February family vacation.
By Deborah Turner
dturner@mckeniebanner.com |
"Survival, survival, survival. . . . It's all about
surviving," says McKenzie's Eddie Lankford, just barely
out of the woods some nine months after being diagnosed
with cancer.
It was his third saving grace, having lived through his
role as a soldier assigned to artillery in Vietnam,
where he participated in the 1968 Tet Offensive.
Home on leave, he was a passenger with buddy Mark Moore,
himself on leave from service in Korea, when a drunk
driver crashed into their vehicle.
"I didn't wake up for 19 days," Eddie marvels. "I had
just come home from Vietnam where several people in my
unit had been killed by rocket fire . . . I survived
that and now this.
"As Minnie Pearl used to say, 'I'm just so glad to be
here,'" he continues, straight-faced through the line
that is usually delivered with a hillbilly grin.
Born in Dr. Edwards' office downtown to Merrill and
Claire Nell Lankford, Eddie is a lifelong resident of
McKenzie and brother to Tom Lankford, an investigator
with the Paris Police Department.
The community was stunned last year when the affable
postman ceased his rounds. Always cheerful and
energetic, with a happy word for all, none would have
suspected he would fall victim to one of life's cruelest
twists: cancer. Shock gave way quickly to dismay that in
short order was assuaged with hope manifested in an
outpouring of love and prayers that strengthened Eddie
and his wife, Diana, during the uncertain days they
faced.
None was more surprised than Eddie, however, when he
discovered an English pea-sized lump in his neck while
showering in April last year. Looking back, he traces
his earliest symptoms to January.
"We had just had a wonderful Christmas enjoying the
family," he says. "Dianna and I had started to the gym
out at the hospital and I had lost a little weight and
was getting in pretty good shape. I'd just had blood
work done (in a routine physical) and everything was
perfect . . . but at the same time I'd just started not
feeling as good."
An early February visit to daughter Cassie—a 25-year-old
account executive with Hormel Foods who lives in Albany,
New York—was marred by exhaustion.
An appointment with his physician after finding the lump
did little to quiet Eddie's concerns, despite
reassurance that it was "probably nothing" and that it
had perhaps been there for some time, unnoticed.
"On the way home my inner spirit told me, 'Hey,
something's not right; you take a shower every day and
know every part of your body. That's not been there."
He sought a second opinion and was advised the lump
could be the result of an infection. A 10-day regimen of
antibiotics was followed by a round of antiviral
medication. Neither affected the growth.
He was referred to a surgeon, Dr. Compton, in Paris who
discovered a second enlarged lymph node "the size of a
butter bean", located below Eddie's left collarbone.
When the results of a needle biopsy were inconclusive,
the nodes were removed on May 20. Three days later,
Eddie says, "I received the news that every human dreads
and hopes to never hear: 'You have cancer.'"
Diagnosed with B-cell non-Hodgkins lymphoma, Dr. Compton
advised Eddie to choose a cancer treatment center for
further treatment. After the shock wore off, Eddie says,
"Me and my wife prayed for direction.
"Needless to say my world turned upside down pretty
quick," he adds. "The worst part of it was telling our
only daughter, who was alone over a thousand miles away.
I wanted to live for my daughter—see her married and
have kids—and my wife."
Within two days the couple was in Union City where they
met oncologist William Conkright, who ordered PET and CT
scans.
"Dr. Conkwright told me if the cancer had not spread to
other parts of my body, then I would have radiation and
would have a very good chance of a complete recovery,"
Eddie relates.
The results were ominous, though, fortunately, a bone
marrow biopsy was negative.
"I'll never forget that day," he says. "It was Tuesday
after Memorial Day that I drove to Jackson to pick up
the results of the scan. "Sitting in the car in front of
the diagnostic center my wife and I read the results and
were stunned as we read the cancer had spread to the
stomach area, right groin, and head of the pancreas. We
just looked at each other, speechless. We drove back to
McKenzie with all kinds of uncertainties entering our
minds."
Once home, they surrendered once more to prayer.
They chose Vanderbilt for a second opinion where tests
performed under Dr. Adetola Kassim in early June
confirmed B-cell lymphoma, stage 4. With aggressive
treatment, he had a 60 percent chance of recovery.
"I remember him saying, 'I'm going to make you one sick
man to make you one well man; we're going to hit you and
hit you hard.' After that second day of treatment I
agreed with him. Chemotherapy will take you down quick."
Six rounds of chemotherapy treatment was prescribed,
each consisting of two days of a proscribed regimen of
intravenous drug therapy, including the relatively new
drug, Rituxan®.
First approved in 1997 to treat certain instances of
low-grade or follicular, CD20+, B-cell non-Hodgkin's
lymphoma, it was one of three drugs Eddie says he was
administered on specific days of each round.
A Bardport was implanted June 20 at Henry County General
Hospital in order to allow easy access for intravenous
delivery of the chemotherapy. The following day, his
first treatment at the Purchase Cancer Center in Paducah
lasted three hours. The second half of round one was
administered in Union City over seven hours during which
he took Benadryl and Tylenol along with the
cancer-fighting agent. His temperature and blood
pressure were checked every 30 minutes.
The rituxan.com Web site explains the reason for the
precautions. Kidney failure has been reported as a side
effect of the rapid killing of tumor cells, as well as
severe skin reactions to Rituxan®.
Initial reactions to the drug typically include
shortness of breath, lung congestion, abnormal heart
rhythm, and low blood pressure. Stopping the
administration temporarily can reduce the reaction.
"After the second day, I had to wait three weeks before
I could take the chemo again to make sure my blood
levels were at a level to stand the drugs," Eddie
relates. "I started the treatments the first of June and
finished the six treatments the end of October. Then I
started back to work for two hours a day until finally I
worked my way back to eight hours a day just before
Christmas."
In the meantime, he had his hair cut off as it began
falling out by the handfuls, a complication of the drug
that Eddie describes as "little pac mans going through
the body looking for cancer cells and eating them."
He experienced a few mouth sores, another side effect of
the medication, along with the nausea that is a typical
misery of chemotherapy.
A PET scan in late August 29, after his fourth round of
treatments, added strength to his endurance of the final
two rounds when it revealed marked progress.
On November 14, PET/CT scans with contrast, performed at
Vanderbilt, showed no signs of cancer. His next check up
was scheduled four months ahead: Valentines Day.
"All the results were negative for cancer," Eddie
declares. "It was as good a Valentines Day gift as I
could have received."
If all goes as planned, two more every-four-months
checkups will lead two biannual and then annual
examinations toward the ultimate goal of being five
years cancer free.
"I want to give thanks and credit to God for his
wonderful healing power," says Eddie, who has for the
past several months been attending Long Heights Baptist
Church, along with Dianna.
The couple has been married for 38 years after meeting
in high school.
"I met my wife in economics class," says Eddie. Her name
at the time was Dianna Reynolds, daughter of Charles and
Ocie Reynolds.
"I sat behind her in class; her blond hair reminded me
of hay bailing twine," Eddie continues in romantic
reverie. "She said I could have a date only if I would
go to church the next night, so I went to church with
her and have ever since."
They married December 28, 1967, the week before he
entered the military.
Eddie in the summer of 2004 poses with
the cannon in McKenzie’s downtown park days after giving
the World War I relic a fresh coat of paint.
Eddie thanks continues, peppered now and then with new
names and organizations of those whose thoughtfulness
sustained him during his ordeal.
"One of the strongest supporters I have is my wife and
also my daughter, even though she lives over a thousand
miles away," he says. "I want to thank Dr. Kassim and
the entire staff at Vanderbilt and the Purchase Cancer
Group for the excellent care I received . . . and my
friends at the Post Office—they were so good to me and I
will always remember the kindness they showed with
cards, gifts calls and most of all their prayers. In
fact, the entire community blessed me with many cards
and phone calls. I received 100 cards the first two
weeks after I was diagnosed with cancer. I was on the
prayer list of many of the local churches as well as
churches in other communities."
The fact that he banked his sick leave at the post
office during his 20 years of employment was "a life
saver."
"All time I was off my checks kept right on coming," he
says with real appreciation.
Among others he mentioned are postal customers along his
route, and members of the American Legion and VFW, both
of which he is a long time member.
"I still to this day have people on my route say, 'You
just don't know how much it means to me to see you back
on your route', or 'You don't know how many prayers I've
said,' or 'It's good to see you.'
"It's just overwhelming to know people care about you I
really appreciate it."
Eddie has a new outlook on life, as well.
I try to look at the bigger picture; I try to look at
what means the most—family and a Christian relationship
with God," he says. "Things you thought were a thorn in
your side become insignificant. They're not even in the
realm of thinking about. You prioritize and I don't
believe a person who has been through it can understand
it. It's like being in a war zone: you can only really
discuss it with someone who's been there and done that."
He paraphrases from James 4:14, noting life is a vapor
that is here for a short time and then vanishes.
"People should take advantage of every minute," he says.
"I'd heard that saying all my life. We're just passing
through."
He was surprised to discover a community of cancer
survivors willing to lend a hand. "It's like a
fraternity," he says, amazed. "You give support as well
as get supported and I just hope there is somehow I can
emphasize that if people are having a problem, no matter
how small, have it checked out before gets too far
along. And if I can be any inspiration to anyone I would
feel I have accomplished something."
Chef Eddie prepares to create a culinary
masterpiece.
He is proud to be an honorary co-chair for this years
Relay for Life event in North Carroll County.
"I was honored and humbled when Kay Wood asked me to
serve as honorary co-chair. I am a living example of
what medical research has provided. Without the drug
Rituxan(r) the doctor told me I would have had a zero
percent chance of recovery."
Ironically, he and Dianna had already been involved in
Relay since 1998 as active members of the Relay team at
Manpower, where Dianna is employed.
He quotes statistics learned over those years that, over
a lifetime, one in two males and one in three females
will develop cancer. Nevertheless, he says, "I never
dreamed I would be affected by it. You just don't think
about it hitting you. That's why Relay and investing in
Relay for Life is so important. Cancer is the second
biggest killer—right behind heart disease—and I as one
of the honorary co-chairs really encourage everyone to
support Relay for Life."
Having gained back 48 pounds of the 35 he lost during
his illness (he laughs at the net gain), Eddie says he
hopes to get back to the gym soon.
In the meantime, he is once more enjoying life. In
addition to enjoying being out and about as he delivers
mail, he and Dianna have returned to one of their
favorite pastimes: traveling. They recently returned
from a trip to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon which they
enjoyed along with Cassie and her fiancé, Matt.
His favorite memento of the trip is a photo
commemorating the culmination of a lifelong dream:
riding in a NASCAR vehicle, three laps around the Las
Vegas Speedway at 160 miles per hour.
"That was the coolest thing I did," he says, smiling.
Eddie smiles following a 160 mph, three lap ride around
the Las Vegas Speedway.
Another favorite activity, begun just before he became
sick last year, is tending to his stock of 16 Japanese
Koi fish. The live in a lavish, 23 ft. long pool that
cascades through the Lankford's back yard amid a rock
and flower garden. The fish hibernate through the winter
in a cave that is 32 inches deep. Come spring, Eddie
hopes to train them to eat from his hand.
And he prides himself on his cooking ability, enhanced
by programs he enjoys watching on The Food Channel
second only to NASCAR.
"I'm a cook just like my daddy," he grins, touting
Rachael Ray as his favorite mentor. "That's one of my
fun things now, pretending to be a chef."
He enjoys taking an active role in his adopted church at
Long Heights too, and hopes in March to join a
four-church contingent of missionaries helping
rejuvenate the home of Lacye Spicuzza and her three
small children, whose husband and father, Paul, at the
age of 29 died of cancer. The Spicuzzas were among more
than a dozen Hurricane Katrina evacuees who found more
than refuge at Long Heights.
Like them, Eddie has been able to weather his own storm
thanks to a community of believers.
"I count myself very blessed to know the Lord Jesus
Christ is my savior," says Eddie. "Christ is my rock to
lean on during this time. God is good and I'm thankful
to be a child of God." |
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