The second part of a two part series detailing Master Sgt. Keri Whitehead’s battle with breast cancer. This is taken from a feature piece originally published in this Airman Magazine. Click here to read part one of Keri’s War. And don’t miss the companion video piece run on Dodlive this past October 13th.
Master Sgt. Keri Whitehead
Keri’s War – Combat Photographer Puts Herself on the Other Side of the Lens in her Fight Against Cancer
Story by Randy Roughton
Photos by Master Sgt. Jeremy T. Lock
(Continued from part one…) Once her surgeon, Dr. Mark Fiedler, assembled her medical team, Sergeant Whitehead began her war on cancer. Dr. Fiedler performed a lumpectomy, which removed more than 35 percent of her right breast, followed by a mastectomy. The doctor removed five lymph nodes, three of which were cancerous, but each of another six that were removed were cancer-free. Sergeant Whitehead began her six-month chemo schedule in May 2010 and followed that with radiation in December.
Her mother, Leasa Tubbs, stayed with her in the beginning, but left between her first two chemo rounds because the sergeant had plenty of support from her squadron, from her commander, Lt. Col. Aaron Burgstein, to friends like Sergeant Colter and her roommate and friend, Tech. Sgt. Chrissy Best, noncommissioned officer-in-charge of Photo at Joint Base Charleston Public Affairs.While much of how Sergeant Whitehead handled her sickness came from her own determination, she also believes she benefitted from her Air Force career.
“I’d like to think the military has set me up for success from learning that sometimes you have to embrace ‘the suck,’ as we like to call it,” she said. “Then you have to come out the other side. You just have to do what you have to do to survive, whether it’s being sick or being in a deployed environment. Whatever is in you is going to decide how you handle something like this.”
Even with the sickness and side effects from the treatment and medications, Sergeant Whitehead purposefully continued her work and physical fitness. Her longest distance before her diagnosis was a 10-kilometer run, but she ran 8 1/2 miles twice before and after one of her chemo treatments. She would run the New Cooper River Bridge, also known as the Arthur Revenel Jr. Bridge, a 2 1/2-mile stretch that connects the cities of Charleston and Mount Pleasant on U.S. 17.
Sergeant Whitehead ran across and back over the bridge, a distance of 5 1/2 miles, and then ran further on another trip, a distance of almost 8 miles. Her goal is to run across the bridge and back twice, but had to put it on hold once the weather turned cold.
“The more physically fit you are, and the more things you can continue to do that you did [prior] to your diagnosis, the better you’re able to handle the side effects,” Sergeant Whitehead said. “I think anything you can continue to do that you did before you got sick is to your advantage because that’s going to make you feel normal.”
Throughout her entire ordeal, Sergeant Whitehead has taken charge of her situation whenever she could. When she learned her hair would fall out during chemo treatment, she didn’t wait for it to happen. She invited friends for a head-shaving party, as depicted in Sergeant Lock’s photos in the second installment of “Keri’s War.”
Even though she was fitted for a wig, she soon realized it didn’t seem necessary. Instead, she wears a bandana and never seems to miss her hair or the wig. “I rock the bandana,” she’ll tell you. “When it comes to the wig, I would try it on, but it just wasn’t me,” Sergeant Whitehead said. “I’m OK with the bandana. It works well for me and I like it. With the wig, it just felt like I was putting false information out there.
“I’m sick, but I’m not embarrassed by that fact. I’m not embarrassed by the fact that I have no hair. My hair doesn’t define me. Hair is just hair; it will grow back. If it were a hand or a foot, I’d have a problem with that because I need my hands and my feet. But I can live without the hair. I can’t live without the chemo or the radiation,” she said.
“I want my ability to not let the cancer define me to define me. To me, the cancer is like having a really bad cold that’s going to take a really long time to heal. It’s a blip on my radar. It’s going to be a really sucky year or two, and then I’m going to get on with my life.”
Sergeant Whitehead completed her radiation treatments, which were daily for five and a half weeks, in mid-January. Sergeant Lock told her the only problem she seemed to have with all she had endured in the past 10 months was when she was told she couldn’t wear deodorant for six weeks.
“Well, that and the permanent marker they insisted on using to make the alignment marks,” Sergeant Whitehead said. “Most people I talk to get little, tiny tattoos. Me, I get black, purple and two different shades of blue, and it’s not so small. Oh well, I guess there are worse things.”
She’s confident she’s beaten the breast cancer, but knows with her family history, there are no guarantees that she’ll never have to fight for her life again. But she’s not worrying about that now. Her hair is slowly starting to grow back, although certainly not quickly enough for Kassidy.
One day, Sergeant Whitehead hopes Kassidy can see “Keri’s War” and view her mother as an example — to use her fight with cancer as inspiration to overcome any challenges she meets in her own life. Sergeant Whitehead hopes “Keri’s War” can be Kassidy’s own personal lighthouse for whatever rough seas she might face.
Recent Comments