Everybody's Got Something (21 page)

But how could I not go outside and say thank you? Thank you, and you, and you! Thank you for being here. Thank you for caring. Thank you for not forgetting about me.

Mandisa, one of my favorite singers, was our special musical guest and sang her hit song “Stronger.” The lyrics are so powerful:

Dorothy, Sally-Ann and I—the Sisters Three—had been holding it pretty much together until Mandisa brought down the house. Dorothy in particular lost it. She is by far the most sensitive of the three of us. She’s the middle child. It pains Sally-Ann and me that Dorothy is sometimes overlooked just because her two sisters are on TV. We are as proud of Dorothy as she is of us. She makes some of the jewelry that I wear on
GMA
.

All in all, I thought the show went well, but I realized I still had a long way to go, both physically and emotionally. To this day, I still can’t put on any weight because my metabolism is out of whack and will be for a year.

I was exhausted after the show. I was also so relieved my return was behind me. Afterward I had a lovely brunch with Amber, Dorothy, Sally-Ann and Phyllis at Sarabeth’s near Central Park. It was a chance for me to catch my breath, though I still didn’t have much of an appetite and was quieter than usual. Everyone else did most of the talking. I realized I was more tired than I expected, plus I was taken aback by the number of people who wanted to take pictures with us when we left the restaurant.

After brunch, when my sisters left for the airport, I didn’t break down and cry like I did the last time. Then I cried like a baby, like a two-year-old pleading for them not to go. I remember that I even rubbed my eyes like a bawling two-year-old. No tears this time; getting stronger, I guess. I hope.

February 21, 2013 was day two back at
GMA
. A member of the crew, Jerry, said yesterday felt like “welcome back” and that today was more like “welcome home.” It was more normal; it was actually the day I was looking forward to more than the day before. I was craving normalcy, whatever that is these days. It was pretty much business as usual. I felt a little more comfortable in the anchor chair. I just wished I could see the teleprompter better.

George, Lara, Sam and Josh were so incredibly supportive. They’ve shown our viewers how to care for an ill coworker. The show must go on, but my colleagues made me and
GMA
viewers feel as if I was there with them every day of my medical leave—that I was never far from their thoughts and hearts. They totally had my back.

And, of course, I know that my angels are always watching out for me, too. Before my medical leave, each morning, I would blow a kiss before walking out onto the set. “Morning, Daddy, watch over Momma.” Now, I blow two kisses. Before I say good morning to America, I say, “Morning, Daddy. Morning, Momma. I love you.”

I
spent most of 2012 fighting for my life and then amazingly, miraculously, I began to get better. I went back to work on a very part-time basis, but it felt so good to be back in that chair. It was still a struggle to keep my weight up, and I was still on too many medications to count, but all signs indicated that the transplant was successful. I had traveled so far on a combination of faith and science. As Dr. Giralt said when he inserted my chest with millions of Sally-Ann’s stem cells, “Let God do His work and it will work.”

As taking care of my health began to be less of a full-time job, other thoughts and concerns came flooding in. More than anything, I became aware that I had not fully grieved for Mom, and the wide range of emotions that I felt for her was almost dizzying. I recall going into her bedroom the day after she passed away and screaming, “Why did you leave me now?” I was so angry and scared. I’m not angry anymore—just incredibly sad. Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of her.

I began thinking that I should book an appointment with Dr. A, my therapist. She and I had last seen each other after I had beat breast cancer. I thought I’d be thrilled with treatment being over, but I became depressed. There was no one to check on me on a regular basis after I’d seen a doctor every week and gone through chemo and radiation for almost a year. But it turns out that the sadness I felt was common in patients who’ve undergone extensive treatments.

When I went to see Dr. A, she agreed that I had a wellspring of delayed grief and emotions concerning my mom. She also understood the transplant regimen and the intense recovery after: It took every bit of mental and physical energy I had to make it through the last few months. But after a couple of sessions with Dr. A, I became so emotional that I decided to wait awhile before seeing her again. I realized I still wasn’t quite ready to deal with the hurricane of grief that was tied up in losing Momma. She assured me that I would know when the time was right.

It was helpful that I already had a history with Dr. A. I first started seeing her after my dad died in 2004. Seeing a therapist is not a sign of weakness but rather an acknowledgment that you don’t have all the answers and you need help finding them. Plus I like the idea of a totally objective person. When you tell your problems to a friend, you may leave some things out because you’re embarrassed by what they might think. I find with a therapist you can be truly transparent. At times Dr. A has wanted to prescribe antidepressants for me, but I’ve always rejected the idea. I don’t think they’re wrong. They help millions of people. It just hasn’t felt like the right choice for me. I would rather meditate, exercise, eat healthy and get proper rest. And thankfully, that worked for me.

Many days I never left my apartment. I would use the time to catch up on e-mails and send thank-you notes. I was so thankful for the viewer who sent me thank-you notes with stamped envelopes. If you are wondering what gift you can give a friend or loved one at home on a medical leave, thank-you notes with stamped envelopes will be much appreciated. Since eating out was still dicey, Bugs inspired me to cook more at home. I saw what joy it brought her. I would make something simple like turkey spaghetti or broiled pork loin with roasted veggies. Amber has a lot of wonderful qualities; cooking is not one of them. So she also benefited from Bugs motivating me to get busy in the kitchen. I do set a mean table, complete with burning candles.

At the end of my first week back, Michelle Obama came to the studio for an interview. It was great to see her. She looked fab as usual with her new bangs. Petula had picked out a hairpiece with bangs when I returned to
GMA
, but it looked too much like Mrs. Obama—I didn’t want people to think I was copying her. So unlike when I had breast cancer, this time I decided to forgo the wig.

The interview with Mrs. Obama went well; it centered around her health initiative with kids. Master chef Marcus Samuelsson was also part of the interview. He is a genius in the kitchen.

After the interview we headed to the airport to travel to LA for the Oscars.

It was the first time I’d traveled that far after the transplant. I was a little nervous about being on the Red Carpet with so many people. But mentally I knew it would be a tremendous boost. One year ago at the Oscars I knew something wasn’t right, and here I was, back again at the Oscars. Almost like staring down MDS and saying, “You didn’t beat me!”

I had a limited role on the Red Carpet special. I wore a velvet cobalt-blue Marc Bouwer creation. The year before he dressed me in a slinky, white sequined gown. I found out at the last moment I would be able to return to the Oscars. And Marc came through for me. I interviewed Robert De Niro and his lovely wife, Grace, on the Red Carpet. I also chatted up the glamorous and talented Halle Berry. She was rockin’ a gown worthy of being a Bond Girl. It was a chance to thank her for the long camel cashmere robe she sent me. Disclaimer: I thought it was a long sweater. It was just so beautiful, I assumed it was meant to be worn out. Amber, who is much more fashion savvy than I, thankfully pointed out to me that it was actually a robe.

Sometimes people would caution me, not my doctors, but my friends and coworkers. They would say, “You’re doing too much. You’re doing too much.”

I just wanted to say, “Oh, people, come on,” because inevitably they would refer back to someone they loved and an illness they had. They would say, “When my son or daughter _____ [fill in the blank] went through this…”

Everyone’s different. I just know, for me, it wasn’t so much a goal of “I want to be back in that anchor chair.” It was more: I wanted to be well enough to return to my job, to the things that I love to do, to the places that I love to go, to the people that I love to spend time with. It was really that simple.

In hindsight, traveling to New Orleans and Mississippi, to Key West and then to LA for the Oscars in the five months after my transplant was a bit ambitious, but that’s still the only speed I know—full steam ahead. I didn’t go through all I did to sit on the sidelines—I wanted back in the game! Put me in, coach, I’m ready to play. Or so I thought.

I
t was early April, Final Four weekend, which meant Key West. My first vacation after my return to work. I had just filled in for Kelly Ripa on
Live! with Kelly and Michael
. I adore Kelly and Michael Strahan is the bomb diggity. He plays “Lovely Day” by Bill Withers in his dressing room before the show. It certainly is a lovely day with Kelly and Michael. I wasn’t feeling that well when Amber and I headed to Key West. Usually when we land, we hop in our rented convertible, cruise Duval Street and then stop at the gas station and pick up Dion’s Fried Chicken. But I was feeling so bad I just wanted to crawl into bed. Amber kept trying to get me to go to the doctor. I said, “No, no, no. I don’t want to ruin your vacation. I don’t want to ruin my vacation. I’m not sick. I’ll be fine. It will pass. It will pass.”

But it didn’t pass. Beth, one of my friends from Atlanta who also is one of the owners of our home in Key West, got to town a few days later. Like Amber, she was worried. I had brutal coughing spells. My toes would even curl and cramp, because I was just coughing so hard. I lost a lot of weight, went down to a rail-thin 115 pounds. A friend of Beth’s, Kim, flew in from Seattle to join us. We all grabbed a bite to eat in town and rode our bikes back home, as we always did. Kim and I made it back first, I doubled over coughing. Kim simply said: “I really don’t know you, but you shouldn’t mess with your lungs.” Amber and Beth had been after me for days, but a virtual stranger finally got my attention.

Tom Cibrowski, my executive producer, called me in Key West. I could barely put two words together without coughing. He immediately called Rich Besser, who called Gail Roboz. I had been e-mailing with Gail but not actually talking with her. She called me and asked what in the heck was going on. She could hear the difficulty I was having breathing and insisted I go see a doctor right away. Beth has been going to Key West much longer than I and is the honorary mayor there. She made some quick calls and got me in to see a doctor. We had no idea even where the hospital was in Key West, but we managed to find it. Everyone there could not have been nicer. They drew my blood and took chest X-rays. In our bathing suits we waited for the results. The doctor brought me and Amber into his office and called Gail. Even I could see how cloudy my chest X-ray was. I had “walking pneumonia” and needed to get back to NYC ASAP.

It was a bit of a mad scramble to fly out of Key West and back to my hospital in New York. Dr. Giralt and Dr. Roboz made alternate arrangements for me to be treated in Miami, just in case. By the time I arrived in New York, I literally crawled down the hall of the emergency room. I was just waving the white flag and saying, “Okay. Okay. Okay.”

At one point, I was just so angry. I feared that my illness was much worse than my doctors were letting on. I’d heard so much about your body rejecting the graft, the dreaded graft-versus-host disease. I feared my body was rejecting Sally’s cells and that my medical team was keeping something from me. Dr. Giralt and Dr. Roboz let me know, in no uncertain terms, that they wouldn’t hide important information from me and that moreover, there was nothing to hide. Dr. Roboz said, “It’s just that these viruses are very painful and not a lot of fun. No, everything else is fine.” I just had to start believing that it would be okay, and I did, slowly.

My illness in April was a real hurdle. But I have no regrets about going back to work when I did. I know it was very important for me—emotionally and psychologically—at that moment. Yes. I could have stayed at home and the illness in April still could have happened. My doctors were very quick to point this out. It was not a result of going back to work. I hadn’t been overdoing it. It was just one of those freak things. We all have these dormant viruses in us, and our bodies usually fight them off. These dormant ones decide to poke their head out and they see clear sailing and go to town.

I also had to admit to myself that I was…what is the word? “Noncompliant.” I wasn’t taking all the prescribed medications I should have been taking. I got a little cocky, felt I was doing okay and I didn’t want to take some of the medication. Especially one that was a thick, neon-yellow liquid. Yuck!

We should have done a piece on the show, because this happens with all kinds of people with all kinds of illnesses. You think that you’re okay, you stop taking your medication, you stop doing everything by the letter because you think, “I’m well.” No, you’re not. You’re well because you’re taking your medicine.

I’m willing to admit that I’m not perfect and the reason is because the mess that was my health in April has a message. I know that there are people who are reading this book who are on blood pressure medications, diabetes medications and so on, and sometimes you get a little bit comfortable and you start to taper off. But this is what my story is about: You can be cooperative and intelligent and aware—and you’re also human. It’s so easy to say, “You know what, I feel fine. These doctors are just being conservative. This stuff tastes yucky, I don’t want to eat this.” Right? How many times have you personally finished a course of antibiotics? Hardly ever. All of us are like, day three, day four—yeah, I’m good, I’ve got it.

Wrong!

Let me be clear. I learned my lesson. I now take every last drop of whatever it is that they tell me to take when it comes to my medication, and I’ve been better for it. Haven’t been hospitalized since April 2013. (Knock on wood.)

April was a horrible, horrible month. I was in the hospital for about a week, and it was the wakeup call I really needed. All I wanted to do was pick up the phone and call Mom. But I can’t call Mom anymore. Again and again, it comes to me. I’m a grown woman but when I am sick, when any of us are sick, we want our mommies.