Faced with a shocking diagnosis of stage II rectal cancer at 48, Holly Stockwell prepared herself, her husband and two sons as best as she could for a lengthy battle: four months of chemotherapy, two months of radiation and two surgeries over the course of a year.
What the Lancaster, Pennsylvania, resident wasn’t prepared for was just how important the hospital and cancer institute staff would be not only for her medical care but for her physical and mental well-being, pulling her from the edge of depression to rediscover the positive energy she would need to both heal and grow as a person after such a stressful experience.
“It was through the health care workers that I was able to understand the importance of the mind-body connection and how important it is to stay positive,” Holly said. “My doctor said, in his experience, people who have a more positive outlook have better outcomes.”
As Holly researched all things cancer, she learned this “make lemonade from lemons” philosophy was called post-traumatic growth, a theory that people who endure psychological struggle following adversity often see positive growth afterward.
“You do kind of realize that there is a whole lot worse that could be going on,” she said. “It puts life in perspective for people.”
Steeled with the resolve to remain positive, Holly shared her journey regularly on social media, hoping to convince friends not to delay routine cancer screenings.
“Don’t put off screening tests for yourself,” she posted on Facebook. “One of the reasons I went for the colonoscopy was because someone I know told their story and I realized it was better to know than ignore things too long.”
She chronicled good and not-so-great days, all made better by those around her at Penn Medicine Lancaster General Health’s Ann B. Barshinger Cancer Institute. She bonded with hospital staff during her hours-long chemo sessions. Staff members would stop by to discuss the latest Marvel shows, chat about their kids’ activities, share crafting tips, even offer to bring in lunch.
“The people I encountered were so kind and compassionate,” Holly said. “They would talk to me not just about my treatment but their own lives and made me feel like a person, not just a patient.
“One nurse had cancer as a child and now in her career, she just wanted to pamper you in that situation,” she recalled. “Everyone was so overly caring. It was a great first experience because, over the course of the year, the treatments get worse.”
She also drew inspiration from a friend diagnosed with stage IV cancer. The always-positive friend often stopped to visit and said, “‘I should be checking on you more.’” Holly remarked, “It allowed me to say if she can do it, I can do it.”
Holly made it through chemotherapy fatigued but without major side effects, which mostly allowed her to keep up with sons Henry, now 14, and John, now 12. While still volunteering, crafting and squeezing in remote work as a media analyst, she did rely heavily on her husband, Jeff, and a network of friends when her energy, appetite and spirits sagged.
Chapter two – radiation treatment – was a completely different story. Treatments were five days a week for short periods and Holly experienced all of the side effects she escaped with chemotherapy.
“That was the worst across the board,” she shuddered. “I lost a lot of weight, wasn’t eating, was in pain. I was miserable. Radiation is not fun.”
Despite her treatment visits being shorter, Holly said employees who recognized her from chemo sessions stopped to check in and offer comfort. “Everyone was always very kind and compassionate.”
Holly was more than ready for radiation to end and to undergo her first cancer surgery in September 2022. Reportedly the more difficult of the two surgeries she would require, Holly received a temporary ileostomy which allows waste to bypass the lower part of the digestive system. She made it through with flying colors.
“I did not have a hard time recovering from my first surgery. I credit my two C-sections,” she joked.
Fast forward to November and the second, allegedly easier, surgery to remove the ileostomy.
“I was prepared for an easy ride,” she said. “It was more painful than the harder surgery.”
After a few rocky days post-surgery, Holly was discharged, only to be readmitted several hours later after developing an ileus, which is what it’s called when intestines stop moving. Holly now found herself in pain, ordered to hospital bed rest, not allowed to eat, and with no idea when she might come home. To make it worse, she was supposed to start a new job, couldn’t fathom telling her new boss she didn’t know when she could begin and her sons were stressed out over the upheaval.
“It was super clear to me that I was horribly depressed about the situation,” Holly said. “I felt so helpless not just for myself but for my children who had been so strong throughout my treatment.”
It was during these darkest days that she was buoyed by hospital staff. From nurses to technicians to food service workers, they all helped her awaken that post-traumatic growth she had read about a year earlier.
“There were long stretches when I was all alone and these people kept me going. They were so amazing,” she said. “It was so depressing to be there for an extended period when I wasn’t expecting to. They were putting themselves out to me so we could make a connection. They would talk to me about every random thing in the world. It wasn’t just people coming in to check on me.”
Returning to the same floor with the same familiar faces eased her husband’s mind as well.
“She knows all the nurses already,” he said of their arrival during a nursing shift change, recalling one nurse in particular had a great attitude and sense of humor. When she arrived that night, “At that moment I felt a lot better about having to leave the hospital because I trusted that nurse and knew she was going to take care of Holly. It makes a huge difference when you have any kind of personal connection with the people taking care of you.”
Seven long days later, Holly returned home with a new outlook on life.
“I’m in a better place even though I went through everything that wasn’t awesome all the time,” she reflected.
As she marked her 50th birthday in January, Holly shared her Zen on Facebook: “I am truly grateful to be exactly where I am. And I’m thankful to God for giving me everything I needed this year. I used to worry about what was missing in my life, and now I can see all that I have.”
And that includes a health care team that was people-focused.
“I feel incredibly lucky to have had such amazing health care providers throughout my journey and I am grateful for the post-traumatic growth that I have experienced,” she said. “Even though the health care workers were stressed and overworked, I never felt like I was a burden to them.
“Cancer sucks but the people are awesome.”