My Journey with Farrah - Alana Stewart [9]
“Don’t cry, Farrah. You don’t have to do this radical surgery. There is a great surgeon here who has a different way of removing the tumor that won’t be as invasive and won’t result in a colostomy. Then we will give you a special antibody treatment and build up your immune system to prevent the cancer from coming back.”
Farrah felt much better after speaking with her, but she was still confused. No wonder. The doctors in L.A. are being so adamant that theirs is the only way.
“What should I do?” Farrah asked me, uncertainty in her voice. I understood; she was unsure about putting her life in the hands of some foreign doctors she had never met. Meanwhile, the doctors here were telling her that a very radical surgery was the only way to save her life. “I don’t know what to do,” she said.
At this moment, I know, she was not thinking of only herself but also of her family: How could she put her poor daddy through this when he’d already lost Farrah’s sister Diane to cancer in 2001? And Ryan: He is so attached to her. He can’t bear to see her suffer. Whereas I can be numb and emotionally detached when I need to be, Ryan wears his heart on his sleeve. Then there’s her son, Redmond. “My sweet boy,” she calls him. She worries about him so. I know it’s her son she’s concerned about the most; she wants him to have his mother for a long, long time.
I took a deep breath and thought hard before answering. Then I said, “Honey, if it were me or my kids, I’d be on the first plane to Germany.” I meant it. I truly believe they can help her there. From my stays at the clinic, I’ve seen how differently they treat cancer than in the States, and how effective their methods are. But I didn’t want to make the decision for her. I didn’t want to be responsible—God forbid I should convince her to do it and it ends up being a mistake.
“But,” I added, “you have to make the decision yourself. Ask God to show you the answer.” After we hung up, I prayed for God to guide her in the right direction, whether it was treatment in America or in Germany. But in my heart, I felt strongly that she should choose the latter. I find myself praying a lot these days; in fact, I have for the last number of years. I’ve also pursued many spiritual teachings: Al-Anon, A Course in Miracles, Kabbalah, Science of Mind, and the writings of Marianne Williamson and Deepak Chopra. Pain, fear, and anxiety have made me dig deeper and keep searching for answers to give me more strength and comfort through difficult periods of my life.
May 18, 2007
My birthday. Bren and Mel Simon threw me a big birthday party at their home in Bel Air tonight. It’s been a hell of a week, and I wasn’t feeling very festive. Farrah told me she really wanted to come and celebrate with me, but she didn’t know if she was feeling up to it. Farrah is always wonderful at showing up for friends’ birthdays or special events. In the years since we’ve been close friends, I don’t think she’s ever missed one of my birthdays or vice versa, unless one of us was out of town.
But this was different. The last thing she needed to do was to feel like she had to show up somewhere, especially with the whole world now knowing that her cancer had come back. People mean well, but the questions are so invasive, so draining: “How are you feeling? What do the doctors say? Are you okay?” I didn’t want her to be subjected to all that.
“Please don’t even think about it,” I said. “As much as I love you, I never for a second thought you could make it. You’re going through way too much.”
The party was fabulous in every way; their house was beautiful, the food was amazing, and everyone was having a great time. There were about sixty people seated in the party room downstairs, and dessert had just been served, when I looked up. There, walking into the room, were Farrah and