I was honored to have the opportunity to implement the TAPA Board of Directors’ vision to create a philanthropic arm of our organization and form the Texas Physician Assistant Foundation. I am dedicated to the mission of the foundation and am proud of the work that’s been done since those early days and how we’ve grown.

It was also my privilege to have the first of many worthy President’s Philanthropic Projects. We have come a long way since that first fund raising auction with a couple of cases of wine and a few other items to the successful event we now enjoy. Funds raised at that first auction went to support the fledgling local chapter of the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition. My choice of project was deeply personal. Please read my newsletter article from 1998 about my dear friend, Cathy.

Cathy’s Legacy

Cathy was one of the best friends I’ve ever had. We first met when I invited her to share her experiences as a healthy sibling of two disabled brothers with a muscular dystrophy parents support group. She not only spoke for me many more times, but also became a frequent lunch companion and friend.

She had a great sense of humor and a warm, wonderful laugh. She was vibrant, funny, poised and beautiful. But her physical beauty was secondary to her inner beauty. The trials she had experienced in life – the divorce of her parents and the loss of two of her three brothers to muscular dystrophy – had only enhanced that beauty. She was a great friend, one of those who truly would listen and only offered advice when asked. She seemed to surround herself with people who were in need of her type of nurturing friendship. Our relationship was one of mutual respect.

Cathy was a devout Christian. She never wavered from her standards and waited until she found a good Christian husband before she married Jim at age 30. They began their new life together by moving to Denver, where he had been accepted into a graduate Christian counseling program. Jim originally had been rejected from that program because he had not experienced enough tragedy in his life – a statement that would prove to be beyond irony. Cathy soon discovered she was pregnant and gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Alyssa. At the same time, Jim completed his program and was ready to begin his career in the ministry.

Then she went for her postpartum checkup. Her doctor discovered an ovarian mass and rushed her to surgery. The news was not good. Cathy had stage IV ovarian cancer. She was told to get her affairs in order. Then, miraculously, a week later, all of the biopsy reports, except for one ovary, were negative for malignancy. The cancer was detected early enough to change her prognosis. One course of chemotherapy and life would return to normal.

Cathy had learned to treasure each day after her brush with death. She was enjoying her beautiful new baby. Jim had interviews across the country for positions in the ministry. Then one day she began to experience severe abdominal pain and distention. Her doctors assured her she needn’t worry - just adhesions. But surgery revealed widespread metastasis. Cathy was left with a colostomy and again told to get her affairs in order.

But Cathy did not give up easily. After all, she did not want anyone else to raise her child. She underwent radiation and round after round of chemotherapy. Her strong faith certainly wavered occasionally but sustained her through her fight. There seemed to be no trace of the cancer. I was amazed at how easy it was for me, the objective medical professional, to cling to false hope right along with her family and many friends. Certainly those five-year survival statistics could not apply to MY friend.

But, of course, the cancer returned. Cathy continued to fight for life but the sequelae of radiation and the cancer ravaged her body and destroyed the quality of her life. Catherine McMillin Rinehart died on February 16, 1995, at the age of 35.

When I viewed her body in the funeral home, I was amazed at what the cancer had done to my beautiful, vibrant friend. I never would have recognized her even though only six months had passed since I had seen her last. How could such a devastating disease have taken the life of such a good person? Why must her mother bear the loss of her only daughter? Why must any mother bear the loss of three children?

As I look back over Cathy’s struggle, several thoughts and questions come to mind. What support do women with ovarian cancer and their families have? Very little. The only choice of support group for Cathy was a breast cancer support group, for which she was grateful but did not meet her needs. What will happen to Alyssa? Will screening for ovarian cancer be adequate when she is an adult? Will she be forced to undergo a hysterectomy early to prevent dying young like her mother? Will she rush into marriage and children too soon so she can have that hysterectomy? Will she even be given the choice of having a hysterectomy, or will she be told not to worry as many women are today? Will treatment be more tolerable and more effective?

Alyssa will not have her own memories of her mother but will have to rely on the memories of others.

I still miss my friend. There are so many things I wish I could share with her. I wish I could tell her how full and happy my life is now. I wish she had been there to talk to when I had my hysterectomy so we could share stories about hot flashes and weight gain. I wish I could have heard her laugh the day I brought two left dress shoes to change into after working out and had to wear my tennis shoes with a dress all day. I wish I had spoken the words out loud of what her friendship meant to me.

I gave serious consideration to my choice of a philanthropic project because I believe it to be a statement for our organization as well as my presidency. Should I choose a disease that affects a larger number of people? Or would our efforts be more meaningful for a disease that does not enjoy widespread support? Ultimately my heart returned to my friend and her struggle. I dedicate the 1998-99 president’s philanthropic project to Cathy Rinehart and her family. I want and need to make an impact on ovarian cancer disease. This is Cathy’s legacy.