“The first thing I thought about was:“ I haven’t given birth yet! ” “: Victoria Lyovkina on the fight against a malignant brain tumor at the age of 26

There are young people who, due to their age, do not really care about their health. I’m not one of those. As far as I can remember, I have always lived an active life, played sports, ate right and generally tried to keep myself in good shape. Nevertheless, if I did any examinations, they did not touch the head – simply because I never complained about it, did not suffer from headaches. Agree, it is unlikely that at the age of 26, without any preconditions, the thought of doing an MRI will visit you …

New Year’s Eve surprise

December 29 was the most ordinary day, I was at home and was doing the final preparations for the New Year, when suddenly I just fainted. I woke up already in the hospital – the doctors were taking me somewhere on a gurney. Like a movie – masked faces and flashing lights on the ceiling. Turned off again. I woke up in the ward, by that time I had a CT scan, which revealed a suspicion of a brain tumor. My mother was with me, she told me that I had two epileptic seizures at home.

It was already late evening, and in any case we had to wait until morning to at least clarify something.

Mom left, and I, left alone with my thoughts, was in a state of shock. I was injected with a sedative, but it did not work immediately. It was terribly scary. First of all, it was frightening that I could not protect myself in any way: at home I just fell sharply, which means that now something terrible could happen at any moment.

In despair, I managed to write to my friends that I had a tumor: I wanted to say goodbye. Only the next morning I realized what I had done, and hastened to delete my message. Of course, by that time many had read it, someone called my mother, and soon a noisy company was already in my room – with a decorated Christmas tree and gifts.

On the same day it became known that a full examination could be carried out for me already in the new year, namely, on January 3. I had to wait.

The prospect of spending the holidays in a hospital ward and in absolute ignorance was not encouraging, but thanks to my friends: there was not a day when someone did not come to me.

In life, I am quite calm and balanced, which helped this time too. I understood that I just had to wait, so I didn’t despair. In those days, I thought a lot about how my life will change now, what needs to be done and how processes need to be restructured so as not to lose my job and at the same time recover.

Don’t waste time

On January 3, I had an MRI scan, which confirmed the presence of a tumor in the right frontal lobe. She grew up for a very long time, but because of her location she did not touch any vital parts of the brain, so I did not suspect about her.

At the same time, it was possible to restore the chain of events and understand what happened. In the fall of 2019, I was ill with the usual acute respiratory viral infection several times, while working a lot, because of which the body was depleted. As a result, there was a swelling of the tumor, which made itself felt. The next few days I was given medications to relieve this swelling.

The preliminary diagnosis was “second or third degree glioma”.

They did not establish a benign or malignant tumor: I was immediately told that in my case an operation and complete removal of the neoplasm would be possible. In this case, histology is performed after surgery. 

Mom arrived, and I must say she held herself very well. Then dad and Marusya arrived (the current wife of Vladimir Lyovkin, – approx.Healthy Food Near Me), and the three of them came to my room – everyone’s faces are green … I understood that their mood was transmitted to me and it would not lead to anything good. Then I asked not to enter the ward with such faces again and assured them that everything would be fine. Moreover, we were immediately told that the tumor was operable.

Then I asked my parents not to hide anything from me. I understood that my dad, knowing more than me in this matter, can begin to solve matters without discussing anything with me, so I insisted on complete openness.

Recall that at the beginning of the 2003s, Vladimir Lyovkin was diagnosed with lymphogranulomatosis or cancer of the last stage of the lymphatic system. In 2010, the artist made a difficult decision, agreeing to a complex expensive operation. Fortunately, it was successful. In the mid-XNUMXs, cancer returned, but this time the artist managed to defeat the disease literally at the fourth stage.

I confess that I was worried that my parents would quarrel, despite the fact that they broke up a long time ago and, in principle, they have a good relationship. Just when it comes to a child’s life …

Fortunately, I was wrong. Everything has changed only for the better: this situation has brought our large family together.

On January 10, after a course of injections against edema, I was discharged. By that time, we had already decided on the clinic where the operation would be performed: it was important to act quickly in order to prevent new epileptic seizures and edema. Previously, the date of the operation was set for January 15, but it should have been confirmed (or canceled) only on January 13. All these days I tried not to think about the upcoming surgery and just got busy.

I’ll tell you a little about what I do. When I was still in my fourth year at the institute, I began to work at the Mosvolonter center, where I was involved in the development and implementation of training programs for volunteers. Then she worked for three years at the Moscow Production Center as a PR director.

I liked my work, but never liked the office and the 5/2 schedule. As far back as I can remember, I have always looked for “ways to escape” from such a system.

Last summer I made up my mind and went to freelance.

I have two higher educations – a youth work organizer and a counselor psychologist. Now I combine these two areas: I have my own IP for organizing events, I also develop and conduct forums and various trips for young people, I conduct trainings on soft-skills. (important skills for building a successful career, – approx. Healthy Food Near Me)… In short, there are many interesting projects, and even more plans.

At that time, before the operation, I did not know how long my history with oncology would drag on, so I tried to establish a working process so that in my absence everything would function as usual. 

The day of January 13 was the most difficult: I went to my previous job, because I simply could not be at home alone.

We have excellent relations with ex-colleagues, so we sat down mentally, they really supported me. At that moment, they called me and confirmed the date of the operation, and I rushed home to collect my things to go to the hospital the next morning.

Operation

On the spot, I met my doctor and began to ask him about everything: at night I specially prepared a list of questions and asked all of them. The doctor answered them, and I realized that he was positive. It is clear that no specialist will give you a 100% guarantee, but I did not ask for that. Rather, I was interested in the process of the operation itself – for my own reassurance.

On January 15, my mother came to me, and together we waited for X hour.

The operation was scheduled for 13:00, but they took me away only at 15:30. These 2,5 hours were the craziest: sedatives no longer inject, you can’t eat, relatives call and ask, grandfather is going crazy …

Finally they took me away. I was able to examine the operating room and was very surprised that my doctor was not in the room. They started to do anesthesia, but I didn’t quit: “Wait. And say goodbye to Alan Viktorovich? ” To which the nurse answered me: “Firstly, there is no need to say goodbye, and secondly, he will come only after 30 minutes, when the anesthesia will work.” I said, “Okay, say hello to him.” That’s all – I don’t remember anything further.

I woke up at half past eight in the evening – in intensive care. I felt so good that I asked: “When is the operation?” The nurse replied that everything is over and now I need to rest.

At night I already asked to be transferred to an ordinary ward: my mother was waiting for me there, and I knew that she was very worried. I was not allowed to call her.

As a result, in the morning I was still released, although according to the rules I had to spend 24 hours in intensive care. However, the doctors saw that I was feeling great and made concessions. I spent another week in the hospital recovering.

Soon the tumor was sent for histology.

I was hoping for the best, relying on my health, but alas. The exact diagnosis was as follows: third-degree astrocytoma, that is, a malignant neoplasm.

Zeroing

Before the operation, I had only the front of my head shaved, so it was very easy to cover it with ordinary bandages. I still walked with long hair, knowing that everything on the shaved area would soon grow back.

But when the results of the examination of the tumor came and it turned out that it was malignant, I was prescribed courses of radiation and chemotherapy. Thank God, the latter is in pills, and this is a more benign story. For six weeks, from mid-February to the end of March, I regularly went to the hospital for procedures.

This period was the most difficult: especially the first days and the entire second half. After I was discharged from the hospital, I felt good, but the rays and chemistry took away my strength every day, there was weakness, drowsiness, and nausea.

It got worse and worse as the therapy has a cumulative effect.

After about two weeks, I began to notice that my hair was starting to fall out a lot. And at the end of the course, I suddenly began to go bald. It was terribly unpleasant, uncomfortable: you walk around the house, and your hair is everywhere on the floor. And I decided to shave to zero.

I treated this as a change of image. In a sense, the situation was made easier by the fact that in April a self-isolation regime had already been introduced.

In addition, I understood that I needed it for my inner comfort. A peculiar point: that’s it, no more hospitals, chemistry and radiation therapy. It was a moment of re-realization.

Now the hair is slowly growing back – except for those places where there was a direct effect of radiation therapy. The doctors say that the hair there can start growing in 3-6 months after the procedures, so I don’t worry. I am comfortable with a short haircut.

Life after

I did the final MRI after all the manipulations in May. When I went to the doctors for the results, I really hoped that everything was fine.

Hopes were confirmed: I was given a conclusion about the onset of remission. Such a relief!

But for the parents, this was a particularly important moment. I can rely on my well-being, but they needed this document as confirmation and an opportunity to finally exhale.

Anyone who is interested in the financial side of the issue: treatment, all examinations, surgery and subsequent manipulations were done according to the compulsory medical insurance. Another thing is that you need to write to all authorities so that you are accepted on time, because there is every chance of getting into a big queue and missing out on precious time. It is very important to keep your finger on the pulse and seek prompt examinations. There are many good specialists: the main thing is to search, compare, read reviews.

In September another MRI is waiting for me, and now I am obliged to regularly do such examinations: for now – every three months, and in a year a new frequency will be determined.

Cancer, alas, is not cured, and there is a high probability that everything will happen again.

I am not afraid, but listen carefully and follow the recommendations, reinforcing the process with spiritual practices, an active lifestyle.

Oncology has definitely changed me. I’m happier, that’s the truth. Today I rejoice every day simply because I woke up. Fears have become much less, although there are some that did not exist before. For example, I have always loved adrenaline, extreme sports, and today I avoid them because of the potential danger to life. Hopefully temporarily.

I remember when I woke up in the hospital after fainting, the first thing I thought about was: “God, where am I being taken? I’m so young. I haven’t given birth yet! “

This is probably why there was no period of despair or resignation in my story: I knew that I would do everything in my power to defeat the disease. After all, I didn’t have time to do so many things!

For the last three years I have worked a lot on myself, talked with a psychologist, astrologer and other specialists. This helped me understand what I really want, find answers to important questions for me. So, I have already told how I quit my office job and launched my projects. She also improved relations with her parents, broke up with a young man, with whom we nevertheless remained friends. And when this whole story happened, I was in the resource. In addition, I saved money for an apartment, and the availability of savings also added confidence that I could handle everything.

The question “Why me?” in my head, of course, arose.

Again, communication with different specialists helped to find the answer. We came to the conclusion that I had to go through this in order to make a quantum leap, to go to the next level. This explanation suited me.

Perhaps that is why I began to talk about my illness. Oncology at a fairly young age is not uncommon, but it is incredibly difficult to accept the fact that your life is just beginning, and you are so seriously ill. Having gone through this, I want to share my experience, support, suggest something somewhere. Girls and guys of different ages write to me with similar stories, I have met some of them. We discuss the course of the disease, doctors, methods of treatment, fears, and I understand that these conversations “from the inside” help both sides. It is easier for them and it is easier for me. When you feel that you are not alone, you can do a lot.

Photo Shoot: @lyovkina, @ n.bsln / Instagram