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Dr. Galen Martin was diagnosed and treated for rare bone cancer nearly a year and a half ago.
"I may look like a cripple, but I will not be an emotional one."
At his desk at the Miners Family Health Center, Dr. Galen Martin, relaxed and cheerful, didn't look anything like a "cripple." Yet he used the word freely, with a glint of humor.
Nearly a year and a half ago, he was diagnosed and treated for a rare bone cancer.
"I think there is a silver lining in everything that happens," he said just a few days after his clean bill of health.
Celebrating his first anniversary of what he calls being alive again, Dr. Martin recalled his "roller coaster ride with death."
He remembers clearly the MRI appointment that started it. After persistent discomfort in his left thigh, he scheduled the procedure during his lunch break, planning to return to the clinic to see his afternoon patients.
Instead, the MRI changed his life. Viewing the results, he knew immediately the giant tumor on his hipbone would take him on the ride of his life.
At his desk at the Miners Family Health Center, Dr. Galen Martin, relaxed and cheerful, didn't look anything like a "cripple." Yet he used the word freely, with a glint of humor.
Nearly a year and a half ago, he was diagnosed and treated for a rare bone cancer.
"I think there is a silver lining in everything that happens," he said just a few days after his clean bill of health.
Celebrating his first anniversary of what he calls being alive again, Dr. Martin recalled his "roller coaster ride with death."
He remembers clearly the MRI appointment that started it. After persistent discomfort in his left thigh, he scheduled the procedure during his lunch break, planning to return to the clinic to see his afternoon patients.
Instead, the MRI changed his life. Viewing the results, he knew immediately the giant tumor on his hipbone would take him on the ride of his life.
Subsequent tests verified the initial diagnosis. The tumor was an uncommon malignant cancer, chondrosarcoma, that does not respond well to chemotherapy or radiation. With surgery the only treatment, Martin had two options: Sever the leg or attempt to save it.
He chose the latter.
On Aug. 14, 2006, at the University of California, San Francisco, surgeons removed his left femur, knee, part of the tibia and some of the surrounding muscle.
As he recovered, the muscle loss proved his biggest problem.
"In physical therapy, I had to teach my brain to use my muscles differently," Martin said.
His wife, Janine, took two months off work to help during his therapy. Co-workers, clinic staff, patients and friends pitched in with help and prayers, Martin recalled.
He chose the latter.
On Aug. 14, 2006, at the University of California, San Francisco, surgeons removed his left femur, knee, part of the tibia and some of the surrounding muscle.
As he recovered, the muscle loss proved his biggest problem.
"In physical therapy, I had to teach my brain to use my muscles differently," Martin said.
His wife, Janine, took two months off work to help during his therapy. Co-workers, clinic staff, patients and friends pitched in with help and prayers, Martin recalled.
The meaning of Thanksgiving
At first Martin first refused to accept how his life had changed. Before he left the hospital, he was given the familiar blue handicapped sticker for his car.
He refused to take it.
"The little things I couldn't do were the most frustrating, such as getting on a ladder and changing a light bulb," Martin recalled.
As he began the path to acceptance - including the handicapped sticker for his car - the silver lining began to appear.
"Around Thanksgiving (2006), my family all got together and we built raised beds so it would be easier for me to garden," Martin said.
In the process of recovery, the doctor found deeper insight about his condition.
At first Martin first refused to accept how his life had changed. Before he left the hospital, he was given the familiar blue handicapped sticker for his car.
He refused to take it.
"The little things I couldn't do were the most frustrating, such as getting on a ladder and changing a light bulb," Martin recalled.
As he began the path to acceptance - including the handicapped sticker for his car - the silver lining began to appear.
"Around Thanksgiving (2006), my family all got together and we built raised beds so it would be easier for me to garden," Martin said.
In the process of recovery, the doctor found deeper insight about his condition.
"We need to deal with our challenges up front, by facing the facts, and not keep asking, 'Why? Why me?'" Martin said. "The important thing is to move forward and focus on the positive.
"I enjoy every day of my life now because it may be my last. There is about a 15-percent chance my tumor will return - and I wouldn't survive that," Martin said. He gets nervous when he goes in for his CAT scan every three months, he added.
"I live short life spans, then start all over again" every day, Martin added. "Life has taken on a completely new meaning."
In his practice, Martin finds constant fuel for maintaining a positive attitude.
"Every day you will meet someone who has more limitations than you have, but everyone's overall happiness comes down to a state of mind," Martin said. "What is important, you finally realize, is not your house, not your possessions, none of that.
"It is really your relationship with your family and friends."
ooo
Laurel Gavin is a writer and playwright who lives in the Grass Valley area. She has lived in the area for 22 years and has worked in the health care field.
"I enjoy every day of my life now because it may be my last. There is about a 15-percent chance my tumor will return - and I wouldn't survive that," Martin said. He gets nervous when he goes in for his CAT scan every three months, he added.
"I live short life spans, then start all over again" every day, Martin added. "Life has taken on a completely new meaning."
In his practice, Martin finds constant fuel for maintaining a positive attitude.
"Every day you will meet someone who has more limitations than you have, but everyone's overall happiness comes down to a state of mind," Martin said. "What is important, you finally realize, is not your house, not your possessions, none of that.
"It is really your relationship with your family and friends."
ooo
Laurel Gavin is a writer and playwright who lives in the Grass Valley area. She has lived in the area for 22 years and has worked in the health care field.


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