Constable: Hats make Lindenhurst cancer patient better
Undergoing a typical cancer treatment of surgery and chemotherapy before starting radiation this week, Cathy Nilson of Lindenhurst prescribed an infusion of hats for herself.
"Some are funny. Some are gorgeous. And some are just plain fun," Nilson says of her hoard of headgear, which boasts cowboy hats, sun hats, stocking caps, baseball caps, fedoras, knit caps, fancy hats, fuzzy caps and one personalized creation topped with a giant green olive.
"That's a South Dakota Martini - a frosted glass, a bottle of Miller Lite beer and a handful of olives," the 56-year-old mother of three says with a laugh.
"I have 78 hats total now with more on the way," Nilson says, today's black Harley-Davidson cap hiding her bald head but not her beaming smile. Her chapeau cache, built by relatives, friends, co-workers, customers and even strangers, not only shows up in Facebook photos of her wearing a new hat every day, but it provides the perfect emotional accessory to her fight against breast cancer.
"She's handled this like a champ," says her physician, Dr. Valerie M. Nelson, a hematologist and medical oncologist at Northwestern Medicine Lake Forest Hospital. "When you have a positive attitude you're able to overcome the side effects and the challenges chemo poses so that you're able to do the full course of treatment."
Adjusting to her husband Todd's job transfer, her new job as office manager of H&H Graphics in Vernon Hills, and her family's move from Jefferson, South Dakota, to Lindenhurst, Nilson was painting their deck and shutters last fall when it hit.
"I had such a pain in my left breast it took me to my knees," Nilson remembers.
She got a mammogram on the day before Halloween at Northwestern Medicine Lake Forest Hospital. Her left breast was fine, but a tiny dot on the image of her right breast raised concerns. Nilson underwent a biopsy on Nov. 9, and two days later, "they told me I had cancer," she says. Surgeons removed the lump and one lymph node on Nov. 16.
New to the area, she built her own support group.
"I have three teenagers. They need to know that life doesn't suck," says Nilson, who created a Facebook page, asking her friends for hats to cover her head when chemo treatments made her hair fall out. "Something that would remind them of me, or would remind me of them."
She got a Boy Scout hat from the boys in Troop 188 of Le Mars, Iowa, who used to help her run special events when Nilson worked for the Sioux City Bandits indoor football team. The hand-knit cap with the "EPJ" was sent by folks at her kids' old Elk Point Jefferson school in South Dakota.
"This Stetson came from a cousin in Tennessee," says Nilson, who has received hats from nine states and can tell a story about each of them.
One cowboy hat belonged to a friend's late husband, who took on lots of tough critters during his career as a veterinarian.
"This one is from an absolute stranger at Woodfield Mall in Schaumburg," says Nilson.
Her daughter, Casey, 18, and sons Spencer, 16, and Trevor, who turns 15 later this month, enjoy their mom's hat collection. When Trevor nudged his mom to buy a new hat, Nilson explained that she didn't have the money.
"We're all in this together," said a woman shopper, who bought the hat for Nilson.
"It's contagious," says Jennifer Tepper, Nilson's nurse navigator at Northwestern Medicine Lake Forest Hospital. "Every single day, a new fun hat. This makes people feel happy and hopeful."
Laughter, of course, is not the best medicine. Cancer kills plenty of happy, fun people. But a positive attitude can reduce stress, which increases cancer risks, Dr. Nelson says.
"I hear there's a party going on," Nilson quips on her first day of radiation at Northwestern Medicine Grayslake Outpatient Center. Nilson wears a hat made out of aluminum foil.
"I need to protect those brain cells that fought so hard to stay alive in the '80s," she says.
Doctors are confident that they removed Nilson's cancer, but her sense of humor is contagious, Tepper says.
"We'd talk about the hats and laugh, and the people next door would start in on it," Nelson says of Nilson's chemo treatments. "That produced a bit of optimism, laughter and joy for people who didn't even know her."
Treatments often left Nilson exhausted and in pain. The skin on her hands and eyelids flaked off. "It's all just bothersome," says Nilson, who acknowledges that so many patients endure more than she has.
Insisting that her family return to South Dakota for Christmas without her, Nilson had her chemotherapy port inserted into her chest on Christmas Eve.
"My first chemo was on New Year's Eve," she says.
She'll finish her radiation treatments on May 23, the day after her daughter graduates from Lakes Community High School. Nilson says she expects to return to South Dakota for a graduation party on May 28.
Then she plans to donate all her hats to other cancer patients who need them.
"It really helps to distract you. Find a hobby. Find a support system. Grab a hat," Nilson says. "You have a choice every morning when you get up to be happy or grumpy. I choose to be happy. Life is better with happy."