TALI FEINBERG
Exactly a year before, she had been enduring a chemotherapy treatment, known as “the red devil”, dripping into a port in her chest, as her veins had collapsed. “It is red in colour and it burns as it goes into your body,” says Stern, a lawyer from Johannesburg and a passionate member of the South African Jewish community.
Stern recounts discovering a lump in her breast. “I immediately knew it wasn’t right,” she remembers.
After urgently booking a mammogram, she was told the lump looked cancerous, “and from that point I knew I had cancer”. A biopsy would confirm the result a few days later: Stern had an aggressive form of breast cancer and needed equally aggressive treatment.
“The worst part was telling my family. You don’t know your prognosis; you don’t know if you’re going to die.”
Guided by an all-female team headed by oncology surgeon Dr Sarah Rayne, Stern decided from the get-go to be positive. “Ninety percent of this fight is in the head. Dr Rayne told me that this didn’t happen because of something I did or didn’t do. It’s just bad luck. And that’s the attitude I took. I never asked: ‘Why me?’ I just dealt with it.”
First off was a painful lymph node biopsy, followed by a lumpectomy to remove the tumour. Another one was discovered and removed. This was followed by reconstructive surgery and two aggressive forms of chemotherapy – one to kill the cancer and one to prevent it from coming back.
A third operation, with Stern under anaesthetic, was performed two and a half months later to insert a port for the chemotherapy treatment. This after Stern’s veins collapsed and “went black”.
In addition to telling her family, the lowest point of Stern’s battle was when her hair fell out. While on a business trip to Cape Town (she was still working at the time), Stern’s hair fell out on the plane, in the shower and onto her pillow.
“It’s incredibly painful as the chemo attacks your hair follicles. It’s way more traumatic than I anticipated. It’s part of your identity, and now you look like an alien.”
Although she wore a glamorous blonde wig and even got a wig made out of her own lost hair, Stern eventually embraced her bald head or wrapped it in colourful, patterned scarves.
Rituals and mantras were a key part of Stern’s strategy. She focused on being grateful – grateful that she found the lump early, that she didn’t need a full mastectomy, that she could tolerate the chemo, that she was being healed. “I decided I’m not going to do depression andanger.”
Every chemo session, she dressed in a theme or colour – from Lady in Red to Orange is the New Black. “You lose so much autonomy as a cancer patient, and choosing what I wore was one thing I could control,” says Stern.
With all her positivity, Stern still faced very low moments, and so a very special organisation stepped in. “I needed kosher meals while I recovered, and a friend suggested I call the DL Link. Although I was hesitant to ask for help, I’m so glad I did. Volunteers arrived with three-course meals, and from then on, they never stopped supporting me.”
The DL Link was founded in memory of Devorah Leah Levy, who lost her battle with cancer but had hoped to start a foundation to support Jewish families dealing with this disease. “After she died, her family took up this campaign. The DL Link now supports more than 700 families in Johannesburg dealing with cancer,” says Stern. It provides a host of comprehensive, professional and expert support services to cancer patients, their families and friends.
“The journey through cancer can be long, demanding and draining,” explains the organisation’s website. “The DL Link is here to share this very lonely burden and help families withstand this crisis. We involve and educate communities in caring for ill people and their families, embodying the ideals of compassion, kindness and caring for others inherent in Jewish life.”
And this is how Stern came to run the Jerusalem Marathon. In 2017, Dr Ivan Schewitz ran it as part of the DL Link team with Stern’s name on his back, taking every step in honour of her healing as a cancer warrior. “When I saw the photo, I called my best friend and told her: ‘I’m going to beat this and I’m going to run 10km in Jerusalem next year. Will you do it with me?’” She immediately committed to doing so, and two other friends also joined Stern in completing her goal.
After her last chemotherapy treatment on Erev Rosh Hashanah, Stern went on to have six weeks of radiation. Then she was free to go and rebuild her life. By now, her firm had forced her to take medical leave to focus on a full recovery, and Stern faced the strangely traumatic state of leaving her “cancer family” and returning to the “real world”.
Training for the marathon allowed her to make this transition. Although she had never run in her life, she joined running groups and worked with a personal trainer. “On my first run, I did 3.2km, and I just laughed! I couldn’t believe I did it.”
A few weeks later, she and the DL Link team landed in Israel, supported by hugely generous sponsorships and each other. Praying at the Kotel, she thanked G-d for her survival in the city of miracles.
Dressed in DL Link’s trademark red shirt, Stern ran the Jerusalem Marathon with Tanya Appelbaum’s name on her back – a brave fighter against Stage 1 ovarian cancer, who had her last chemotherapy treatment this week. “I also ran in memory of my cousin Chana, who lost her battle against cancer, and whose family cheered me from the sidelines.”
And so, she ran for her life, over the hills and valleys of Jerusalem, through the city itself, passing South African and Israeli flags. Although exhausted, Stern resolved to run, not walk, across the finish line. “That is what we Jews do. We live, we survive. Last year I had chemo needles in my veins. This year, I am running across that line. I survived from the ashes, I stayed the course and Baruch Hashem, I won.”
- To support DL Link, visit www.dllink.co.za
