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Working it out

contributed by Katie Vloet

A cancer diagnosis invariably impacts patients’ work lives. Three Rogel patients discuss how they dealt with work-treatment balance in times of uncertainty, how they adjust when plans change dramatically and how the flexibility of remote work can make all the difference.

When Jim Savage received one of his many cancer diagnoses, he thought: What does this mean for the massive greenhouse project I’m leading for my company, my family and my wife, Cindy? Heather Seyfarth’s diagnosis led to a plan for how she could work while receiving cancer treatments—plans she then had to change when immunotherapy took a heavy toll on her body. Melinda Fabry has continued to work, thanks to video meetings and understanding bosses, as well as short drives to radiation treatments.

Cancer touches every part of a patient’s life, and the workplace can be a source of comfort, a stressor, or anywhere in between. Three Rogel Cancer Center patients talk about their choices and plans—and what happened when some decisions about work were out of their control.

Extra Innings for a Workaholic

Artistic rendering of Jim Savage

Credit: Michigan Medicine

Jim Savage has nearly died three times—and was given last rites on two of those occasions.

“You’re an enigma,” his lead oncologist has told him, with wonder at all he has survived.

“You’re in extra innings, Jim,” another member of his care team tells him.

They’re right, Jim knows. He is grateful to still be alive, but he wishes for something more: he wants to return to family and work. “I don’t know how to relax. I don’t know how not to work,” he says.

Jim founded a company called U.S. Organics in 2019 and was in the process of planning for what would be the largest continuous greenhouse in the United States—62 acres under one roof near Kansas City, Kansas.

“Then, three years ago, I started getting dizzy on the job. I was working two jobs, at an electric company to facilitate projects and at the greenhouse,” Jim recalls. “I noticed myself getting real dizzy. That started the dominos.”

He has now had two melanomas, throat cancer, non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and a softball-sized tumor in his pelvis caused by the metastasizing of his lymphoma. “It’s been a tough road,” says Jim, 66. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t; and if not for God, my sister Karen, support of Cindy and my family, I wouldn’t have it.”

When he could no longer work full time, investors withdrew from the greenhouse project. “Investors get real squeamish about that. I don’t blame them,” he says. He had not trained a replacement and was the only person who knew all facets of the project, so the greenhouse project was placed on hold indefinitely.

In the early phase of his treatments, Jim and Cindy were living in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. He was receiving good care, he said, but his health continued to deteriorate, leaving him unable to walk at one point. The Metro Detroit native spoke with some friends who had received treatment at the Rogel Cancer Center.

“They said I should come here, and I knew U-M could do everything, A to Z,” Jim says. He moved north, lived for a while with his sister Karen and now lives on his own in an apartment 10 minutes from Michigan Medicine’s main campus. His wife has remained in Texas to care for her ailing mother.

Prior to founding U.S. Organics, Jim was a manager at the Discovery Channel and a serial entrepreneur who renovated historic homes in Cincinnati, researched and then sold LED lighting for greenhouses and car dealerships and did several other side projects and careers. It’s possible that he will never work again, but Jim doesn’t like to think about that. He can envision a time when his cancers are not advancing and when he has time and energy to spend more of it with his wife, children and grandchildren. “It’s truly a blessing to be able to do that,” he says. The future may bring other opportunities, and maybe an opportunity to consult with companies building greenhouses.

Jim wants to ditch his cane, the final walking assistance that remains after he was able to stop using a walker and then a second cane. He trusts that God knows what is best for him and has guided him throughout his arduous journey—but Jim also sends a request to the heavens for an easier road ahead. “I think, ‘God, if you want to turn this lesson off any time, that would be OK with me.’”

The Best-Laid Plans, Modified

Artistic rendering of Heather Seyfarth

Credit: Michigan Medicine

When Heather Seyfarth was diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma, she had just started working as director of housing and urban development with the Ann Arbor Housing Commission. She was devoted to her treatments, but also to the necessity of finding options for people in need of housing. She thought she could do both.

Heather quickly faced hurdles to her well-thought-out plan of receiving treatments on some days and working full or half days when she felt better. But since her treatments began last year, she hasn’t had many days when she felt better—far from it, in fact.

Diagnosed in February 2023, Heather thought she was in the clear when her melanoma was removed. Then, in July of that year, her lymph nodes swelled; she learned the cancer had spread to her lymphatic system and liver. Her oncology team started her on immunotherapy, which many people tolerate well.

“I went into the diagnosis very healthy for my age, and I had this fantasy that I’d go to my infusions and I’d go back and live my life,” says Heather. Instead, her body has tolerated immunotherapy poorly, and she has been back in the hospital many times. One side effect has been hyperthyroidism, which has led to problems such as hair loss. Where her hair has grown back, it is white. “It’s been quite a different relationship I have with my body. I feel like I’ve aged 20 years,” she says.

“Very few people have a really bad reaction to the immunotherapy I’m receiving,” says Heather, 51. “Unfortunately, I’m one of those few.”

Heather has taken all of her time under the Family and Medical Leave Act as well as short-term disability for the four rounds of immunotherapy and subsequent treatments, through early January of 2024. “My boss has been very supportive and wanting me to take care of myself,” she says. “But I’m experiencing a pang of guilt because I know she really needs help.”

As Ann Arbor property values have soared, housing has been in increasingly short supply. “It’s a position with a lot of responsibility. There’s no way to catch up with the need for affordable housing,” says Heather. “For me, urban planning is about building places that help people thrive.”

But she is not thriving, and Heather does not know how much of her job she will be able to do in the coming weeks and months. “It’s just a lot of decision trees and uncertainty,” she says.

Even on days when cancer has left her feeling depleted, though, she feels fortunate in some ways. Her colleagues have been supportive, and local friends and family have been endlessly helpful.

“I never thought I’d be that person who’d say cancer brings some blessings,” she says, “but I’ve been really moved by how everyone is offering support in whatever way they can. A lot of people are rallying for me.”

The Saving Grace of Remote Work

Artistic rendering of Melinda Fabry

Credit: Michigan Medicine

The day of her lumpectomy, Melinda Fabry worked. “I needed to keep my mind off things. You can’t eat, can’t drink very much. I had a couple of meetings that morning, so I went to those before I left for surgery,” she says.

Melinda, 45, is a merchandiser at Carhartt, a Detroit-founded workwear company, where she runs the business for flame-resistant and high-visibility clothing. On the day of the surgery, her meetings were held online—an accommodation that Carhartt and many others adopted during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic and that has continued to be part of many workplaces.

“Work just provided a little more normalcy when everything else was turned upside-down,” she says. “And most of the time, I felt really good, so I thought, ‘let me save that time in case I need to take more time off later.’”

A routine mammogram in early 2023 showed a tumor in Melinda’s breast, and a subsequent ultrasound and biopsy led to the diagnosis of invasive ductal breast cancer. In addition to the lumpectomy, she has had surgery for the removal of lymph nodes, four rounds of chemotherapy, radiation and physical therapy.

“I took a couple of weeks off for the surgeries and my chemo days, but mostly I worked through all of it,” says Melinda, who lives in Brighton with her husband, 10-year-old son and 16-year-old daughter. Adding to the relative ease of her work-treatment balance, Melinda was able to receive daily radiation treatments at Michigan Medicine offices in Brighton, allowing her to work on those days with only a short interruption.

Melinda wore a cold cap during chemotherapy so she could keep at least some of her hair. Still, she lost 60 percent to 70 percent of it, which created challenges for her on the days she worked at Carhartt’s Dearborn headquarters.

“I was also glad I was at home for most of that. The days I went in, I was very self-conscious. A lot of people knew, but a lot didn’t. Some of them would say, ‘Oh, you’re wearing your hair different,’” says Melinda. “My hair is very recognizable and has always been part of my identity, so it was hard to hear that.”

Working from home, she can disguise the hair loss more easily. In person and remotely, she sometimes wears hats—including Carhartt baseball caps—that allow her to feel more comfortable. Other times, she stays off camera during video meetings.

“My boss and everyone on the team were so flexible and understanding,” says Melinda, who has worked at Carhartt since 2002. “If I had to go in-person every day, that probably would’ve been a lot harder to do. Having the option to work remotely was my saving grace.”

Continue reading the 2024 issue of Thrive

Thrive Issue: 
Spring, 2024