THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, December 18, 1994 TAG: 9412150196
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 10 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Cover Story
SOURCE: BY JOHN HARPER
LENGTH: Long : 146 lines
IT'S A TIME Ray Mann will never forget. He was fishing in upstate New York in April l987. It was a clear spring day when Mann first noticed he wasn't feeling ``quite right.'' His leg went numb. Routine tasks became difficult. Mann made arrangements to fly home to Wanchese.
On the plane, he slipped and fell. He had no feeling in one of his feet.
Once in Wanchese, Mann rested for a few days, hoping that being home would make things right. But things got worse.
``I couldn't even pick up a paperback book,'' he recalls.
An Army veteran, Mann checked into the Veterans Administration Hospital in Hampton, Va.
The diagnosis didn't take long. And it came to Mann sounding like an obscenity.
``A woman stuck a few pins in me and said you have a brain tumor.''
Mann couldn't believe it. He was 35. He hadn't been sick in years. Mann was tough. In his four years in the Army, Mann was part of the elite fighting corps: an airborne ranger. His toughness helped him get through what was ahead.
And now he shares his experience, his toughness, his knowledge with others battling cancer.
He was the first president of the Outer Banks Cancer Support Group Inc., which in the past three years has provided volunteer drivers who have logged more than 189,000 miles providing rides for cancer fighters.
Now the support group has 40 members, and 47 volunteer drivers who have made 1,182 trips with patients.
But when he was 35 Mann had no way of knowing what was ahead. A CAT scan at Norfolk General confirmed the diagnosis that he had cancer. Things moved fast. Four days after the initial diagnosis, Mann was on the operating table at McGuire VA Hospital in Richmond. Surgeons there removed the tumor.
The operation went well. Mann woke up feeling ``pretty good.'' There were some physical changes: a bald head with six drilled holes and paralysis on one side. Mann didn't know what to expect.
Mann told his pathologist not to beat around the bush. He wanted the truth. The pathologist's prognosis was bleak: the paralysis was permanent, the period of ``feeling good'' would last seven to nine months and death was no more than two years away.
For the first time, Mann cried. But the self-pity was short lived.
Mann focused on recovery. The doctors and staff didn't share Mann's enthusiasm. Brain operation patients were not allowed physical therapy. But Mann was determined. There were encouraging signs. Even though his arm was paralyzed, his hand functioned. A few days after the operation, the arm began working. Mann climbed out of bed and walked a step. Soon, he used the five flights of stairs at the hospital as a private stairmaster.
Mann stayed in the hospital for 6 months. He and his neurosurgeon shared long talks. Mann made remarkable progress, but his doctor was pessimistic.
``He told me I was going to die in two years,'' says Mann. ``We made a deal. If I made it two years, I would come back and beat his butt.''
Mann underwent 30 radiation treatments. Doctors of all sorts checked him. The cancer was gone. He came home.
Mann spent the next two years being checked out at least twice a month. He was clean. Two years and one month after the original diagnosis, Mann saw the doubting doctor at McGuire's.
``The doctors and nurses were standing at a booth in the hall. When the doctor saw me, he said `Oh, no there's that guy.' They even called security.''
Mann beat the odds. He whipped ``the big C.'' The first battle was won, but the war was on. A good friend, Alice Kelly, was battling Hodgkin's disease.
Kelly had formed the Outer Banks Cancer Support Group with Judy Ashley and Velma Lyons in January l989. Mann had seen the power of support during his recovery and knew that a support group could be a powerful force in the fight against cancer. Mann, Bubbles Daniels, Susan Noffsinger, Larry Gatewood and Rosa Hauck joined the group, which met on an infrequent basis.
In the summer of l989 Kelly - undergoing chemotherapy in St. Louis - became determined to get the support group more involved.
One of Kelly's objectives for the group was to provide transportation for Outer Banks' cancer patients needing chemotherapy in Elizabeth City and the Tidewater area of Virginia.
Up until the last few days of her life, Alice Kelly worked to that end. She died of Hodgkin's disease on Nov. 12, 1989. She was 35.
The group carried on, determined to fulfill Alice Kelly's dream. The support group decided to stage a fishing tournament to raise money. Alice Kelly had been an avid fisherman, and had been a member of two championship teams, the Nags Head Sea Hags and Sam and Omie's Billfish Babes. On Aug. 12, 1990, the first Alice Kelly Memorial Lady Angler Billfish Tournament was held.
The money raised helped establish The Outer Banks Cancer Support Group Inc. Alice Kelly's dream became reality.
Ray Mann became president, and free transportation was the first contribution made to others by the group.
The group has received a number of awards since its formation, most notably the ``The Governors Award for Outstanding Volunteer Service'' in 1991 and a ``Certificate of Appreciation'' from Dare Voluntary Action Center in 1992.
The OBCSG meets once a month at the Baum Center in Kill Devil Hills. On Dec. 6, 23 people attended the meeting. There was no sign that they have battled cancer. Most of the pre-meeting talk was about Christmas.
There was a lot of laughing and smiling. Judy Waits was there. So was Mann's wife, Beverly, a cancer survivor herself. One of the past presidents, Pat Murray, was present.
Mann, in his second tour of duty as president, called the meeting to order. The group discussed its first attempt at a raffle. It's a Christmas raffle and the hopes are high for a strong showing.
A tape of a radio show with group member Jerry Houchens on WVOD is played. It's a five-minute show and the performance draws applause.
The next 30 minutes are filled with testimonials and progress reports.
Most of the people at the meeting are cancer survivors. Some have family members with cancer.
A woman was there to help deal with grief brought on by the deaths of her parents, both from cancer.
There were tears, and prayers. It was not a pity party, but more of a family gathering. And on this night, a cause for celebration. It was Ray Mann's 43rd birthday.
``We can have our cake and eat it, too,'' said Waits.
``This is a support group that really works,'' said Pat Murray.``It's more about spirituality.''
``I know it sounds corny, but we are a family,'' said Beverly Mann.
They finally leave, but each member has a phone list and it is not uncommon for members to check on each other daily.
``It's something we encourage,'' Mann said. And he is living proof of hope for those hit by cancer.
``Think about it. I had brain cancer. Seven years later I'm still here. And I've changed. This is what the Lord wants me to do.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by DREW C. WILSON
[color cover photo
Patients Ray and Beverly Mann]
Jerry Houchens, vice president of the cancer support group, wields a
mean gavel at the meetings.
Ray Mann, left, presides over a meeting of the Outer Banks Cancer
Support Group where most of the pre-meeting talk was about
Christmas.
Ray Mann
Surviving cancer . . . 7 years later
Graphic
ABOUT THE GROUP
The Outer Banks Cancer Support Group meets the first Tuesday of the
month at the Baum Center in Kill Devil Hills at 7 p.m.
by CNB