Making Waves

Survivor of three different cancers spanning 30 years, Susan Helmrich finds solace in swimming. She talks to Renaissance about family, unnecessary body parts and beating her Olympic idol.

There were 13 of us. Strangers, brought together by a swimming holiday, in 2011. I was nervous, having never swum long distances in a pool, let alone the open sea. Would I be the worst? Lag behind the others? Intimidated, I began to guess who would be the best athletes. Two men, both over 6ft tall? The confident 18 year-old, long-limbed and slim? At least three seasoned holiday swimmers, knowing what lay ahead?  But I didn’t include Susan Helmrich in that group. No, she didn’t stand out.

Then I saw Susan swim. We all did, because in the race to determine our rankings for the swimming holiday, she was ahead of the group. Lithe, strong, petite, Susan sliced the Aegen Sea with clean, rhythmic strokes. No splashing. Always in the lead. Never out of breath. Smiling. Big, open smiles. Techniques and attributes that remained constant for seven sunny days, swimming island to island in the clear Greek Cyclades, clocking up daily 5km distances.

“I swim every day,” says the 62 year-old. “Swimming is my solace. There’s something about the feel of the water, the rhythmic breathing that, to me, is just magical. It’s a gift, because I wasn’t supposed to make it.”

In 2009, two years before the swimming holiday in Greece , Susan – then aged 53 – could only swim one lap of a pool. “I don’t remember my first swim after my first cancer when I was 21, but  I vividly remember after my next two cancers,” she recalls. “After the operation for the pancreatic tumour, I swam one lap and cried to my husband, saying that I didn’t think I would ever be able to swim properly again.” He reminded Susan of her first swim after cancer number two – a tumour in her bronchus, 11 years before. “After part of my lung was removed, I was very focused on my breath, forgetting that the muscles under my arm were also affected. It was so hard to even lift my arm, and yes, breathing was difficult, too.”

No kidding, with a lung partially removed. But this is Susan. In her blog, Susan lists the body parts she no longer has: a cervix, uterus and vagina (it was reconstructed using her colon); ovaries, fallopian tubes, appendix, gallbladder, bits and pieces from her lung and bowel; her liver has been rewired. Susan’s response? “You can live without these!” she laughs.

This was the woman who had brought her trainers and tennis racket to her first surgery for vaginal cancer, “thinking that while I was recuperating, I could hit some balls! Boy was I wrong about that!” Instead, Susan spent a month at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York after a 10 and a half hour operation. “The first time I heard the words, you have cancer’, I was 100% sure the doctor had made a mistake,” says Susan (then a college swimmer), of her first diagnosis in 1977. “My recovery was long, scary and very lonely. All of my friends were off on fabulous adventures like the Peace Corps, graduate school, etc.”

In 1998, married with children and living in California, Susan was diagnosed with a tumor in her bronchus. “The big difference this time was that I had two children aged eight and six,” she says. “I was terrified for them. Then the third cancer, in 2009, was truly a terrifying diagnosis because I thought pancreatic cancer was a sure death-sentence.” Apple’s Steve Jobs, who passed away in 2011, had the same cancer, during the same period.

“Each cancer was dealt with so differently. However, each time you hear the words, ‘you have cancer’ it is surreal,” says Susan. “You go into another place. For me, it was a determination to live. I approached each cancer as if I was going to get better.”

You see, for every missing body part, Susan will raise you a New York Marathon. A PhD. A record-breaking swim. “I think my most exciting swim was at the 2006 Masters World Championships when I beat my childhood idol, Olympic champion, Debbie Meyer, in the 400m freestyle. I was totally thrilled!” she says, those dark brown eyes twinkling at the memory. “After my Whipple procedure in 2009 I trained to compete in the 2011 US Masters Swimming Nationals. I came 2nd in the 1,650 yard freestyle and 3rd in the 500 yard freestyle.” In 2008. Susan became the co-director of Swim Across America, a charity that hosts swimming events to raise money for cancer research.

On the day we speak, Susan was unable to swim. “Just one day out of the water and…argh!” she screams, sticking out her tongue. “Swimming makes me feel alive, it challenges me, pushes me to the limits. But this is me. It’s my way of dealing with whatever is going to happen at the end. I’m a scientist, and I understand there are things beyond our control. I’ve lost so many wonderful, positive friends. I happen to be lucky.”

For all her extraordinary achievements Susan’s biggest prize is living a ‘somewhat normal’ life. “I really never thought that would happen after having a vaginectomy and hysterectomy at 21 years of age,” she admits. “Who would want to marry me? Would I ever have a family? Sex? But it all happened…and so wonderfully. I married an exceptionally amazing man, who totally gets me. I have two incredible children. The best days are when I get calls from both of my kids. Life’s simple pleasures.”