Meet Your Neighbor

Joey Gruetzmacher and Torrie Calkins

May 07, 2007

Honory Co-Chairs
2007 Sun Prairie Relay for Life

At first glance, Joey Gruetzmacher and Torrie Calkins appear to have little in common.

After all, the 70 years that separate them in age -- Gruetzmacher is 82, Calkins is 12 -- span at least two generations.

But while the decades may have set them apart in many ways, there is a common thread in the tapestries of their lives: Both know what it's like to live with cancer.

Sitting at Gruetzmacher's kitchen table one recent evening after meeting for the first time, the two shared their personal tales of a disease that does not discriminate by age or any other factor.

For Calkins, the first sign that something was wrong came on a family trip to Disney World when she was in fifth grade. "I had a lot of leg problems," she recalls. "I was really tired and we had to rent a wheelchair."

Soon after returning home, a doctor diagnosed her with leukemia, a cancer of the blood.

"It was confirmed on a Saturday and we basically had one day to decide what kind of treatment we wanted to use," says her mother, Ann, sitting at her side. "They wanted us to decide right away."

Calkins got started on her treatment, but soon another complication came into play -- a rare fungal infection in her lungs -- causing her to stay at UW Hospital for 57 straight days. Ultimately, she had two-thirds of her right lung removed.

During that period, she says, "I kept myself occupied by watching TV and doing crafts. I do painting and drawing."

For two years, "we were germ-a-phobic," says Ann Calkins. "When she was going through treatment we didn't have a lot of kids coming over to our house. We were constantly using hand sanitizer, constantly washing our hands.

"If there was the flu or strep throat at school, we'd pull all the kids out," she adds. "If somebody got sick we would either send them to grandma and grandpa's or quarantine them in our house."

As Calkins fought her leukemia, she stayed occupied with lots of healthy activities. Last summer, for example, she attended the One Step at a Time Camp in Lake Geneva. The program is for kids who have -- or who've had -- cancer.

"We had two morning activities ... games and arts and crafts," she explains. "And you would always go swimming in the lake. You had bunk beds to sleep in. You could stay both weeks if you wanted, but I only stayed one." She plans to go again this summer.

This time, though, she'll be going as a former cancer patient. Calkins received her clean bill of health on Feb. 16. "I was kind of excited, but it's kind of hard to believe that I'm done," she says, recalling the news.

To remind her of the challenges she's overcome, she has three strings of special beads, each piece symbolizing a milestone in her journey with cancer. Kitty beads, for example, represent her CAT scans; smiling round faces symbolize hair loss; and bones stand for bone marrow taps.

For kids facing similar strands of challenges, Calkins offers this important advice: "Just believe in yourself ... and don't give up."

In 1943, while working in a hospital during her senior year of high school, Gruetzmacher was kicked by a young girl she was helping change. The blow hurt enough that she went to see a doctor. As part of that visit, a tumor was discovered. A month later, it was removed.

The news of a cancerous mass wasn't all that surprising, given her family's history with disease, she says. Many brothers, sisters and even their children have battled cancer.

Gruetzmacher's experience with cancer wasn't over yet, though. In fact, the milestones from her decades-long battle are recorded on several sheets of typing paper she uses to trigger her memory.

In 1957, shortly before she got married, another tumor was discovered. While in the hospital, doctors found a second lump that had to be removed as well.

In June 1958, Gruetzmacher had her right breast removed after a double tumor was discovered. Eight years later, she had her second mastectomy.

"I'm pretty bull-headed," she says of the attitude that's kept her strong. "I had also gone through seeing all these others pass away. My family's all gone; I'm the only one left."

Some of it, she admits, just might be the odds. "I was lucky. I'm just plain lucky."

Gruetzmacher notes that she'd rather keep her health history personal, "but if I can help someone, that's okay.

"I don't want to go and feel sorry for myself," she adds.