Jill Rodgers didn’t know if she and her husband, Ryan, would make it back to their home in little Uvalda for Christmas this year. Ryan’s immune system was still on the mend.
“But we packed in faith,” just in case, Jill said.
She figured if they had to be somewhere else for the holidays, the American Cancer Society’s Hope Lodge on Emory University’s campus was as close as it gets to the feeling of family she has in their south Georgia hometown. On and off for nearly a year, through treatments to fight both their daughter’s cancer and Ryan’s, they stayed at the lodge. The couple donated money for a brick inscribed with the letters “HAFH.” Home away from home.
The lodge is both supportive and free for cancer patients and their caregivers while undergoing treatment in the metro Atlanta area. Referred by medical systems and centers, some people stay days or weeks. Others months. Some need to come back year after year.
Most of the residents at the recently expanded 57-unit lodge, which held a rededication ceremony on Monday, will get to go home to see family for the holidays. Others won’t.
That’s just another example of the many ways cancer sucks. And why places such as the Hope Lodge can become oases of stability for people who otherwise might feel adrift.
Designed for people who live more than 40 miles or one hour away, the lodge provides shuttles to medical appointments and grocery stores. Volunteers lead activities like making Christmas cookies or ornaments. Each unit has two beds, a sitting room and a bathroom. Downstairs are sprawling, fully outfitted kitchens, with separate refrigerator space and food lockers for each resident. There is an outside deck and grilling area, a billiards table, library, community TV room, piano and, propped against a wall, a community guitar.
More than half the residents are from Georgia. Others are from other states and nations, including Germany, El Salvador, the Philippines and Australia.
Staff members are welcoming, residents say. Fellow caregivers and patients often create bonds, laughing, praying or grieving together. One of about 30 Hope Lodges around the nation, the local facility often has a short wait list to get in.
Nearly 2 million new cancer cases are diagnosed each year in the United States, according to the American Cancer Society. Many are detected early and people can go through treatment close to home.
But 10% to 20% of U.S. cancer patients say they face housing barriers to their care, said Arif Kamal, the cancer society’s chief patient officer. Most of that is tied to distance from the medical facilities they need, including those offering cutting edge treatments, he said. Cancer can be financially devastating; about a third of patients with advanced stage of the disease will drain their life savings.
There also is an emotional toll. Half or more of patients going through treatment said they feel more isolated than they did prior to the disease, Kamal said. And when specialized treatment is far from home and the holidays come around, family and friends are often far away, too.
The Rodgers have spent most of the holidays this year at the Hope Lodge or in the hospital.
“Emotionally it is horrible. Because you are away from family and you have to face the reality of why you are there, and you face the reality of what comes next,” Jill Rodgers said.
First her daughter was diagnosed with head and neck cancer. They battled it, but it returned. Then Ryan was diagnosed with blood cancer after Jill felt knots in his neck.
Carmen, the Rodger’s 27-year-old daughter, passed away in July. Before she did, she mourned never again celebrating Christmas, her favorite holiday. So friends and members of the community decorated the family’s house and held a Christmas-in-July parade that drew people from surrounding counties.
Jill expects Christmas to be especially difficult this year.
Credit: Matt Kempner
Credit: Matt Kempner
Other Hope Lodge residents are drawing up their own plans. David and Sylvia Richterich, both 72, won’t be home watching fireworks for Christmas or gathering with family members. Instead, they eat meals in the Hope Lodge’s dining room with a Christmas tree.
But they are around people who understand what this new version of life is like. In that, there is comfort, Sylvia said. She calls the lodge “the holy land.”
David, her husband of 45 years, is receiving mostly free cancer treatment at the Atlanta Veterans Affairs hospital. They are far from their home in Guatemala where they retired after decades living in New Jersey.
At first they stayed at the Hope Lodge, but it closed temporarily early in the pandemic. David remembers struggling to find another place they could afford. They ended up at a hotel for seven months, but the couple burned through most of their retirement savings and piled up credit card debt. The hotel wasn’t a tranquil place, David said.
The Hope Lodge eventually reopened. Richard “Dick” Schulze, the founder of Best Buy and still the retailer’s biggest shareholder, spoke at a ceremony earlier this week to officially mark completion of the facility’s renovation and expansion, with five new units. Through his family foundation he was the major funder of rehab work on the lodge and about 11 others, and his name is part of the local lodge’s official name.
“It has been a real blessing for us to add a little bit of value for people suffering with cancer,” he said.
Schulze has a personal tie to the cause. In 2001 his wife of 40 years, Sandy, died of cancer in Minnesota. Her battle with the disease began around the Christmas holidays and lasted just six months. The family’s giving to the American Cancer Society is part of $1 billion the 81-year-old Schulze has pledged to give away while he is alive.
Credit: Matt Kempner
Credit: Matt Kempner
The Rodgers have more they want to do with their lives, too.
Both 51, they retired from their jobs as elementary school teachers amid the fight with cancer. Ryan endured chemotherapy and, late last month, a stem cell transplant at Emory. His immune system was clobbered as part of the process.
Doctors said they shouldn’t go home for the holidays if his bloodwork didn’t look good enough. On Tuesday they got the results: pretty good.
By that afternoon they were loading up to head back to Uvalda, about 15 miles south of Vidalia. They expect to relax. To grieve more for their daughter. To enjoy visits from family, including a Christmas breakfast and time with a grandchild.
Jill said they will return to their home away from home in February when Ryan gets follow-up scans. More treatments in the future are possible. But so is more living, Jill said.
“This Mimi and Papa don’t sit still,” she said. “We love to live. You got to live every day.”
More information about Hope Lodges as well as cancer is available from the American Cancer Society at www.cancer.org
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