When Eileen Campbell walks through the door, people know someone important just entered the room. She exudes a level of confidence found in those folks who have rubbed shoulders with major decision makers. Her focus, especially when it comes to anything to do with changing the face of breast cancer, is nothing less than razor sharp and penetrating. When she is extracting answers to difficult questions, she drills until she finds the answers. She’s held some incredibly significant positions as a lobbyist and now as Vice President of Public Policy for Marathon Oil Corporation. Her scope of knowledge is vast and the breast cancer world has benefitted greatly as a result.
My encounters with Eileen have run the gamut. I remember serving on the public policy committee for the Houston Affiliate Susan G. Komen for the Cure and meeting at Marathon. Eileen was in charge and agenda items were ticked off in record speed. We had our assignments; now we needed to get out there and get it done.
For almost two decades, Eileen has championed public-private partnerships to raise awareness of breast cancer and reduce barriers to early detection and access to care. Her crusade began in the mid 90’s when she joined a Houston Affiliate of Susan G. Komen For the Cure® race to support a co-worker. Over the years, her commitment grew, influenced both by her increased involvement with the Komen Houston Affiliate and her own experience with breast cancer. She convinced Marathon to be a presenting sponsor for The Race for the Cure. (And since Houston Komen is The Rose’s largest funder, we’re truly grateful for that!)
Eileen and I have had other encounters -- awards luncheons, fundraising events -- but I did not get to see another side to her until she donated one of Kelly Gale Amen’s masterpiece benches to The Rose. That’s when the woman who can quiet a room with a glance revealed herself to be a real “softy.”
Kelly’s benches are one-of-a-kind sculptured functional works of art. Eileen and husband Doug had purchased the bench at a Houston Komen Pink Tie Gala with the intent of giving it to The Rose. We had the perfect spot for it in our lobby (which was always too bare) and we looked forward to the day we would host a reception for the dedication.
Our event was intimate. Folks from Houston Komen, Eileen and her family, Board members of The Rose, physicians and staff gathered in the Resource Center. That was when I heard Eileen’s story. I knew she had waged her own battle with breast cancer but her telling of that time brought yet another dimension to this dynamic woman.
“During my treatment, I realized how lucky I was to have the support of my family and employer,” she shared. Like every survivor, she fought those very real worries about being around to see her daughters graduate and she gave examples of the many ways her family stood by her and supported her. During her treatment she wasn’t VP of Marathon, she was another woman facing a battle she never expected yet determined to beat this crummy disease. She spoke of hearing the stories of other women in the treatment room and even seeing one of our patient navigators by the side of a woman during chemotherapy.
Then she ended her speech, “I wondered how other women could possibly survive without insurance. No matter what, no matter how much family and friend support, if a woman doesn’t have insurance or some way to get the treatment, she simply isn’t going to live to see her family grow, to see a graduation, a grandchild.”
Her voice cracked at this point and she paused. “That is why I wanted to give this bench to The Rose. I am so thankful there is a Rose in our city. It is the safety net for some many, a place where no one is turned away.”
She reached over and hugged me, and we were both fighting back tears. The bench was dedicated and is now prominently displayed in our lobby. Every time I see a person using it I remember that hug and think how fortunate we are to have Eileen as a Champion.
She’s brought many gifts to The Rose including helping expand and improve our mobile services to corporations and businesses. But perhaps her best gift was her long-time friend Jeanne Gillen. Knowing that Eileen was ending her two-year term as president of the Houston Affiliate, I had reached out to her about serving on our Board. At first she didn’t reply. Then when she did, she hedged, talking about not wanting to make such commitment so soon and the increase in her workload. Of course, I was disappointed.
However, later at a Komen event when I was serving as the guest speaker, she nearly tackled me at the conclusion of my speech. “There is someone I want you to meet,” she announced.
She ushered me through the crowd and soon we were standing in front of a lovely tall, white-haired lady who sported an easy smile. The look in her eyes was a little guarded but quickly turned to curiosity as Eileen launched into her spiel.
“Dorothy, I want you to meet Jeanne! This is the person you need for your Board. She’s dynamic and would be great! Talk to her!” And with that final order, Eileen kind of pushed Jeanne toward me, turned on her heels and left.
Jeanne and I stood there for a moment. I don’t know about her, but I was a bit dazed trying to sort out what had just happened. Finally we smiled and started talking. Jeanne was everything Eileen described. Eventually Jeanne would become a part of the Board (she still teases about how we “dated” for a while…but that’s another story.) She even accepted the role of serving as the chair for our Silver Rose Gala steering committee. What a great addition Jeanne has been to our leadership, and once again, what a great gift Eileen has given to The Rose.
Dr. Mohamed Haq was a part of The Rose’s life before it was ever born. As one of the first, and for a while. the only hematologist and oncologist on staff at Bayshore Medical Center, his was a specialty unlike any others. Trained at M.D. Anderson, Dr. Haq opened his practice in Pasadena in 1980.
I remember when he joined the staff how incredibly gentle and kind he was, traits that have only grown over the years. He used to come to my tiny office in the basement and ask me to pull together slides for him. Looking back, I’m sure he struggled with moving from a large medical center teaching facility with all its resources and knowledge about the medical world of scientific lectures to a struggling, self-taught P. person whose real expertise was in creating news releases and brochures. As good as I might have been with the camera, I never mastered the nuances of medical graphs using Y and X axis, nor how to display them appropriately for his lectures. Patiently he returned with each blotched offering and explained what he needed. I would try again and somewhere in the middle we came together.
One of the few personal conversations I ever had with Dr. Haq at that time was when I was admiring his achievements and saying how much his family must be proud of him. He responded that in India, physicians are not held in such high esteem as the western world. There everyone is acknowledged and equal, whether their profession is as a doctor, engineer, teacher or even service worker. It was a strange concept to me, especially after being around so many physicians whose personalities (some would say egos) were as varied and large as their practice. But even then he exuded a sense of graciousness that has never gone away.
Dixie was already depending on him for all her patient’s oncology needs. They created quite a team and a genuine confidence existed between the two—obvious and reassuring to patients. I’ll never forget the time we opened The Rose when Dixie started our first support group. Dr. Haq was one of our first official speakers at that tiny facility. Remember it was only 988 sq ft and 500 of those feet were used for equipment and services. Twenty women crammed into the tiny reception area and Dr. Haq began his presentation. He projected his slides against an almost white wall which only distorted the images a little. The real trick was he had to arrange the projector on one side of a huge concrete column while he stood on the other. This column was positioned dead center of the room, partially blocking the viewing for most of the audience. I watched as people swayed from right to left, watching one side of the slide then moving to the other, trying to capture the full image as Dr. Haq lectured. Every soul in that room was totally absorbed in his words and his explanations.
Even after all these years, I still remember one thing he said about chemotherapy. He likened it to using “an atomic bomb to get rid of a gnat.” His tone was apologetic and sincere as he explained that chemotherapy was the best medicine had to offer right now and until there was a better treatment, it had to be used. The women in the room, heads bald, mouths plagued with sores, tired beyond tired, totally understood what he meant. When he finished, the women would crowd around asking questions, seeking advice. He took time to answer each one, even though it meant staying until late into the night.
Throughout the years, Dr. Haq remained our physician to turn to. He was the first physician who is was willing to take care of our uninsured women at no charge and helped us to establish the Physicians Network, now over 500 healthcare providers strong. It is difficult to fully appreciate what it means for him to ‘accept’ a patient into care knowing there won’t be reimbursement. Besides providing a staff to administer chemotherapy, he is committed to her for the full course of treatment—usually five years.
Later he headed up our Emergency Treatment Fund, developing the protocol and criteria for using donated funds to care for women who needed treatment but couldn’t qualify for any state or local program. He painstakingly reviewed every chart and every application, ever mindful of determining what treatment regime was right for the patient as well as what could give her the best chance for survival -- all within our very limited budget.
Colleagues refer to him as the “doctor to the doctors,” and his staff will tell you of his generosity, compassion, intelligence, and humility. (He’ll deny this but I have heard that he makes house calls.) His volunteer contributions to the community, his quiet behind-the-scenes work supporting worthy causes is legendary. Recently he started his own primary clinic, the Shifa Clinic on Highway 3 in Clear Lake to serve the needs of a broader and diverse clientele.
He has always had an eye and love for research and I believe that someday his theories will prove correct and bring revolutionary changes to cancer treatment.
Of all the stories I could share about Dr. Haq, perhaps the one I love best is the tradition he had at his office for the longest time-maybe it continues today. Whenever a breast cancer patient finishes her last chemotherapy, she is presented with a beautiful rose.
Their ‘thorny’ time is over and with their rose comes celebration and love.
This memory is one of 25 short stories written by Dorothy Gibbons, the Co-founder and CEO of The Rose, a nonprofit breast cancer organization. She and Dr. Dixie Melillo received the 501C3 documents for The Rose in 1986. A memory will be shared daily, culminating with number 25 on the day The Rose celebrates its 25th anniversary November 10.
© 2011 Dorothy Gibbons. All rights reserved.
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