Navigating cancer and COVID on a bus

Patricia Richardson felt scared every time she stepped foot on a bus during the winter of 2020. It was the height of the pandemic. So much unknown swirled around COVID-19 as it claimed the lives of immunocompromised individuals at alarming rates. 

A 54-year-old resident of St. Louis, Patricia had good reason to be afraid. She was battling Stage 2 breast cancer and commuting by bus to and from chemotherapy. 

“That’s all I know is the bus – I don’t drive,” Patricia says. “You do what you have to do.” 

On her way to treatments, Patricia wore two masks and carried a giant bottle of hand sanitizer in her purse, tucking her face into her shoulder anytime someone got too close to her on the bus. 

On her way back from chemo, Patricia often nodded off in her seat. She remembers the way other passengers looked at her —  like she was a drug addict. She could sense their judgment. She didn’t care at the time, though – she didn’t have the energy to. She was fighting for her life. 

“I didn’t know about other resources or anything like that,” Patricia says. “I knew that the bus fare was $1 and that I had to get on the bus. I didn’t want to ask anybody to take me. I didn’t want to feel like I was a burden for somebody else. I’ve just got too much pride.”

Fortunately, a case worker at the hospital where Patricia was receiving treatment took a moment to ask Patricia about her means of transportation. She then referred Patricia to Pink Ribbon Girls, where Patricia began receiving both free meals and rides to and from chemotherapy. 

After a long fight, Patricia is in remission, and she is beyond grateful for the potentially life-saving services she received from PRG during her greatest time of need.

“There was so much love and support there (at PRG) that hey, I can’t do anything but give love and support back,” Patricia says. “I'm here for a reason because the cancer is out of my body. I'm so thankful that the Lord gave me a second chance at life, and I’m so thankful for Pink Ribbon Girls.” 

‘I thought I was going to die’

Patricia has been through no shortage of obstacles. She survived a heart attack several years ago, which she says played a big part in shaping the person she is today. She began appreciating her life and relationships more after that scare. That keen attention to the people around her extended to her coworkers at the Goodwill in University City. 

“I'm the type of person who is going to talk to you, and I’m going to look you in the eye,” Patricia says. “Sometimes it makes people feel good, like, ‘Wow, there is a human on Earth that can speak to me while looking at me.’ That’s how I live my life.”

Patricia’s life took another frightening turn in October of 2020 when she found a lump in her left breast while conducting a self-exam. She never got mammograms because that would have required asking off work. Money was scarce in her household, which she shared with her boyfriend and 17-year-old daughter. This discovery, though, prompted Patricia to make a doctor’s appointment. 

Patricia got the call with her biopsy results several days later while she was at work. Her coworkers noticed tears welling up in her eyes after she hung up the phone – a side of Patricia they had never seen. 

“I let them know I got some news, and I told them what was going on,” Patricia says. “Their reaction was, ‘Oh, Miss Pat, you're going to be fine, you're going to be alright.’”

Patricia finished out the workday, but her coworkers’ assurances did little to ease her fears.

“It was like someone just snatched my heart out of my body,” Patricia says of receiving that call. “I thought I was going to die.”

‘All the fear just left me’

Patricia used the rest of her shift to think about how she would break the news to her boyfriend and daughter. Not wanting to be a burden, Patricia gave her boyfriend an out after disclosing her diagnosis to him. 

“I told him, ‘They say I have cancer if you'll be with me for the ride – if not, I understand,’” Patricia says. “He was like, ‘I'm going to be with you for the ride.’”

And so the ride began, and it was rough from the start. Compounding Patricia’s apprehension was her deep and long-standing fear of needles. She was terrified of having a chemo port placed under her skin near a large vein in her chest. The night before she was slated to begin treatment, she remembers letting herself have one good cry where she screamed and repeatedly asked God, “Why me?”

Patricia says she found courage not only through her faith, but also through her fellow cancer warriors undergoing chemo. 

“I looked at all my brothers and sisters who were sitting there at tables with machines and that needle in their chest – all of them taking it like a pro,” Patricia says. “That opened up my eyes, and all the fear just left me. I didn't worry anymore, I didn't think about the needle anymore.”

‘You ride the bus after chemo?’

That hurdle was the first of many Patricia was forced to overcome. She quit her job when the side effects of her treatment made working unfeasible. When the pain became too much to bear, she moved her bed out of the room she shared with her boyfriend so that she wouldn't keep him awake at night with her crying. 

“I had to make sure that he was comfortable – where he could have a good night's sleep and produce and bring home the paycheck,” she begins. “It was –” Patricia’s words drop off, her voice turning uncharacteristically shaky for a moment. “Oh, God, that was a terrible time. I wouldn’t wish that upon anybody.”

All the while, Patricia was taking the bus to and from treatments. She struggled to stay awake on rides after her chemo. Sometimes, she was jolted awake by other passengers’ outbursts, which often involved cussing or threats toward the bus driver. Those moments, Patricia recalls, were overwhelming. 

Finally, during one of Patricia’s appointments that winter, a caseworker asked her the all-important question: “‘Miss Richardson, how’d you get here?’”

Patricia’s response stunned her. 

“‘You ride the bus after chemo?’” the caseworker asked, incredulous.

“‘Yup,’” Patricia said. 

‘Stepping into a new life’

That’s when Patricia was referred to Pink Ribbon Girls. PRG provides free meals, rides to treatment, house-cleaning kits and peer support to individuals suffering from breast or gynecological cancers regardless of age, stage or socioeconomic status. 

PRG partners with Uber Health for rides. Clients are allocated 30 free round trips to appointments. Thanks to this service, Patricia no longer had to incur the great risk of contracting a life-threatening virus in order to access life-saving care.

“The Uber rides were so wonderful,” Patricia says. “They were good people – they were always on time. They were never late.”

PRG’s meal program was just as essential as the rides for Patricia and her family. With Patricia out of work, money for groceries was even more tight than before. She didn’t have the energy to apply for food stamps – an exhaustive process – let alone cook for her family. 

PRG’s meals are not only for clients but for each individual in their household. They are delivered weekly to the family’s doorstep and ready to eat in minutes. Patricia says she enjoyed all of the dishes, but her favorites were the zucchini and the macaroni. 

“The meals were awesome – I got a variety of different stuff,” Patricia says. “I just came home (from treatments), layed down and ate what little bit I could. They came in small containers where I could warm it up, eat a little bit of it, put it up and rest, then warm it up again.”

Patricia had surgery in June to remove the remaining cancer from her left breast as well as two lymph nodes from the inside of her left arm. After six rounds of radiation, Patricia got to ring the bell, symbolizing the end of her treatment. She was finally cancer-free. 

“To me, it was like the freedom bell,” Patricia says. “It was like I was stepping into a new life.”

Patricia will turn 55 on May 16, and she is coming off her final dose of chemotherapy medication. Now, Patricia wants to spread awareness about the importance of mammograms to individuals who, like herself before her diagnosis, don’t prioritize self-care enough. 

“I want to let people know, ‘Love yourself, and put yourself first,’” Patricia says. “God gave me the chance to be where I am – to not be complacent all the time, doing the same routine over and over. He had to wake me up – he had to strike me down so I had to think about my life.”

“It opens up your eyes and, today, my eyes are fully open.”