Latest news with #NorthwesternMedicineCanningThoracicInstitute
Yahoo
11-08-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
I Never Smoked but Was Diagnosed with Terminal Lung Cancer at 27. Here's How Doctors Saved My Life (Exclusive)
'I'm starting to resume normal life,' says Dean Comstock, after a shocking medical diagnosis and life-saving surgeryNEED TO KNOW Dean Comstock was 27 years old when he received the frightening diagnosis of terminal lung cancer A singer and runner, he had never smoked Doctors told him he could live up to three years through chemotherapy, but instead, he chose to undergo a rare double lung transplantIn October 2023, Dean Comstock developed a cough that wouldn't go away. Doctors thought it might be pneumonia or acid reflux. But in August 2024, the runner, musician and singer was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. He had never smoked. At the time, he was 27 and married to his high school sweetheart. They had just bought a house in Syracuse, New York, and were thinking about starting a family. Comstock was told he might live one to three years, having chemotherapy every three weeks. He asked if a lung transplant was an option, but was told it was too risky. "Unfortunately, the alternative was certain death," Comstock, now 28, recalls. Lung cancer is one of the leading causes of death in men and women, both smokers and non-smokers, Dr. Ankit Bharat, chief of thoracic surgery and Director of the Northwestern Medicine Canning Thoracic Institute in Chicago, Ill., says. 'People need to know that lung cancer can kill you even if you don't smoke." Bharat is a pioneer in lung transplants as part of a clinical trial known as DREAM. He performs transplants on patients with terminal lung cancer confined to their lungs. To his knowledge, Northwestern is the only place in the country that does this. Bharat connected with Comstock and, in May, performed a double lung transplant to remove his cancer. 'It was the only option,' Bharat says. 'Treatment had failed. He had received all sorts of chemo and immunotargeted therapy, and the cancer was rapidly progressing in both his lungs." Comstack is currently recovering in Chicago. He shares his story with PEOPLE's Wendy Grossman Kantor. I woke up one day and felt like I had a cold. I noticed a weird, dry cough but brushed it off. After a few days, I went to the doctor, and they thought it might be pneumonia, so they gave me steroids. After a couple weeks, it didn't get any better, so I was referred to a pulmonologist. They also thought it was pneumonia. I wasn't getting better, and I was slowing down. I had three jobs: I was a full-time production manager for a manufacturing company, a real estate agent, and my wife McKayla and I perform music at weddings and events. We met in high school — she was sitting at a piano and I asked her to play a piece of music I had composed. In May 2024, I had to quit my production management job because I no longer had the energy. In August, I got a lung biopsy. Six days later, they called me and my family into the oncologist's office and said, "Dean, you have lung cancer." I never smoked. I have never even held a cigarette or a joint. I said, "How bad is it?" And they said, "Stage four," and immediately I was like, "Oh my gosh, this is the end of the world for me. This is it." That was devastating. Honestly, my first thoughts were not really about me dying, but it was more about leaving McKayla behind. I thought, 'Someone has to be there with her, and that's supposed to be me.' I'm like, 'I can't abandon her.' Knowing my mom had undergone a double lung transplant in January 2021 for pulmonary fibrosis, my parents asked if it was an option. The doctor said, "That's not really done for cancer patients." So, I started a treatment plan of chemotherapy near our home in Syracuse, New York. Doctors said I would be doing what they call 'maintenance chemotherapy' for the rest of my life, every three weeks. I thought, 'This is awful,' but then I thought, 'Okay, if I have to go to an infusion center every few weeks for the rest of my life for a couple of hours, that's not too much of an inconvenience, as long as I get to live a happy life and I can deal with that." But eventually I realized that 'the rest of my life' really only meant a few years. They said, "Our goal is to keep you feeling healthy for as long as possible." I said, "How long is that?" And they said, "One to three years." And then I would be dead. Meanwhile, my parents didn't accept that a lung transplant wasn't an option. They're like, 'There's got to be a way.' My mom called the transplant team where she got her lungs and said, "My son has stage four lung cancer. Can you help him?" They said, "No, but Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago can." In November 2024, I called Northwestern's transplant team myself and left a voicemail. I told them I had stage four lung cancer and I really needed a transplant. They called back immediately. A few days later, the chief of thoracic surgery, Dr. Ankit Bharat, called and listened to my story. He said, 'This is your only option. I want to help you. I think we can.' I got a PET scan and a brain MRI around Christmastime and sent them in the mail to Northwestern and filled out more paperwork. I arrived in Chicago on Saturday, March 1. On Monday, I started three weeks of testing to see if I was eligible for transplant. By the time insurance approved the transplant, I couldn't walk 10 feet without being completely exhausted and out of breath. I needed three liters of oxygen continuously, every day, all day, and all night — just to sit on the couch. On May 8, I woke up and I needed 10 liters. I more than tripled my oxygen requirement, and by then I could no longer bathe or do anything, really. I couldn't even talk. On May 14, my coordinator at Northwestern told me to come in for a walk test to measure my oxygen saturation levels. I failed it immediately. I was rushed to the ER and admitted to Northwestern Memorial Hospital, and put on high-flow oxygen. The next day the lung transplant team called and said, 'Dean, we have lungs for you. Your surgery's tomorrow at 7:00. Do you accept?" I started laughing and I said, "Of course — I will take these lungs." The next morning, they wheeled me into this insane room; it was huge with all these machines and metallic tools that I assumed they were going to use to cut me up. They said, "Okay, Dean, here we go." I didn't even cry or feel scared. I was just ready for it because I knew it was my best chance to live. When I woke from the surgery, I wrote, "I love you," to my wife on a piece of a paper towel and drew a little heart. On May 17, they took out my intubation tube, and I was able to speak for the first time. I said, "Hi, everyone. I'm cancer-free now." I spent two weeks in the hospital and two weeks in a rehab facility. I was discharged on June 13. My wife and I celebrated our five-year wedding anniversary later that month. I'm still getting stronger. My legs are a little wobbly, but I average about a mile a day walking. I still have outpatient rehab three times a week, where I get stronger. These days, I have so much more energy. Before the surgery, I would sleep most of the day. I would wake up at 9 and need to take a nap by 10. I'd go to bed early, too. But now I can have a full day, and I'm starting to resume normal life. Before I got sick, I was always hustling, saying yes to everything, not really thinking about my own wants and desires. But now I'm going to have fun, because you never know when it's going to be your last day. I still have to get cancer screening every three months for the next five years. I just had my first one last week, and there's no evidence of anything cancerous in my body. I feel so lucky to be alive. You know in the Indiana Jones movies where he's in the tunnel and the wall is coming down and he's trying to get through? I just barely got to the exit. That's how I feel, like I just made it. Hardly anyone does. My wife and I will go out for a walk, and she will start crying. When I ask her why, she says, "I'm just so happy. I'm just so happy you're here." A GoFundMe was established to help the couple. Read the original article on People
Yahoo
11-08-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
I Never Smoked but Was Diagnosed with Terminal Lung Cancer at 27. Here's How Doctors Saved My Life (Exclusive)
'I'm starting to resume normal life,' says Dean Comstock, after a shocking medical diagnosis and life-saving surgeryNEED TO KNOW Dean Comstock was 27 years old when he received the frightening diagnosis of terminal lung cancer A singer and runner, he had never smoked Doctors told him he could live up to three years through chemotherapy, but instead, he chose to undergo a rare double lung transplantIn October 2023, Dean Comstock developed a cough that wouldn't go away. Doctors thought it might be pneumonia or acid reflux. But in August 2024, the runner, musician and singer was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. He had never smoked. At the time, he was 27 and married to his high school sweetheart. They had just bought a house in Syracuse, New York, and were thinking about starting a family. Comstock was told he might live one to three years, having chemotherapy every three weeks. He asked if a lung transplant was an option, but was told it was too risky. "Unfortunately, the alternative was certain death," Comstock, now 28, recalls. Lung cancer is one of the leading causes of death in men and women, both smokers and non-smokers, Dr. Ankit Bharat, chief of thoracic surgery and Director of the Northwestern Medicine Canning Thoracic Institute in Chicago, Ill., says. 'People need to know that lung cancer can kill you even if you don't smoke." Bharat is a pioneer in lung transplants as part of a clinical trial known as DREAM. He performs transplants on patients with terminal lung cancer confined to their lungs. To his knowledge, Northwestern is the only place in the country that does this. Bharat connected with Comstock and, in May, performed a double lung transplant to remove his cancer. 'It was the only option,' Bharat says. 'Treatment had failed. He had received all sorts of chemo and immunotargeted therapy, and the cancer was rapidly progressing in both his lungs." Comstack is currently recovering in Chicago. He shares his story with PEOPLE's Wendy Grossman Kantor. I woke up one day and felt like I had a cold. I noticed a weird, dry cough but brushed it off. After a few days, I went to the doctor, and they thought it might be pneumonia, so they gave me steroids. After a couple weeks, it didn't get any better, so I was referred to a pulmonologist. They also thought it was pneumonia. I wasn't getting better, and I was slowing down. I had three jobs: I was a full-time production manager for a manufacturing company, a real estate agent, and my wife McKayla and I perform music at weddings and events. We met in high school — she was sitting at a piano and I asked her to play a piece of music I had composed. In May 2024, I had to quit my production management job because I no longer had the energy. In August, I got a lung biopsy. Six days later, they called me and my family into the oncologist's office and said, "Dean, you have lung cancer." I never smoked. I have never even held a cigarette or a joint. I said, "How bad is it?" And they said, "Stage four," and immediately I was like, "Oh my gosh, this is the end of the world for me. This is it." That was devastating. Honestly, my first thoughts were not really about me dying, but it was more about leaving McKayla behind. I thought, 'Someone has to be there with her, and that's supposed to be me.' I'm like, 'I can't abandon her.' Knowing my mom had undergone a double lung transplant in January 2021 for pulmonary fibrosis, my parents asked if it was an option. The doctor said, "That's not really done for cancer patients." So, I started a treatment plan of chemotherapy near our home in Syracuse, New York. Doctors said I would be doing what they call 'maintenance chemotherapy' for the rest of my life, every three weeks. I thought, 'This is awful,' but then I thought, 'Okay, if I have to go to an infusion center every few weeks for the rest of my life for a couple of hours, that's not too much of an inconvenience, as long as I get to live a happy life and I can deal with that." But eventually I realized that 'the rest of my life' really only meant a few years. They said, "Our goal is to keep you feeling healthy for as long as possible." I said, "How long is that?" And they said, "One to three years." And then I would be dead. Meanwhile, my parents didn't accept that a lung transplant wasn't an option. They're like, 'There's got to be a way.' My mom called the transplant team where she got her lungs and said, "My son has stage four lung cancer. Can you help him?" They said, "No, but Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago can." In November 2024, I called Northwestern's transplant team myself and left a voicemail. I told them I had stage four lung cancer and I really needed a transplant. They called back immediately. A few days later, the chief of thoracic surgery, Dr. Ankit Bharat, called and listened to my story. He said, 'This is your only option. I want to help you. I think we can.' I got a PET scan and a brain MRI around Christmastime and sent them in the mail to Northwestern and filled out more paperwork. I arrived in Chicago on Saturday, March 1. On Monday, I started three weeks of testing to see if I was eligible for transplant. By the time insurance approved the transplant, I couldn't walk 10 feet without being completely exhausted and out of breath. I needed three liters of oxygen continuously, every day, all day, and all night — just to sit on the couch. On May 8, I woke up and I needed 10 liters. I more than tripled my oxygen requirement, and by then I could no longer bathe or do anything, really. I couldn't even talk. On May 14, my coordinator at Northwestern told me to come in for a walk test to measure my oxygen saturation levels. I failed it immediately. I was rushed to the ER and admitted to Northwestern Memorial Hospital, and put on high-flow oxygen. The next day the lung transplant team called and said, 'Dean, we have lungs for you. Your surgery's tomorrow at 7:00. Do you accept?" I started laughing and I said, "Of course — I will take these lungs." The next morning, they wheeled me into this insane room; it was huge with all these machines and metallic tools that I assumed they were going to use to cut me up. They said, "Okay, Dean, here we go." I didn't even cry or feel scared. I was just ready for it because I knew it was my best chance to live. When I woke from the surgery, I wrote, "I love you," to my wife on a piece of a paper towel and drew a little heart. On May 17, they took out my intubation tube, and I was able to speak for the first time. I said, "Hi, everyone. I'm cancer-free now." I spent two weeks in the hospital and two weeks in a rehab facility. I was discharged on June 13. My wife and I celebrated our five-year wedding anniversary later that month. I'm still getting stronger. My legs are a little wobbly, but I average about a mile a day walking. I still have outpatient rehab three times a week, where I get stronger. These days, I have so much more energy. Before the surgery, I would sleep most of the day. I would wake up at 9 and need to take a nap by 10. I'd go to bed early, too. But now I can have a full day, and I'm starting to resume normal life. Before I got sick, I was always hustling, saying yes to everything, not really thinking about my own wants and desires. But now I'm going to have fun, because you never know when it's going to be your last day. I still have to get cancer screening every three months for the next five years. I just had my first one last week, and there's no evidence of anything cancerous in my body. I feel so lucky to be alive. You know in the Indiana Jones movies where he's in the tunnel and the wall is coming down and he's trying to get through? I just barely got to the exit. That's how I feel, like I just made it. Hardly anyone does. My wife and I will go out for a walk, and she will start crying. When I ask her why, she says, "I'm just so happy. I'm just so happy you're here." A GoFundMe was established to help the couple. Read the original article on People
Miami Herald
13-05-2025
- Health
- Miami Herald
Double-lung transplant in U.S. saves German mother of twins
The timing of Cornelia Tischmacher's pneumonia couldn't have been worse -- eight months after the Berlin mom gave birth to twins. But the pneumonia just wouldn't go away, so Tischmacher went to a doctor in January 2018. Tests revealed that the then 40-year-old had stage 3 lung cancer. The diagnosis shocked Tischmacher, an active nonsmoker with a busy career as an art historian and gallerist. "I absolutely loved my job and had to travel quite a bit for work, but when I was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer, my priorities immediately shifted. I knew I had to do everything I could to stay alive for my children," she said. "My twins would never hear me say the words, 'Mommy is going to die,' " Tischmacher vowed. Her road to survival eventually led to the United States, where Tischmacher received a double-lung transplant at Northwestern Medicine in Chicago the day after Christmas 2024. "During our first telehealth visit with Cornelia, it was clear to us that she was at the end of the road," Dr. Ankit Bharat, chief of thoracic surgery and director of the Northwestern Medicine Canning Thoracic Institute, said in a news release. "Cornelia had failed every other medical treatment available to her, including surgeries, chemotherapy and immunotherapy, but the cancer continued to progress to stage 4 and became so advanced that it was causing her lungs to fail," said Bharat, who performed Tischmacher's surgery. "She couldn't breathe, and a lung transplant was her only option to fix the lung failure, remove all the cancer cells from her body, and give her a fighting chance to be there for her twins," Bharat said. Tischmacher received two new lungs under Northwestern's first-of-its-kind clinical program called DREAM, for Double Lung Transplant Registry Aimed for Lung-Limited Malignancies. "Receiving my lung transplant on Dec. 26 was the best Christmas present I could have asked for," Tischmacher said. "I remember waking up and thinking for the first time in a long time, I will be able to go to museums and go for bike rides with my kids without bringing an oxygen tank with me. "I could finally breathe again," she continued. "It was such a gift that I don't take for granted, and I encourage everyone [who is able] to register as an organ donor -- not just in the United States, but also in Germany." Tischmacher's treatment path started with surgery and chemotherapy in June 2018 to get rid of her initial lung cancer. But by October 2019, the cancer had returned. Doctors told her all they could do was slow down her cancer's progression using chemotherapy and immunotherapy. Tischmacher discovered the DREAM program last June, when she could no longer breathe without supplemental oxygen. In the program, select patients with advanced lung cancers that haven't spread elsewhere can be considered for a double-lung transplant. After being accepted to the DREAM program, Tischmacher flew from Berlin to Chicago in an air ambulance in December 2024. On Christmas Eve, Tischmacher entered the ICU at Northwestern Memorial Hospital and took her place on the transplant waiting list. Two days after being listed, she received a donated pair of lungs. "With how quickly her disease was progressing, it was clear to us that Cornelia would not be able to leave the hospital without receiving a lung transplant," said Dr. Krishnan Warrior, a lung transplant pulmonologist at Northwestern's Canning Thoracic Institute who has been caring for Tischmacher. Tischmacher was receiving up to 60 liters of oxygen per minute, "which is the absolute limit you can supply without a ventilator," Warrior said in a news release. "For that very reason, we worked around the clock to complete her lung transplant workup and arrange all the logistics needed for her to stay in the United States." The transplant surgery involves putting the patient on full heart and lung bypass, gently removing both cancer-ridden lungs long with the lymph nodes, then washing the airways and the chest cavity to clear away cancer cells before putting in the new lungs, Bharat said. "These patients can have billions of cancer cells in the lungs, so we must be extremely meticulous to not let a single cell spill into the patient's chest cavity or blood stream," he said. Tischmacher, now 48, spent one week recovering at Northwestern Memorial before being discharged to an apartment in Chicago. She'll spend a year in the city to be near her transplant team. Her husband, Udo Kittelmann, and their 8-year-old twins, Leo and Lucie, remained in Berlin so the kids could continue their schooling, but they were able to visit during spring break in mid-April. "Seeing my children for the first time in four months was absolutely wonderful. The weight of my illness had weighed them down, and to see me healthy again was overwhelming - but in a good way," Tischmacher said. "It's a happy continuation of the story because it could have been so different. When we said our initial 'goodbyes' in December, it was much more dramatic because we didn't know how things would go." Tischmacher is currently cancer-free and has recovered enough to walk around Chicago, taking in the city's art galleries and breathe on her own. She's the first patient from Germany to receive a lung transplant at Northwestern Medicine, doctors said. Past patients have traveled from Asia, Brazil, Colombia, Canada, the Middle East and other parts of Europe. Northwestern Medicine surgeons have performed more than 50 lung transplants for patients with advanced lung cancers, the school says. "On a daily basis, we're seeing more young women being diagnosed with lung cancer," Bharat said. "Conventionally, lung cancer has been associated with smoking and older age. While smoking certainly increases your chances of developing lung cancer, we're seeing an explosion of lung cancer cases in patients who have never smoked or had limited smoking exposure -- like Cornelia," he continued. "The majority of them are young, and the majority are women, and we still aren't sure why this is happening." The Canning Thoracic Institute also has launched a universal lung cancer screening program that evaluates patients even if their insurance doesn't cover the test. Doctors plan to share their findings as part of an effort to expand lung cancer screenings to all people past a certain age. "If lung cancer is causing the most deaths in this country, impacting smokers and nonsmokers, we need a universal screening program just like we have for breast and colon cancer," Bharat said. More information The American Lung Association has more on lung transplants. Copyright © 2025 HealthDay. All rights reserved. Copyright 2025 UPI News Corporation. All Rights Reserved.
Yahoo
12-05-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Double-lung transplant in U.S. saves German mother of twins
The timing of Cornelia Tischmacher's pneumonia couldn't have been worse -- eight months after the Berlin mom gave birth to twins. But the pneumonia just wouldn't go away, so Tischmacher went to a doctor in January 2018. Tests revealed that the then 40-year-old had stage 3 lung cancer. The diagnosis shocked Tischmacher, an active nonsmoker with a busy career as an art historian and gallerist. "I absolutely loved my job and had to travel quite a bit for work, but when I was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer, my priorities immediately shifted. I knew I had to do everything I could to stay alive for my children," she said. "My twins would never hear me say the words, 'Mommy is going to die,' " Tischmacher vowed. Her road to survival eventually led to the United States, where Tischmacher received a double-lung transplant at Northwestern Medicine in Chicago the day after Christmas 2024. "During our first telehealth visit with Cornelia, it was clear to us that she was at the end of the road," Dr. Ankit Bharat, chief of thoracic surgery and director of the Northwestern Medicine Canning Thoracic Institute, said in a news release. "Cornelia had failed every other medical treatment available to her, including surgeries, chemotherapy and immunotherapy, but the cancer continued to progress to stage 4 and became so advanced that it was causing her lungs to fail," said Bharat, who performed Tischmacher's surgery. "She couldn't breathe, and a lung transplant was her only option to fix the lung failure, remove all the cancer cells from her body, and give her a fighting chance to be there for her twins," Bharat said. Tischmacher received two new lungs under Northwestern's first-of-its-kind clinical program called DREAM, for Double Lung Transplant Registry Aimed for Lung-Limited Malignancies. "Receiving my lung transplant on Dec. 26 was the best Christmas present I could have asked for," Tischmacher said. "I remember waking up and thinking for the first time in a long time, I will be able to go to museums and go for bike rides with my kids without bringing an oxygen tank with me. "I could finally breathe again," she continued. "It was such a gift that I don't take for granted, and I encourage everyone [who is able] to register as an organ donor -- not just in the United States, but also in Germany." Tischmacher's treatment path started with surgery and chemotherapy in June 2018 to get rid of her initial lung cancer. But by October 2019, the cancer had returned. Doctors told her all they could do was slow down her cancer's progression using chemotherapy and immunotherapy. Tischmacher discovered the DREAM program last June, when she could no longer breathe without supplemental oxygen. In the program, select patients with advanced lung cancers that haven't spread elsewhere can be considered for a double-lung transplant. After being accepted to the DREAM program, Tischmacher flew from Berlin to Chicago in an air ambulance in December 2024. On Christmas Eve, Tischmacher entered the ICU at Northwestern Memorial Hospital and took her place on the transplant waiting list. Two days after being listed, she received a donated pair of lungs. "With how quickly her disease was progressing, it was clear to us that Cornelia would not be able to leave the hospital without receiving a lung transplant," said Dr. Krishnan Warrior, a lung transplant pulmonologist at Northwestern's Canning Thoracic Institute who has been caring for Tischmacher. Tischmacher was receiving up to 60 liters of oxygen per minute, "which is the absolute limit you can supply without a ventilator," Warrior said in a news release. "For that very reason, we worked around the clock to complete her lung transplant workup and arrange all the logistics needed for her to stay in the United States." The transplant surgery involves putting the patient on full heart and lung bypass, gently removing both cancer-ridden lungs long with the lymph nodes, then washing the airways and the chest cavity to clear away cancer cells before putting in the new lungs, Bharat said. "These patients can have billions of cancer cells in the lungs, so we must be extremely meticulous to not let a single cell spill into the patient's chest cavity or blood stream," he said. Tischmacher, now 48, spent one week recovering at Northwestern Memorial before being discharged to an apartment in Chicago. She'll spend a year in the city to be near her transplant team. Her husband, Udo Kittelmann, and their 8-year-old twins, Leo and Lucie, remained in Berlin so the kids could continue their schooling, but they were able to visit during spring break in mid-April. "Seeing my children for the first time in four months was absolutely wonderful. The weight of my illness had weighed them down, and to see me healthy again was overwhelming - but in a good way," Tischmacher said. "It's a happy continuation of the story because it could have been so different. When we said our initial 'goodbyes' in December, it was much more dramatic because we didn't know how things would go." Tischmacher is currently cancer-free and has recovered enough to walk around Chicago, taking in the city's art galleries and breathe on her own. She's the first patient from Germany to receive a lung transplant at Northwestern Medicine, doctors said. Past patients have traveled from Asia, Brazil, Colombia, Canada, the Middle East and other parts of Europe. Northwestern Medicine surgeons have performed more than 50 lung transplants for patients with advanced lung cancers, the school says. "On a daily basis, we're seeing more young women being diagnosed with lung cancer," Bharat said. "Conventionally, lung cancer has been associated with smoking and older age. While smoking certainly increases your chances of developing lung cancer, we're seeing an explosion of lung cancer cases in patients who have never smoked or had limited smoking exposure -- like Cornelia," he continued. "The majority of them are young, and the majority are women, and we still aren't sure why this is happening." The Canning Thoracic Institute also has launched a universal lung cancer screening program that evaluates patients even if their insurance doesn't cover the test. Doctors plan to share their findings as part of an effort to expand lung cancer screenings to all people past a certain age. "If lung cancer is causing the most deaths in this country, impacting smokers and nonsmokers, we need a universal screening program just like we have for breast and colon cancer," Bharat said. More information The American Lung Association has more on lung transplants. Copyright © 2025 HealthDay. All rights reserved.
