‘Happier than a bird with a french fry’
Rome native Shammah Autry says that, despite a lifetime of health issues and tragedy, there is no reason to see her as a victim.
For much of Shammah Autry’s life, she has been cast as the victim.
This was the case when her mother, Jayne Autry, was murdered in the summer of 1981. It was again about two years later, when she was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. Then in March 2014, when she started dialysis after her kidneys shut down.
And it continues even now, as she undergoes chemotherapy to battle triple-negative breast cancer.
But she has had enough of people telling her “bless your heart” throughout her life. She is not a victim. On the contrary, she is an individual who relishes the present, because in knowing that she should have been dead long ago, she’s found every day to be a gift, she said.
“No one wants pity,” said Autry, who left Rome at 18 in search of anonymity and to escape the memories attached to her hometown.
The 45-year-old works as a massage therapist out of her own home. She finds her work therapeutic, whether it is the positive reinforcement she receives from her customers or simply being able to work with her hands, she said.
Over the 12 years she has been a masseuse in Rome, during the last month she has worked the least due to the number of doctor visits she’s had, following the news on July 24 that she had breast cancer. The type of cancer she has is one of the most aggressive forms and is the most likely to reoccur, she said.
Autry, who graduated from Darlington School in 1990, was initially leaning toward an alternative approach to fighting it. But when staring death in the face, she gave her doctors the goahead to fill her with as many crazy drugs as they wanted, she said.
Her first round of chemotherapy was Sept. 1, and in the lead-up to it she cut her long hair up to above her shoulders, while making some artistic responses to her chemically-induced balding.
Her friends and family, who are part of what Autry calls Rome’s underground arts culture which she has cherished since returning home in her 30s, plan on painting designs onto her hairless head.
The thought of having to undergo a mastectomy was a bit much for her mind to manage, but she joked that she’s lucky to have a partner who loves her for her inside beauty.
“I’d much rather have my breath than my boobs,” she said.
A silver lining that has emerged from Autry’s sickness is that having the diseases she has is a fine way for her teenage son not to take her for granted. She said she gets plenty of calls from her 19-year-old son, who is a 2016 Rome High graduate now going to Kennesaw State University. As she has had to fight to stay alive all these years, it’s taught her son to find his independence.
Autry won’t be able to get the pancreas and
kidney transplant she has been waiting on for over three years, until she has been cancerfree for five years. Last Memorial Day, she was in the hospital ready for the transplant and ready to get rid of diabetes, but at the last minute, the operation was halted, as the organs she was set to receive
were no longer usable.
The cancer is there whether or not she’s miserable, Autry said, so she counts her blessings regularly. And with a great support system, she said she feels luckier than people who aren’t struggling with health issues but who don’t have family. Plus, she knows the good people around her won’t allow her to wallow in self-pity, poking fun at her until she cracks a smile.
“With life, we never
know what may manifest next,” she said. But what is certain for Autry is that whatever may be next around the corner, she will not allow it to make her into the victim.
Autry said she is not quite sure what words of wisdom she can offer other people. But there are these T-shirts that Autry’s friends are selling to help raise money to cover medical bills. They read, in part, “Today I will be happier than a bird with a french fry.”
Perhaps that is enough.
‘With life, we never know what may manifest next.’ Shammah Autry