Ji Rong's story of 2020

Rong Ji

It was September 13^th, 2020 Sunday, three days before my prophylaxis double mastectomy. My husband drove me to the train station to center city Philadelphia. I will run my last virtual race of this year, the Broad Street Run 10 mile. 

I started from South of Kelly Drive to North direction. As usual, my mind ran wild on my running journey.

Late last year, I registered for all my targeted local 2020 races: Love Run in March, Broad Street Run in May, and Philadelphia Marathon in November. In February, I met with my surgeon to plan for the operation. I have family history of breast cancer and found out I carry the BRCA 2 gene which is a mutation that increases the risk of breast cancer 80% at older age. With no hesitation, I decided to bypass all the frequent screenings and go straight to double mastectomy. My surgeon told me I have to take 3 weeks off from work for recovery. I told him I have two races in March and May. He said: enjoy the run, let’s do the surgery after your races. The operation was scheduled on May 20^th. In March, I met with my gynecology oncologist for prophylaxis oophorectomy. The risk of ovarian cancer can reach 25% in BRCA gene carriers.  There is no screening test for ovarian cancer. When patients are diagnosed with ovarian cancer, its usually at very late stage. We planned to have a combined surgery during mastectomy so that I do not have to take another medical leave.

By the end of March, I canceled my vacation, a trip to Beijing, for the reason the whole world knew. Our clinic in Chinatown kept open during the pandemic. When people say we are heroes, I never felt proud or different. After all this is my job. I am paid to do my job. We are supposed to take care of patients no matter it is a peaceful or war time. It felt more heartbroken in January and February when sad news from Wuhan China arrived here.

I left Beijing to US in 2003. In March 2003, I received a letter from Temple University in Philadelphia to schedule interview for visa to US. I dropped the letter under piles of papers. It was the peak outbreak period of SARS in my hospital- People’s Hospital in Beijing. One of our ER doctors and a nurse died after contracting SARS. Many of my colleagues became ill. On April 24^th 2003, I went to visit my sick colleagues in another SARS hospital. On the way back when we were planning to organize a team to take over care in that SARS hospital, order came that our hospital would be closed for the first time in 85 years since its establishment. Quarantined inside, fever cases were announced daily, which meant the quarantine period would extend further until 14 days after the last report case. In May, few weeks after complete quarantine, our hospital remained closed for reconstruction to build fever clinic and rearrange some areas in order to prepare for new cases. I joined a team to an ICU unit. There, all of the patients were our own people who contracted SARS at work, most of them had tracheostomy. Few weeks later on my last week of duty, I received my H1B visa to US to work. On August 29^th 2003, I landed at LA airport where my new journey started.

I started the run at about 7am. At Fountain Green road, the photograph team of Broad Street Run arrived early. I had not received my race packet. So, I wore my T shirt from 2018 race. They recognized me and took multiple shots. I happily waved to them. Waving is such a beautiful gesture to give each other mutual support that all runners share, no matter what is your color, gender, age or speed.

In May, after George Floyd death, our world enters another battle against race. My surgery was cancelled for the obvious reason. Love Run and Broad Street Run were postponed to October. I finished a virtual half marathon called “Social distancing run” in June. It was the first virtual race I ever had. One of my colleagues mentioned a virtual run called OneNY challenge to support COVID. I registered for the 500km in 109 days. In July I changed it to 1000km. I had to run 7 miles a day to complete the goal. I always make sure to take one day off from running each week. By the end of August, I finished the 1000km three days before the deadline. On July 14^th. Mayor Kenney announced all large public events will not be permitted through the end of February 2021. All races were cancelled or changed to virtual. I was tearful when I heard the news. It was a feeling of defeat. Yes, we failed. We failed in many ways when each individual’s responsibility has never been so fundamental yet fallen apart. Hearing our president calling “China virus” every day on TV, the relationship between China and US turning more and more intense, seeing my little old lady patients becoming so scared and anxious, I was never so eager to know if I could do anything to end these.

I grew up with the Uyghurs in Xingjiang, a place Americans knew from politicians. My parents moved from Xiangsu, a place near Shanghai to Xingjiang with 3-month-old me in 1970. In those years, many young Hans migrated there under the call from the government to support lifting poverty in Northwest China. My parents left my elder brother in Shanghai with our aunt until he was at the age to school. During decades, massive investment boosted the region’s education, transportation, economics and so on. Most of our Hans went to school and worked together with Uyghurs, they were also provided more opportunities to receive education and jobs. My parents are one of those tiger parents. I graduated top 1 in 1988 and went to Beijing Medical School. One year later, I spend the summer night of June 4^th in Tiananmen Square. On June 5^th early morning, our medical student group was the last escorted out of the Square. Each of us were sobbing. I jumped on a train to North later that day with five of my high school classmates. We changed several trains including cargo trains filled with coal. All we know was as long as we were heading north and west, we would be able to go home. 6 days later, we arrived in Urumqi, Xingjiang.  One of my medical school classmates once said: My parents sent me to medical school because they do not want me to deal with anything in politics. This is the reality for so many families who had experienced and learned from history.

As I ran close to the 5-mile turning point, there running towards me in his classic blue running shirt, I was so excited to recognize Gene Dykes. He broke his age group world marathon record at age of 70 in December 2018. We waved to each other and I picked up my pace in smile. Along the same road I ran Philadelphia Marathon last year in a windy and raining day, many of those moments came back vividly. Half way in front of the Museum of Arts, I saw a man standing with his hoody high fiving to each passing runner. I clapped with him, suddenly realized it was Meb Keflezighi. His eyes were bright and cheerful. At the finish line, he was still there in stronger rain, giving out medals to each finisher and congratulated everyone. It is those runners who has inspired many of us to keep going on the road.

Upon turning back on Martin Luther King Drive, the empty roads remind me it is blocked since March due to COVID. The mayor wants to encourage people to keep exercising with less traffic. I finished my virtual Love Run couple weeks ago on this road where each year there are thousands of runners and spectators. I remembered one year I was being alert by another runner of a hole on the uneven ground. Each year the MLK road was divided in midline. I often ran on the midline side so I can steal energy from the returning Elite runners and shout their names to “add oil”. I am often frustrated that in English other than saying “keep going” “you look great”, there is nothing as powerful as “add oil” in Chinese we use to cheer athletes in all sports. Now the MLK is still broad, the ground is still bumpy, it is so strangely quiet. I imaged seeing the flags on side road to landmark the miles to sprint, the crowd in front of the Rocky steps to celebrate the finish. I am happy that I finished all the races planned, virtually, yet, I do not want this Broad Street Run to be the last one in 2020.

It is now December 12^th. I am back on road after 2 weeks and 3 days post second surgery BSO- bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy. I know, it is more accurate to call it Bloody show off.

The plan of combined mastectomy and BSO fell off. I had double mastectomy on Sept 16^th. It went well except I developed seroma which is fluid built up under subcutaneous tissue on both chest wall. It is a very common complication after mastectomy. I took 3 weeks off from running. When I started to run, I had to surround my chest with tight compression wraps. Started slowly and easy, I was happy to be able to run 20 miles without break until I had to take another break for BSO on November 25^th. I only took 3 days from work but had to wait until yesterday when my doctor gave my green light to resume running.

Back on the familiar trail, I was slow and careful but filled with euphoria. I want to tell fate or nature or god, that I had done all my part. Whenever you want to take me, I have no regret. 

2020 is almost over. It is a strange year with mixed feelings. I hope all of us can see beauty against ugly, gain strength through loss.