Page 36 - CF Roundtable - Winter/Spring 2026

IN THE SPOTLIGHT (continued from page 35)
hysterectomy. I had eight lymph nodes removed from the omentum,
a layer of adipose tissue that nestles on intra-peritoneal organs.
They saw over 50 little tumors on my small intestines, none of
which they could remove as the surgeons were afraid of perforating
my bowel. The recovery post-hysterectomy was extremely painful.
If I hadn’t been proactive and advocated for myself I don’t think I
would be here today telling my story.
Can you tell us about your brain injury? How long did it take
to recover from this?
Are you now in menopause from the hysterectomy? Was
that a shock to you?
Getting a hysterectomy a long time ago should have been on my to
do list. It was already hard for me to accept the fact that I couldn’t
have a family on my own and let my parents become grandparents
in the process. In the end, having a hysterectomy because of
cancer wasn’t a shocker for me—just
another heartache in the end. I was not
ready to lose that part of my womanhood.
I was very emotional and it was difficult
to accept, plus the recovery wasn’t an
easy one. However, I had tons of family
plans for the summer and I wasn’t going
to give them up. Every time I look down
at my scar I’m reminded of everything
I’ve endured—scars represent the battles
that you have overcome. The benefit of
this unwanted surgery is the lack of a
menstrual period. Through everything,
my parents have been and continue to
be my greatest supporters in life. When
I’m struggling with what has transpired
they tell me that they are just happy and
relieved that with all that I’ve overcome
from childhood and into adulthood, that
I am still alive. They know I will never be
100% healthy, but one day there will be a
cure and I hope they will be around to see
it. For me, that would be the greatest gift I
could give to both my parents.
In 2015 I wound up in the hospital from an overdose of intravenous
Tobramycin antibiotic, which left me in the hospital ICU for a month.
It was just an ordinary CF day with the pills and whole morning
routine, until later when I didn’t feel well. I felt a bad burning
sensation, almost like really bad acid reflux. My mom gave me some
Pepcid on her way out the door, thinking it was nothing. While I was
in the shower, I had my head resting against the tile, barely able
to keep my eyes open. At one point, I fell asleep and then I woke
up and thought where the hell am I. After I got out of the shower, I
tried texting my friend, but I forgot how to type and then I couldn’t
talk. Thankfully, my sister came over to check on me. She said I
needed to go to the hospital right away so my father drove me to
the ER. I passed out before I even made it
inside and the last thing I remember was
a team of doctors running toward me. I
never made it to the emergency room.
When I came to I was lying flat on the
operating table getting a hemodialysis
catheter inserted and a spinal tap, which
they needed to do four times. I remember
just lying there, in and out of it, not really
hearing much but I felt pressure in my
neck and saw a bright light. I slipped into
a coma for 72 hours. While in the coma, I
thought my mom put my phone to my ear
and I heard my grandmother’s voice say
“Rosie, it’s Grandma” and I woke up.
How was being on chemotherapy,
and what were the side effects?
Being on chemo was a very painful
experience—both emotionally and
physically. It was like a horrible, ongoing
nightmare. I couldn’t believe this was
actually happening to me. I wasn’t sure I
was going to make it through all six months of 12 rounds of chemo.
Chemo treatment was every other Monday for a total of two to
three chemo sessions per month depending on the month. As time
went on the exhaustion took hold. I usually slept the rest of the day
following my chemo treatments. I developed horrible jaw pain when
chewing. The pain was so intense that I was barely able to enjoy
anything I put into my mouth. My appetite got worse and worse as
time went on. I couldn’t use utensils because they left a metallic
taste in my mouth. Eventually, my swallowing was delayed too. It
was a struggle to get any food down as eating became more of an
effort rather than an enjoyment. Even now, I still have issues when
chewing—there’s a slight burning sensation in the back of my jaw.
My mother told me my sister was
pinching me, trying to wake me up.
Thinking about it now, I believe I had
an out of body experience. I went to
heaven, but never really saw God or any
past family members. The music was so
peaceful and the grass was greener than
ever. It was like I was a bird flying as high
as I could. Then there was the darkness,
like I was in hell. All the animals growled
at me and it was dark. When I woke from
the 72-hour coma I experienced a lot of
hallucinations. All the nurses who took
care of me looked like they were dressed
in costumes from Disneyland. I needed
to learn to get up and walk all over again.
The doctors thought I would never be able
to talk again. Recovery was tough, I don’t know what was worse,
going through six months of chemo or doing dialysis for a month.
I finished dialysis right before my 31st birthday. Today I suffer with
bit of brain damage and hearing loss. I forget where I put things and
sometimes when driving around it takes me a while to remember
where I am on the road—familiarity doesn’t come to me right away.
I always need to drive with a GPS on.
Part II of Andrea’s interview with Roseann Greco will be printed in
our Summer/Autumn 2026 issue.
If you would like to be interviewed for “In The Spotlight,” please contact us at itsinterviews@usacfa.org.
Xan Nowakowski, Mariah Caise, or Kerri Boucher will reach out to coordinate an interview.
36 CF Roundtable Winter/Spring 2026