Hidden Brain - My Unsung Hero: Jackie Briggs' Story

Episode Date: October 8, 2021

My Unsung Hero is here! We're excited to share one of the first episodes of our new podcast. Episode one features listener Jackie Briggs from Portland, Oregon. In 2006, a stranger noticed an unusual mark on Jackie's arm, and realized something was wrong. You can subscribe to My Unsung Hero here.

Today we're excited to share one of the first episodes of our new podcast, My Unsung Hero. There are several other episodes that you can also hear right now in the feed for that show, so please head on over to listen and subscribe. I'm Shankar Vedantam and from Hidden Brain Media, this is My Unsung Hero. Hey, I wanted to share my story about an unsung hero. Hi, Shankar. I would like to talk about my hero. My unsung hero is the man in the Panama hat on the flight to Boston.

As the plane nearer. My unsung hero would definitely have to be my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Abrams. She was trying to teach me. I don't know who they were. I can't even remember their face, but I do remember what they did for me. I can't even express to you how much you've changed my life. Thank you. Thanks.

Thank you for making me feel heard. Today's story comes from Jackie Breaks. And as she gently touched my arm, she said, really, don't wait. [♪ Music playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing in background, playing Briggs's life came on a Saturday afternoon in August 2006. I was attending what was built as a woman's health conference. Turned out it was really a pitch for cosmetic surgery, which really irritated me. But anyway, at that point in my life, I was 52 years old. And for several years, I'd been working 60 hour work weeks in this high pressure I teach job.

And I had very little time for myself. So I really wanted to go and hear this one particular speaker. As a few hundred women milled around different booths, picking up brochures and eating cruditeys, offered by those black, panted, white, shirted, weight staff, this lovely, dark-haired woman came up to me and she said, shirted, weight staff. This lovely, dark-haired woman came up to me and she said, excuse me, but I can't help but notice your arm. I had what my boss later described

as what he thought was a rose tattoo. It was on my upper right bicep. And I was uncharacteristically wearing a sleeveless dress that day. Well, this woman who I have come to refer to as Angela, although I really don't know if that's how she introduced herself, or if that's the name I have since given her, but she asked me if I'd seen a dermatologist about this smallish, irregular, almost birthmark-looking spot. And I assured her I had. She pressed me and said, when?

And I had to stop to think and I counted back the months and I know years. It had been over three years. I was supposed to follow up a year after, but I was so caught up in my job I never did. The dermatologist's office never reached out to me, either so blah, blah, blah time moves on. So this woman urged me to call my doctor Monday morning first thing.

Please don't wait," she said. She explained she was a nurse for a plastic surgeon, and as she gently touched my arm, she said, really, don't wait. And thanks to her, I didn't wait. In the following weeks of Drs. appointments, biopsies, and then the surgery are all a bit of a blur, but because everything moved very fast.

But my melanoma was removed, and my six inch ragged scar that travels almost from the top of my shoulders down my arm is my everyday reminder of her, Angela, my guardian angel. She saved my life. Melanoma is a cancer that metastasizes faster than any other except pancreatic and if I hadn't listened to her, I probably wouldn't be here. So to my hero, Nurse Angela, thank you for my life. Jackie Briggs of Portland, Oregon. She tells us that about two years after that conference and her melanoma surgery, she quit

that 60-hour-a-week IT job. She also took up mountain climbing and submitted 12 peaks. When we spoke with her, she was happily retired, going kayaking, hiking, and motorcycle riding whenever possible. We have an unsung hero of our own to share today, Laura Correll, who is our lead producer on this project. Over the past few months, Laura has taken on my Unsung Hero with great skill and conscientiousness. This project could not have succeeded without her writing and sound design talents.

Thank you, Laura. To share your Unsung Hero with us, go to myunsunghero.org for instructions on how to record and send us your story. Again, that website is myansanghero.org. If you liked today's episode, please be sure to share it with a few friends. What if my recommendations really make all the difference? I'm Shankar Vedantam. See you soon.