Volleyball-playing sisters from Maple Hill grow closer after one grapples with rare form of cancer

? Kendra and Kyla Dotson are two of a kind.

Best friends from birth, the identical twins had no other siblings.

âÂÂJust the two of us,â Kyla said.

Kyla is left-handed. She played volleyball, basketball, softball and trumpet at St. Marys High, just west of Topeka. SheâÂÂs the youngest of the pair, by two whole minutes.

Kendra is right-handed. She played volleyball, basketball, softball and french horn. SheâÂÂs the âÂÂtell-it-like-it-isâ twin, according to their mother.

Their interests are as identical as they are, and theyâÂÂre seemingly never apart.

âÂÂWe had spent, like, one night away from each other,â Kyla said.

Both were decorated athletes, good students, devout Christians and typical teenagers. Boyfriends, sports, friendships Ãi¿½” everything youâÂÂd expect from two girls in their high school years Ãi¿½” was all pretty normal.

Until Feb. 25, 2002.

The two had signed letters of intent to play volleyball at Baker University early in their senior year. They didnâÂÂt know what they wanted to do with their lives, but business seemed like a good major. And they would play volleyball for the Wildcats.

It seemed that everything was going so smoothly for Kendra and Kyla Dotson last winter. Neither could have guessed what they would go through before departing for Baldwin.

They couldnâÂÂt have guessed how it would change them, and how it would bring them closer to their faith, to reality, and to each other.

âÂÂAll through high school,â Kendra said, âÂÂyou think, âÂÂ’Hey, nothing can happen to us.âÂÂâÂÂ

âÂÂA Slap in the FaceâÂÂ

Kendra had played basketball for her first three years of high school. She decided not to play her senior year, though Kyla still had the passion.

Kyla was finishing a stellar basketball career at St. Marys, ready to lock up all-league honors in her third sport Ãi¿½” she already earned all-league in volleyball and softball.

Kendra, meanwhile, continued playing offseason volleyball, and was preparing for softball season in the spring.

She had worked so hard to be one of the top pitchers on a strong Bears squad Ãi¿½” which annually contends for the Class 3A state title. This year would be no different, and Kendra wanted nothing more than to contribute to it before saying goodbye to softball and going on to play volleyball for Baker.

âÂÂI was really looking forward to it,â Kendra said.

But something bizarre started happening. Her stomach started hardening. It became tougher to compete.

Kendra had just had a sonogram in December. It found nothing. Kendra is a self-admitted hypochondriac and wondered if she was inventing the pain in her stomach.

A volleyball tournament in late February was the final straw. In warm-ups, Kendra tried running. She couldnâÂÂt. She tried jumping. No luck. It was too hard. She couldnâÂÂt play that day, instead giving into the pain and going home.

âÂÂThe next morning I went to the emergency room,â Kendra said. âÂÂThatâÂÂs when I found out what it was.âÂÂ

The doctors at Stormont-Vail in Topeka found a tumor, about the size of a watermelon, in her lower stomach. She immediately went into surgery, on Feb. 25, to remove it.

âÂÂWhen I had the surgery, they said there was only a 10 percent chance that it was cancer,â Kendra said. âÂÂSo I went into surgery and didnâÂÂt think anything of it.âÂÂ

It was cancer.

Germ-cell ovarian cancer Ãi¿½” one of the rarest forms of cancer Ãi¿½” had attacked KendraâÂÂs body. There were no symptoms, just a rapid-growing tumor.

The news was devastating. Not just to Kendra, but to her whole family, including Kyla, her twin sister.

âÂÂIt was a slap in the face,â Kyla said. âÂÂI realized that I might have to live without her. I didnâÂÂt know if I could.âÂÂ

As with anyone stricken with one of the most feared illnesses in the world, hundreds of questions raced through KendraâÂÂs overwhelmed mind. Did it spread? Would it come back?

Kendra tried her best to keep her cool. She had to, and she knew it.

âÂÂI couldnâÂÂt let it get to me,â she said. âÂÂIf it got to me, it would get to everyone else worse.âÂÂ

The Road to Recovery

Softball was now out of the question for Kendra. Recovering from cancer is a long, painful process. Chemotherapy treatments would replace batting practice. Blood tests took priority over perfecting her fastball.

All along, Kyla had to keep going. She assumed her position at first base. But she felt so bad.

âÂÂAt times, it was like, âÂÂ’I deserve it, not herâÂÂ,â Kyla recalls. âÂÂI thought, âÂÂ’SheâÂÂs such a better person than me.âÂÂâÂÂ

The Dotsons hail from a small town in central Kansas called Maple Hill. ItâÂÂs about 10 miles from where they went to high school, and the population doesnâÂÂt exceed 500 or so.

KendraâÂÂs story captured the hearts of the Maple Hill community, and they came in droves to support the fight for KendraâÂÂs life.

âÂÂShe didnâÂÂt know a lot of it, because she doesnâÂÂt remember how many people showed up,â Kyla said. âÂÂOur whole school signed a giant banner. Everybody from our town sent her something.âÂÂ

Added Kendra: âÂÂIn the hospital, people would walk in with flowers, and theyâÂÂd be like, âÂÂ’Her room is that way.âÂÂâÂÂ

The final count had 72 roses, 46 stuffed animals, 14 potted plants and countless prayers for a successful recovery. Kendra claims to this day that it was her Christian faith that made survival possible.

âÂÂThe only way I got through it was God,â she said. âÂÂEveryone prayed for me. I got letters from people in different states who were praying for me. I was on about 30 churchesâ prayer lists. It was the best.âÂÂ

Chemotherapy treatments started almost immediately, after a CAT scan detected that the cancer had hit her liver. For three grueling months, Kendra had to go to St. LukeâÂÂs Hospital in Kansas City to wipe the cancer out of her body.

The road to recovery was tough on everybody.

âÂÂItâÂÂs the hardest thing IâÂÂve ever been through,â Kyla said. âÂÂYou donâÂÂt expect anyone around you to get sick. Especially your twin sister.âÂÂ

All along, Kendra kept her composure. Her 5-foot-9 body weakened, her weight dipped to 113 pounds. Her hair fell out, but Kendra tried her best to keep a positive attitude.

âÂÂI didnâÂÂt know if I was going to die or not,â she said. âÂÂHair was the last thing I worried about.âÂÂ

After the first treatment, KendraâÂÂs hair started coming out in clumps. It was time to shave it, and Kendra did so Ãi¿½” without telling her sis.

âÂÂShe didnâÂÂt warn me,â Kyla said with a smile. âÂÂI came home one day and walked in the house and she said, âÂÂ’Hi,â and she had no hair. I screamed.âÂÂ

Kendra said her altered appearance was a tough obstacle, but not nearly as tough as what she was already going through.

âÂÂHair isnâÂÂt that important. ItâÂÂs going to grow back,â Kendra said. âÂÂPeople still loved me, and they still told me I was beautiful.âÂÂ

She paused and laughed.

âÂÂThey were probably lying to me, but they still told me that.âÂÂ

Time for Reflection

After three months of excruciating chemotherapy sessions, Kendra was cancer-free. She was able to graduate with her class and was able to watch Kyla lead St. Marys to the Class 3A state softball tournament.

âÂÂRight before the championship game,â Kendra said, âÂÂinstead of saying, âÂÂ’Lady Bears,â they said âÂÂ’We love Kendo!âÂÂâÂÂ

When the state title game rolled around, Kendra was in attendance, with her bald head painted like a softball. As runs came across the plate, score was kept on her head.

St. Marys took the 3A state crown Ãi¿½” and dedicated it to Kendra.

âÂÂThe coach was great about it,â Kendra said. âÂÂThey saved me my uniform so I could wear it to all the games.âÂÂ

Now, Kendra and Kyla share a dorm room at Irwin Hall on the Baker University campus. Life is getting back to normal, though itâÂÂs not quite there yet. While Kyla was able to play volleyball this season, Kendra had to settle for being team manager.

SheâÂÂs still too weak to compete. She works out on her own, a slow process, but one that will take her back to the court alongside her twin sister before much longer.

âÂÂIâÂÂm afraid to start volleyball again,â Kendra admits. âÂÂMy stomach is never going to be as strong as it was. ItâÂÂs going to be hard for me to get back into shape.âÂÂ

Once a month, blood is taken and tested. As long as the Alphafetoprotien levels stay down, the cancer stays away.

Every three months, Kendra meets with doctors, where a CAT scan is taken. The chances of recurrence are there, but chances are, KendraâÂÂs worst days are behind her. She can now start living again, like a normal 18-year-old college freshman.

âÂÂIt gives you a new perspective on whatâÂÂs really important,â she says. âÂÂIâÂÂm really thankful that IâÂÂm alive. To go outside and see the leaves on the trees âÂÂ: itâÂÂs just amazing to me.âÂÂ