I woke up on Sunday, December 6, 2020, at 6:15 a.m., like any other Sunday to get ready for church. Except on this day, I had a stomach issue and needed to get to the bathroom right away. To my surprise, however, it was not diarrhea, but bright red blood and clots. At the time, I had just recovered from a mild case of COVID-19 and was concerned my stomach issues may have been related. Concerned, but not wanting to wake my wife, I grabbed my phone to look up my symptoms. When another bout hit me, I knew something was drastically wrong. I cleaned up as best I could, told my wife what was going on, and proceeded to check myself into the local hospital. For the first time in my life, I was admitted into a hospital for observation.
After several tests, I was diagnosed with diverticulosis, and a colonoscopy was scheduled for the next day. I remember asking if this was cancer related, and was told most likely not, but it was precautionary, as I had a colonoscopy at 50, and given 10 years before my next one.
Following my colonoscopy the next day I was told I had a mass in my rectum (5cm), that they believed to be cancer, but did a biopsy to be certain. I remember my emotional response was: ”why not me”, and somehow I knew.
My first call was not to my wife, as I had to gather my thoughts a bit, so I called a friend who had survived another form of cancer for his perspective. I framed my question in a way that by asking the question he’d know what was going on. I asked what he thought when he heard those dreaded words, “you have cancer.” Without missing a beat, my friend said “I knew who I had to fight.”
I responded that “I’ve spent the last three years getting into the best shape of my life,” and he said that was because you had to get into fighting shape. This perspective from a man I greatly respect was pivotal in my journey. I went into it with a warrior mindset, and I knew I’d fight this with everything I had.
The official diagnosis: stage II rectal cancer at age 55.
In early January I began my Monday through Friday radiation treatments with twice daily Xeloda. This went on through the end of February. While I was moderately tired, I was able to continue my daily fitness routine and didn’t miss any work.
After round one, I had an MRI and CT scan, and I had responded well to treatment, where the tumor had shrunk, but there was still scarring that was malignant, so on to round two.
Round two began in mid April, consisting of five rounds of infusions and daily chemotherapy pills. In mid-August I was able to ring the bell at the cancer center following my final infusion. What made this special for me was not the end of my treatment plan, but having my four-year-old granddaughter there as we rang that bell together!!! You see, she stays with us on Thursdays into Friday each week, and while she knew I was “sick,” she didn’t understand the potential gravity of cancer. Some days on infusion days, I’d be home laying on the couch, and she’d just lay with me. She’s my world and a big motivation to beat cancer.
After another MRI/Scan in September, I was given the “all clear, you are NED” news by my oncologist!
While this disease was at times difficult, scary, and uncertain, I was committed to doing my very best. I was still in the gym six days per week (a lot of modifications on my workouts, but I was there!) and never missed work. In my case, if it’s possible to have found a silver lining in cancer, I did. It took cancer for me to realize how many people in my life cared. I had prayers, positive thoughts, and encouragement from friends and family, and as a result, I’m a much more humble person now than last year.
Wild things don’t complain about it being cold, or that they’re hungry…they simply find a way to survive. Congratulations Greg! I am honored to have been a small part of your success story and look forward to watching you write additional chapters. You story is not over! Love you brother!