Our family's journey to defeat colon cancer 26 years in the making.

1. A Family Wins the Battle against Cancer
By Patricia and Randy Henniger
26 Year Colon Cancer Survivor Family

2. Randy and Tricia and Jeff and Josh a year or two after our battle to
beat Stage 3 colon cancer at our home in Folsom, CA around 1988.
My name is
Patricia
Henniger.
We live in
Folsom,
California. I
have been
married to
Randy
Henniger
for 34 years
and we have two sons, Jeff (age 31) and Josh (age 29) and I am a
cancer survivor. We found out that Randy had Stage 3 colon
cancer on March 10, 1986. He was only 30 years old. How could
this happen to someone so young? Colon cancer is an older
person’s disease! We had been married for 8 years and our boys
were 5 and 3. Words can’t describe how we felt. Our world was in
chaos. All our plans for the future suddenly put on hold while we
prepared for the fight of our lives.
2

3. Randy’s journal entry: 3/11/86: AM: We are getting great support from
Tricia’s family, especially Peggy & Sharon and their Mom. Trish is
great, with a super positive attitude. I can’t imagine not having her to
help and her family to lean on. For those without support, it must be
real Hell.
Patricia: We couldn’t have made it without my sisters and my
Mom. They were super. They rallied around us and made
arrangement for one of them to be there to care for the boys, cook
and clean so I could focus my attention on helping Randy heal.
Randy’s journal entry: 3/14/86: Trish and I spoke of my death today. It
was much more difficult for her than me, She said I was the only man
for her ever, so I’ve got to beat this so she is not left alone for the rest
of her life.
Patricia: I can’t accept that we won’t beat this. The only outcome I
can see is for Randy to get better. We must win this battle for
each other and our family.
Randy: Journal entry: 3/15/86: Our son Jeff was listening to me talk on
the phone about the cancer and while I was talking he got out of bed
and came over to sit on my knee.
I hadn’t even thought about him not knowing what was going on. He is
so little. He told me: “I know about you, Daddy.” I asked what he knew
and he said he knew I was sick.
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4. I told him that I didn’t hurt and that the doctors had to fix something
inside me so that I would be able to be with him for a long time and that
it wouldn’t hurt, but I might be a little weak for while and I would need to
grow strong again. That was enough for him and he smiled and went
back to bed. He told me on his way out of the room, “I know you are
going to be OK, don’t worry, Daddy.”
Patricia: Joshua doesn’t really understand what is happening. He
just curls up on my lap and we hug each other and I tell him
everything is going to be OK. I know Randy is going to be fine,
he’s not going to die. I only had one brief moment of doubt, a sort
of sinking feeling one day a couple weeks after Randy’s surgery.
We are at a Don Jose’s Mexican restaurant in El Toro and I hit me
that Randy’s might die. It was only a brief moment, less than a
minute, and then it was gone forever. I never felt that way again. I
have always known that we would survive to win our battle
against cancer. I say our battle, because we were in the fight
together, equally, as partners.
Randy’s Journal Entry: 3/15/86: I went alone to see Dr. Wyle for some
simple pre-op instructions. Trish wanted to go but I assured her I would
tell her everything the doctor told me. Dr. Wyle had received the results
from the needle biopsies of the cells from my lymph nodes in my groin.
They were cancerous. The cancer had entered my lymph system, the
body’s super highway that could transport the cancer to all parts of my
4

5. body. My odds had just dropped from 70% change for long term
survival to only 30 % chance. How can I tell Tricia?
Patricia: Randy lied to me about his odds for survival. He told me
it was 70/30 in favor of long term survival. I found out today that it
is the other way around. Why would he lie to me? We’re in this
together and yet he kept such an important fact from me. Just to
keep me from worrying? How can I be an effective partner if he is
not truthful with me? The odds don’t matter! I know we’ll work
TOGETHER to win the battle against this terrible disease.
Randy’s journal entry: 3/18/86: I am in intensive care for four days. The
time after surgery is really fuzzy, I do remember Trish coming in to tell
me that they got all the cancer. I felt lost and alone, but having her by
my side gave me hope and reminded me of why I was putting my body
through this trauma. So I could give her my best chance for long term
survival.
Randy: Over the past 26 years since my original cancer diagnosis, I
have asked many times, “Why me, Lord?” Why am I still alive today
when so many others have lost their battles with cancer? I have
discovered my answers through giving back to the cancer survivor
community as a mentor and patient advocate, volunteering with the
American Cancer Society, Colon Cancer Alliance and Great
Comebacks. Sometimes just a quick call or a few emails. Other times it
may be a visit or exchange of postings on the cancer support forums.
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6. By sharing my experiences as a 26 year ostomate, I am able to help
others reach a decision when being asked to undergo a radical surgery
to save their lives and remove all or part of their colons. Occasionally it
is a deep and long term connection with a fellow cancer survivor and
their family.
Patricia: Fast forward to today. We’ve won the battle against
cancer as a family together. Randy has been cancer free for 26
years. Our boys are full grown and happy, handsome and healthy.
We will never forget what has happened to our family…
the pain, worry and fear… but those times are behind us now and
they have brought us together in a very special way…
Trish and Randy and sons are bonded in a special way through overcoming much
adversity together.
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7. Preface
I accepted my New Normal about 5 years after surgery for
Stage III rectal cancer that required a permanent colostomy. I was 35
years old had two young sons and a beautiful, supportive wife. It was at
that point that I bounced from bitter to better. It wasn’t any big lightning
bolt event. I just missed doing the fun and active things I had enjoyed
before the cancer. I took up surfing with my sons and began charging
forward like there was no tomorrow, because I had learned that there
may not be. As on survivor put it so well on the Ostomy Support Group
discussion board recently:
“I realized today that I have finally stopped viewing my life as a
waiting room for death. I trust my body not to betray me again. If it
does, I feel strong enough physically and mentally to cope if I am
blessed again with more time.”
Five years earlier when I was only 30, I crossed another
important emotional barrier. While still in the hospital a few days after
surgery that removed a grapefruit sized tumor, my rectum and the
lower third of my colon, I decided to vault from victim to victor. My
motivation was the love of my wife, our boys and our family and friends.
They just would not give up on me. They were so sure I would survive,
that I just could not disappoint them. So I decided that I would take
charge of my battle to beat cancer. I became general of the army that
would defeat this disease and beat the odds to survive…only 30%
chance of living past 2 years. From my journal:
“I have fully accepted the fact that I have cancer and that getting
cured will be painful and troublesome, and that my life may be
changed after it is all over. I can even accept the colostomy
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8. because it is my best chance for long term survival. My wife,Trish
has been so supportive. She said the colostomy is better than the
alternative, BEING DEAD! About having to “poop in a bag.”
Trish’s sister, Peggy said, “We love you for who you are, not how
you go to the bathroom.”
At around 10 years cancer free, I began to feel the urge to give
back to the community I had reluctantly joined. It seemed right to share
my experience of surviving cancer and living well as an ostomate with
other newly diagnosed survivors and ostomates. I felt good when
others felt better about their journeys. Maybe just a little easier to make
a tough treatment choice that would include an ostomy, or less
frightening when they woke up after surgery to find a rosebud sprouting
from their abdomen. Just a bit more hopeful, knowing that if I survived,
so could they, no matter the odds. On a small scale, one to one, I was
making a difference and answering that nagging question in the back of
my mind, WHY ME LORD?
At about 20 years cancer free, I began getting radical about the
lack of public awareness and resistance to talk publically about colon
cancer and ostomies. Keeping quiet and sitting on our bowel problems
was only allowing the disease to progress and reduce our quality of life.
Since Komen runs and Avon 3 day walks, everyone was talking openly
about women’s breast health, getting annual mammograms and as a
result, breast cancer death rates fell like rocks. Why was it still tabu to
talk about poo? So I volunteered to dress up as polypman at the
American Cancer Society’s Relays for Life, did public service
announcements to promote March as national colon cancer awareness
month, staffed the colon cancer awareness tables at health fairs and
conferences.
8

9. It was at one of these conferences, the UOAA national
conference in Reno, just last year where I met Rolf Benirske of Great
Comebacks. I had watched Rolf kick field goals for the San Diego
Chargers in the 80’s and had heard about his great comeback from
Inflammatory Bowel Disease, and earn his position back with the team
and even to be chosen to go to the Pro Bowl. But I didn’t know until
last summer that Rolf was also an ostomate with a cause. The cause of
increasing public awareness of bowel disease, and improving the
quality of life for ostomates through the sharing of other survivors
stories and celebration of their great comebacks.
Now I am an Ostomate with a Cause, too!
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10. Acknowledgements
I am certain that I would not be here today, twenty-seven years
after discovering Stage III colon cancer if not for my devoted and loving
wife, Patricia and her wonderful family including Peggy and Earl,
Sharon and Eric, Pam and John, and others. I lived through the train
wreck that was my body undergoing radical surgery and radiation
therapy thanks to them. I also want to thanks the medical professionals
who cared for my body including Dr. Wyle, Dr. Hazen, Dr, Koons and
their dedicated staffs. Also, June Booth, who taught me meditation and
relaxation techniques that soothed my soul and nutrition and exercise
programs that allowed my body to recover quickly and contribute more
effectively in fighting off the cancer. I am so thankful to our sons, Jeff
and Josh, for understanding that Daddy was sick, and never being
embarrassed by my illness, treatment or complications from treatment.
I wonder what life would have been like for our family if I had not
survived my battle with cancer. If I had not been around to participate in
their upbringing and to see my sons grow into such fine men they are
today. I am sure that a higher power has been at work in my life. David
and Darchelle Schafer brought the healing power of the Lord to me in
the hospital the day before my first surgery. I did not believe it at the
time, but have come to know that a miracle happened that day. God
heard those prayers and granted me a reprieve from a horrible, painful
death to cancer. I have finally come to accept that there was and is a
Divine hand in all of this with the purpose of keeping me around and
able to help other cancer survivors in their battles to beat cancer. I
have been carried over many rough spots in my walk and am thankful
to everyone who has lifted me up and carried me through those difficult
times. I am forever grateful and share my joy with all you: my family,
friends, medical professionals, and caring individuals who have joined
my army of supporters to beat this deadly disease.
10

11. Chapter One: Flashback
It’s a Friday afternoon in late spring of 1962 in Glendale,
California. A second grader is walking home from Mark Keppel
Elementary School carrying his books. It’s a slight uphill walk along
Kenneth Road to Highland Ave at the entrance to Brand Park. His
lungs are stinging from the exertion and also from the Stage One
SMOG alert that kept him and his playmates off the playground at
recess and inside their classrooms. But that doesn’t trouble this young
one as this is the first weekend of summer. Arriving at his home on
Grandview Street, he sees that the car is being loaded for the annual
summer getaway trip to Balboa. The bright yellow 1959 Cadillac has
enough chrome to sink a battleship and fins that could keep any fish
out of harms’ way.
The drive is not a particularly long distance, but the new
Interstate freeway (Highway 5) is not yet finished, so we take Beach
Boulevard (State Route 39) all the way from Pasadena through all the
little towns, stop lights, stop signs and orchards until we hit coast
highway in Huntington Beach. Turn left to Newport Boulevard, then
right over the Lido Bridge and all the way down the Balboa Peninsula to
the Sea Star Apartments. The drive time is about three hours, during
which time the young man in the back seat of the Cadi is playing with
my toys, making forts, and sometimes dozing off. No one had heard of
seatbelts at this point, and if they had, the rumor was that they kept you
from escaping a vehicle fire caused by an accident.
A decade earlier, they could have traveled on the Red Line
electric train that ran from Pasadena to the Pavilion on Balboa
Peninsula, nearby the Fun Zone and the Balboa Island ferry. The Red
Line was shut down in the late fifties. The tracks were pulled up and the
right of ways sold off. The era of freedom of private transportation in
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12. your own vehicle had arrived. Two cars in every garage and a chicken
in every pot as one politician said.
This annual adventure was the most special time in the young
man’s life. He always looked forward to spending summers at the
beach in Balboa. He and his beach buddies would ride the waves on
canvas inflatable surf mats during the day and roast hot dogs over
bonfires on the beach at night. They would search the alleys and trash
cans for pop bottles to cash in at the liquor store for a couple of pennies
each. Then enjoy a couple of hours playing pinball games and trying to
win prize tickets on the skee-ball games at the Balboa Fun Zone, or a
ride on the Ferris wheel or the carousel or the bumper cars. The
bumper cars were the little boy’s favorite, along with riding on the
Balboa Island ferry. A round trip ride on the ferry cost a dime and there
were always lot of kids on the Island to play with. Sometimes a family
would spring for frozen bananas dipped in chocolate and rolled in nuts
for the entire bunch of kids.
No one worried about the little boy or his young friends. So
long as they were home by dark, they had complete freedom to create
a wealth of wonderful adventures to share with his family every night
over dinner. After dinner he was back out to the beach for the nightly
bonfire and marsh mellow roasting. No cell phones, no pagers, no
worries about sexual predators. The little boy and his buddies were free
to do what they wanted, within the limits of what the other responsible
adults would permit. There was no question asked if a neighbor laid
down the law to the kids, or marched them back to their parents for
punishment if they disrespected the adults.
They swam everyday in the ocean or in Newport Bay. If they
didn’t have a dime for the ferry, they would challenge each other to
swimming across the channel to Balboa Island, avoiding the boat traffic
that did not appreciate having to dodge a bunch of kids getting in the
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13. way of their passage. They went snorkeling and spear fishing in the
Bay and proudly brought home their catch for Mom to fry up for dinner.
Eventually, the family bought a boat and kept it at the Back Bay
Marina. This really opened up the little boys horizons. Trips to Catalina,
San Diego, Baja and the annual Christmas boat parade in Newport
Harbor were all extraordinary highlights in the young man’s life. The
young man and his sister would spend hours swimming in the Newport
Back Bay, scraping off the barnacles from the bottom of the boat,
sanding and varnishing the teakwood on the boat and digging in the
mud banks of the bay for clams which went into the stew pot for dinner.
No one knew then of the risks they were taking by spending
hours each day in contaminated waters of the Newport Back Bay, or
eating the fish and shellfish that lived in those murky waters. When the
little boy grew into manhood, he was diagnosed with Stage 3 colon
cancer and given less than two years to live. His sister contracted
breast cancer at age fifty and died of complications from cancer
treatments at age fifty-five.
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14. Chapter Two: Diagnosis Dynamite
The young man who spent summers in Balboa and the school
year studying hard in Glendale, was me, of course. I grew up and
married a wonderful woman, Patricia. We have two great children, Jeff
and Josh. Since we still lived near the beach, our family vacations
usually took us north to visit family in the Central Valley or in Northern
California. It was early spring in 1986 and we were on a family vacation
to Vegas. Jeff was five and Josh was three years old. I had just turned
thirty in June of the previous year. We did not travel in a bright yellow
Cadillac as the little boy from Glendale had, but rather in a Chevy
AstroVan. The Van was customized with big comfortable captain’s
chairs for all four of them. However, I was still very uncomfortable
during the five hour drive to Vegas.
I had been keeping a secret, a potentially deadly secret.
Unknown to the rest of my family, I had been suffering severe bowel
discomfort and rectal bleeding for some time. I was too embarrassed to
tell anyone and too terrified to go to the doctor. On that trip to Vegas,
the pain got so bad that I had to tell Trish and ask for help. We tried
Preparation H along the way with no relief. When we got home, Trish
made an appointment for me to see the doctor.
The doctor thought it was hemorrhoids and referred me to a GI
specialist, He took a biopsy and we waited over a long weekend for the
results. We took our sand toys (a dune buggy and three wheelers) and
drove up the coast to Pismo Beach for the weekend to get our mind off
the waiting. If the technicians in the labs only knew how painful it is to
wait on their test results, they would hurry up with the results. On our
return home we got the devastating news, I had cancer. It had been
growing inside my colon and had finally penetrated the rectum wall.
Stage Three rectal cancer. We were in shock. The feeling ran through
us like an electric shock. At first we could not believe it. We wanted a
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15. second opinion, but the GI said they would come later. From disbelieve
we moved to fear, then anger and finally acceptance. How could a
young, healthy thirty year old have Stage Three colon cancer? Why
me?
Dr. Hazen, my oncologist, was a friend of my sister, Gloria and
so we got in to see John immediately. He connected me Dr. Wyle, a top
surgeon at UCI Medical Center in Irvine, California. Upon further
examination, Dr. Wyle found lumps in my groin and after a needle
biopsy, it was determined that the cancer has spread to my surrounding
lymph nodes. The lymph system is the interstate highway of the body
and connects to all of the other major organs. Cancer cells can travel
that highway and Dr. Wyle was pretty sure that the cancer would show
up in my liver in the very near future. Urgent treatment was needed to
remove the cancer and prevent it from spreading through the lymphs to
the liver and other organs.
The tumor had to be removed immediately! Unfortunately, my
rectum to which the tumor was connected would also have to be
removed along with the descending colon. Any surrounding tissue and
lymph nodes that looked questionable would be removed during
surgery. There was some discussion about whether Dr. Wyle would
take my prostate, since the result of the surgery would be a permanent
colostomy. A colostomy is the rerouting of the colon to an opening on
the front of body with the rectum and anus removed and closed
surgically. No backside entry would be available for examination of my
prostate. It was Dr. Wyle’s recommendation, however, that my prostate
not be removed, since I was such a young man and would want to have
the urinary functionality that the prostate provides. I would probably
require a permanent colostomy and follow up treatments of radiation
and chemotherapy. Dr. Wyle and Dr. Hazen has a heated discussion
about using chemotherapy treatments post surgery. Dr. Wyle won the
argument and I agreed to hold off on the chemo. Dr. Wyle wanted to
15

16. save the chemo for when the cancer presented in my liver, which he
was certain would occur within six months. Dr. Wyle was developing a
direct chemo delivery system directly into the liver and was ready to
include me in his trial, if needed. Thank God, I the cancer did not
present in the liver. The cancer never presented anywhere else, nor did
it recur in my colon.
It was just a week from the initial diagnosis to surgery and what
a week that was. Our world had been blown up, like a stick of dynamite
had been tossed into our lives. There were pieces of our lives floating
around in a whirlwind of emotions, doctor visits, biopsies, scans, and
tests. Yet worst of all was breaking the bad news to our family and
friends.
The saying goes, “you don’t know your friends until the chips
are down.” Our experience confirmed this to be valid. The responses to
our news were quite diverse. Tricia’s family immediately put their
worries and surprise aside and rallied around me, Trish and the boys.
Peggy and Sharon (two of Tricia’s sisters) took turns staying at our
home to support Trish and me and help with our boys. They would ask;
what can I do for you today? How are you, today? Let me share your
burden. They emotionally and spiritually carried us through this very
difficult part of our cancer survival journey. My side of the family made
my cancer all about how it affected them. They would say things like; I
am so sorry! This makes me so sad? Who will take care of Trish and
the boys when you’re gone.
I was too busy at the time to really understand why people
reacted the way they did to the news, or to appreciate the impact their
choices would have on our relationships. These many years later, I
have forgiven them for the selfishness they demonstrated. The pain of
abandonment I felt toward those who acted selfishly is but a distant
memory. I wonder if they have felt any guilt or embarrassment from
their actions, or lack of action. Some of my journal entries during this
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17. challenging time provide a window onto my feelings:
3/10/86: Diagnosis of rectal cancer leaves me lost, afraid, and
unstable. Dr. Hazen recommends rectum removal surgery and
colostomy which requires “a bag out of my stomach to defecate into.
What a repulsive idea!
3/11/86: AM We are getting great support from Tricia’s family,
especially Peggy & Sharon and their Mom. Trish is great, with a super
positive attitude. I can’t imagine not having her to help and her family to
lean on. For those without support, it must be real Hell.
3/11/86: PM: Trish is down, crying, she is afraid. I feel OK,
accepting my situation, but I am nauseous. Trish is sure that her family
will help, this really makes it easier. I must go ahead with all of this and
get well for Trish and the kids. If it wasn’t for them, I’d just give up now.
3/12/86: I think I have fully accepted the fact that I have cancer
and that getting cured will be painful and troublesome and that my life
may have to change.
3/13/86: I am hopeful that a colostomy will not be required, but
Trish has been so supportive about having to “poop into a bag” and
Peggy said: “We love you for who you are, not how you go to the
bathroom.” That makes me feel more comfortable with the idea of a
colostomy. Damn I feel so good, how can I be so sick? Dr. Wyle
confirmed surgery with permanent colostomy and radiation therapy. I
have hoped for a different opinion, but I know that I must play the best
odds for long term survival. I’ve got to give Trish and the boys my best
shot at survival.
3/14/86: Trish and I spoke of my death today. It was much
more difficult for her than me, She said I was the only man for her ever,
so I’ve got to beat this so she is not left alone for the rest of her life.
3/15/86: Jeff (our son age 5) was listening to me talk on the
phone about the cancer and while I was talking he got out of bed and
came over to sit on my knee. I hadn’t even thought about him not
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18. knowing what was going on. He is so little. He told me: “I know about
you, Daddy.” I asked what he knew and he said he knew I was sick. I
told him that I didn’t hurt and that the doctors had to fix something
inside me so that I would be able to be with him for a long time and that
it wouldn’t hurt, but I might be a little weak for while and I would need to
grow strong again. That was enough for him and he smiled and went
back to bed. He told me on his way out of the room, “I know you are
going to be OK, don’t worry, Daddy.”
3/15/86: I went alone to see Dr. Wyle for some simple pre-op
instructions. Trish wanted to go but I assured her I would tell her
everything the doctor told me. Dr. Wyle had received the results from
the needle biopsies of the cells from my lymph nodes in my groin. They
were cancerous. The cancer had entered my lymph system, the body’s
super highway that could transport the cancer to all parts of my body.
My odds had just dropped from 50/50 to 70/30 against long term
survival past two years. Dr. Wyle had a peculiar way of communicating.
He would draw with a pen on the paper that lines the exam table. He
made a diagram of what my internal plumbing would look like post
surgery with my rectum gone and the lower third of my colon removed.
A small “stoma” would be created on my stomach through which I
would defecate using a medical appliance called an ostomy bag. Dr.
Wyle also wrote down the my odds for long term survival only 30%
chance. Before I left the doctor’s office I changed that the 3 to a 7, so
that it looked to Trish like I had a 70% chance for long term survival.
Unfortunately, she detected the change and called me on it. She was
furious that I had tried to deceive her and she made me promise to
never, ever lie to her again. I was afraid she would never forgive me,
but I didn’t want her to worry. What a very foolish thing for me to do,
and I have learned that Tricia is my partner in all things.
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19. Chapter Three: Treatment Trauma
3/17/86: AM: St. Patty’s Day (Admission into UCI Medical
Center) I appreciate the information that Dr. Wyle’s staff shared with
me about what to expect pre and post op. They told me that the
recovery room after surgery would be noisy, but not to worry that is
usual. They would wake me every 4 hours to take my vitals. There
would be med students touring the recovery room and discussing my
case. I would be in and out of it for several days. Dr. went over the
surgical procedure with us. Trish is so calm and confident that she
makes me sure of a successful outcome. Dr. Wyle said that I will have
a tube in my nose and drains from my backside, so don’t be alarmed.
Peggy and Sharon and Mom are all here for me. They will all be with
Trish tomorrow during surgery. Trish will have support during that time
and that takes such a load off my mind. I am able to focus all my
energy on preparing myself for a very invasive surgery and a long road
to recovery.
3/17/86: PM: The prep to clean out my colon is called Go-
Litely, but going lightly is not its purpose. I go fast and free with
everything I have eaten in the past year exploding out of me including
old crayons and wood chips. I spoke with a couple of other patients on
the floor. They have it so bad compared to me. I can feel their pain and
wish I could do something to help. Maybe after I recover, I can do
something to help others with their battles to survive cancer.
3/18/86: Surgery Day. Jerry, the RN, ran a nice hot shower for
me. It felt so good, I am relaxed and calm. It’s a beautiful day and with
the help of the doctors, my family and friends, I am going to get well!
They have given me something to help me relax and it is making me a
little groggy, Trish and Sharon and Peggy and Mom should be here
soon. I am look forward to seeing them and knowing they will be here
for me.
19

20. I am in intensive care for four days. The time after surgery is
really fuzzy, I do remember recovery being noisy, like the nurse said,
so that didn’t worry me. I remember Trish coming in to tell me that they
got all the cancer. I felt lost and alone, but a highlight was the sponge
bath I got. Oh what a delight in the midst of pain and confusion. I also
remember loads of med students coming by and asking a bunch of
questions. UCI is a learning center so maybe what they learn about my
case can help someone else down the road.
3/22/86: I can’t believe I’ve been out of it for 4 days! It seems
more like hours than days. My friend, Michael, stopped by with ice
cream and he seemed much more relaxed than he has since I told him
about the cancer. I can’t eat the ice cream, but seeing him is nice. But,
he keeps focusing on what limitations I am going to have as a result of
the colostomy. Funny how some people see the glass half empty, other
half full. I choose to focus on what I can do, and say the only limitations
are the ones I put upon myself. Trish was with me most of the day
today. She held my hand and cleaned me up and comforted me. She
said she felt better today, that she finally got a little sleep. Peggy said
that Trish has been real strong through all of this and the only time she
lost it was when the nurse call her in the surgical waiting room to say it
would be another 20 minutes and it was over an hour before they
finished surgery.
3/23/86: My stomach is waking up. Now I’ve got to deal with my
new way of going to the bathroom. Actually, the bathroom comes to me
via this bag attached to my stomach. I am still wearing the post op
transparent one piece, large ostomy bag. This thing is gross. It smells
bad and emptying the thing is horrible. This thing has got to go. I called
for the ET nurse and she brought a variety of ostomy products to show
me and together we selected a very comfortable two piece ostomy
product from Convatec. It uses a flexible 4x4 inch wafer with a
Tupperware like ring around my stoma. This connects with a small
20

21. opaque closed end ostomy bag that tucks nicely below the beltline of
my PJ bottoms. You can’t even tell I have a colostomy. Thank you,
Convatec and thank you, Lord!
3/24/86: Jerry the night RN is really a great guy. He told me
that most people feel differently after their hospital stay, but then as
time goes on they forget all the special things they felt. I don’t want to
forget how I am feeling now. I don’t want to go back to the way of
thinking and doing that put me here.
3/25/86: Trish told me of her conversation with Dr. Wyle right
after surgery. The tumor was the size of a softball. It was growing well
inside the rectum wall and only a small part happened to penetrate the
rectum wall and cause the pain that drove me to doctor. That was really
fortunate because this was an aggressive cancer and would likely have
spread out of control through my body and may have become
inoperable. He said that Trish’s actions of making me see the doctor
saved my life.
3/26/86: Peggy and Earl came up to pick up Tricia and brought
the boys. They were great! Jeff saw the catheter and really thought it
was something great. He said, “Hey Daddy, you get to pee in bag!”
Josh really talked up a storm. He was not afraid of my wounds or the
ostomy bag. I feel so much better that it is Daddy as usual with my
boys. Earl encouraged me by saying I really had a lot of “get up and go”
and that made me feel strong, even though I am as weak as a kitten.
21

22. Chapter Four: Cause Curiosity
3/31/86: This sickness has disrupted our lives for weeks now
and is not going to disrupt it any more. The disease (I couldn’t yet say
the word cancer) is gone now. It’s hard to describe the feeling of love
and caring I feel from Tricia, the boys, our family and medical team. I
am thankful and amazed at Trish’s dedication to me and her complete
commitment to my getting well. Thank God for her and her family who
have really stepped in to help with the house and kids, Trish and me.
They have earned a place in my heart forever!
I am becoming curious what may have caused the cancer. I
have mostly ruled out genetics, as both my parents lived well into their
80’s, both sets of grandparents lived into their 90’s and even into their
100’s in the case of my Dad’s Dad (Frank aka Pop) and my Mom’s
Mom (Lillian aka Nana.) No one died from or was reported to have any
type of cancer, except my sister, Gloria. She lost her battle with breast
cancer about ten years after my cancer presented. I think back to all
that time we spent together in the waters of the Newport Back Bay and
the fish and shellfish we gathered and ate from those dirty waters.
Maybe the poor air quality of the San Fernando Valley during
the sixties when that little boy was playing at recess and walking home
from school I remember coming home from school with an ache in my
chest that made it difficult to take deep breaths. As a teenager, I
worked around my Dad’s construction sites cleaning up the jobsites,
providing labor for the various subcontractors that worked on my Dad’s
crew building custom homes, first in Glendale, then in Newport and
Laguna Beach. Could there have been toxic or cancer causing
elements on and around the jobsites?
Once I became a mobile teenager, my diet consisted of the
occasion healthful mea at home or at my sister’s house, but mostly fast
food. I was in the best physical condition of my life during high school,
22

23. what with dirt bike riding, SCUBA diving, ocean activities, and school
sports including baseball, football and basketball. I spent most
weekends at Gloria’s, who was a health nut. She was way ahead of her
time with vitamins and supplements, organic produce, yogurt with
digestive cultures, veggie sandwiches with sprouts and whole grain
bread. And yet, she died of breast cancer at fifty five years of age.
My Dad was a yeller. You always knew when he was upset,
because he broadcasted it to the neighborhood, and that was a lot of
the time. I knew right away that whatever my Dad did for living, I did
know what I wanted to do professionally, but I knew I wasn’t going to
follow him into the family business. There were few times when things
seemed normal to me. He would always say to me; “Use your brain not
your back, my boy.” I took that advice seriously. My Mom was a peace
maker. She would take on others’ problems and keep quiet about your
own. Mom's solutions are to internalize your worries, swallow your pain,
and suffer in silence. Those are not the best lessons to learn on how to
effectively deal with stress. June Booth, a holistic nurse and friend of
the family flew down from Northern California to spend a couple of day
with me days at our home shortly after I returned home from the
hospital. June is also a physic. She quickly associated the cancer to
some emotionally traumatic events in my late teens. She felt that due to
my Mom’s example of dealing with stress, I had internalized the pain
and anger from that time in my life and it had literally turned by body
against itself. Cancer was the result of stress that was not properly
dealt with at the time.
23

24. Chapter Five: Surviving the Cure
I was in the hospital for nearly two weeks recovering from the
surgery that had removed several pounds of me including my rectum
and descending colon, the surrounding tissue in both the front and the
back of me. First I had to be sure my incisions healed completely. Then
I had to learn how to manage my colostomy. How could I manage with
no control of when and where I have a bowel movement? My new
rectum is called a stoma. A stoma is the cut end of my colon turned
inside out, like when you fold two socks together, and stitched down to
the outside of my abdomen right below the belt line. Stomas do not
have the muscles to close off and hold back the stool like a normal
rectum. An ostomy pouch is attached to the skin around the stoma to
catch the uncontrolled outflow of feces. It was a challenge to learn to
manage my colostomy, but I kept remembering what Peggy had said”
“We don’t love you because of how you go to the bathroom.”
Remembering her words helped me get through the embarrassment
when my bag would pop off and stink out the room, or have a bowel
movement at the dinner table. I called the home hospital nurse and she
came to our home to help me with a practice called “irrigation.” It
sounded like she was going to help me water the garden, but in
ostomy-speak, it really is giving yourself and enema through the stoma.
You hang a large plastic bag filled with warm water and flow it slowly
into the stoma. It fills up the colon and flushes out the stool into a large
open topped irrigation sleeve attached to the Convatec wafer via the
Tupperware-like sealing ring. After about an hour, my colon is empty. I
can now choose when I am going to have my daily bowel movements. I
feel an overwhelming sense of relief. After so many things that have
seemed out of my control, I now have control of my bowels again. I was
shocked when my home hospital nurse told me that due to the
colostomy, I would not be able to lift more than twenty-five pounds. This
24

25. news was nearly a devastating as the original cancer diagnosis. I would
not be able to play with my kids, lifting them into the air and up onto my
shoulders. I was in a real funk about this, when one of the boys came
running up to me and threw themselves at me. I instinctively grabbed
them and lifted them into the air for an airplane ride with no negative
effect at all. This was one of those limitations that I don’t accept, and so
it does not apply to me.
The nerve trauma caused by surgery has robbed me of the
ability to urinate on my own. I must to learn to self cath several times
daily. This goes on for several weeks, until I slowly begin to regain
control of my bladder. My incisions are healed enough to begin the next
phase of treatment, radiation therapy. This is a daily treatment,
everyday for 45 days, during which I am bombarded with radiation from
the front and the back to kill any remaining cancer cells in my pelvis
and groin. I get little blue dots tattooed on my hips as alignment targets
to be sure I am positioned on the radiation table the same each day.
With the radiation hitting me in the same place every day for thirty days
straight, I am getting burned badly. Dr. Koons, my radiologist is
concerned that my skin will not hold up to the full treatment regimen.
We were able to take a couple of days off to let my skin heal and finally
completed the treatments about a week late. The result was like
sticking my posterior into a microwave oven. It cooked me inside out.
By the end of the treatments, I had second degree burns over much of
my backside and lower abdomen. My prostate got cooked and
shriveled up to peanut size. My bladder has been so badly damaged
that I am frequently incontinent. I have ED, Erectile Dysfunction. For a
young man of thirty with a beautiful wife who both crave lots of
intimacy, we had to try something to resolve my ED.
We tried self administered shots into my penis. Getting the
dosage correct proved quite entertaining and sometimes painful. Too
little and my erection would not be firm enough. Too much and my
25

26. erection would last for hours. When the ads for Cialis and Viagra warm
you to see a doctor if your erection lasts for more than two hours, they
are not kidding. It hurts! We tried a big rubber band at the base of my
penis and a suction pump to draws the blood into a simulated erection.
Neither the shots nor the suction pump allowed for much spontaneity,
so I made an appointment with my urologists, Dr. Rudy and Dr. Young
to investigate a penile implant. This is a device with a two tubes running
inside the penis where the blood normally flows to create a natural
erection and a reservoir with liquid and a squeeze pump in my scrotum
to inflate and deflate the tubes in my penis. This sounded painful, but
the doctors assured me that once I recovered, we would enjoy an
active and enjoyable sex life. A couple of days after the implant, Dr.
Young, who was over six feet tall and Dr. Rudy who was well under six
foot came to see me in the hospital. I asked them when I was going to
get the stitches out of my scrotum and Dr. Rudy looked down at his
shoes and with a straight face said to me; “Sorry, can’t do it today, I am
not wearing my cowboy boots, which are essential to holding you down
while I yank out the stitches. I laughed so hard it hurt.
Trish and I were supposed to wait six weeks after surgery to be
sure I was all healed up. We made it to week three and pumped it up
and had a wonderful intimate time together. As good as our loving had
ever been. Another “glass half emply” limitation eliminated.
Unfortunately, penile implants are not designed with a young man in
mind. Most are installed in older men and limited use. Mine wore out
after fifteen years. Since then, Trish and I have experimented and
found many ways to please one another without my ability to have an
erection.
I have had severe attacks of pancreatitis; one put me in the
hospital for a week. As a result, I had my gallbladder removed. I have
had my urethra bored out with frequent urinary infections. I have been
losing the feeling in my feet and weakness in my legs. However, I am
26

27. battling back with daily Yoga at Biram and bicycle rides with Earl. I take
meds to help with digestion and wear urinary pads. When I start to feel
sorry for myself with these issues caused from the cancer cure, I
remember what Trish told me: “It’s better than the alternative, being
dead.” Amen!
I have an important message for the medical community and
others deciding on their cancer treatments. Choose an appropriate
treatment plan for your specific circumstance. Don’t rush to throw
everything you’ve got at the cancer, just to be sure you get it. I have
walked with many new cancer survivors through their diagnosis and
treatments, and frequently their docs will want to use multiple
treatments in combinations that may not be strictly necessary. “Better
safe than sorry”, I’ve heard them say. In my experience, excessive
treatment can reduce long term quality of life. The challenge is to
balance the treatment such that is it aggressive enough to defeat the
cancer, but not overly aggressive to reduce long term survivors’ quality
of life.
Early in 2000, I participated in a Hoag Cancer Center (Newport
Beach, CA) feedback program funded by the NIH (National Institute of
Health.) This pilot program brought cancer survivors together to provide
feedback on quality of life issues. This data was cataloged and
analyzed to give the medical community feedback on the long term
effects of various cancer treatment therapies. In the panel discussions
which I participated in, chemo-brain has worst impact on quality of life.
Loss of short term memory and difficulty in making previously simple
logical decisions were almost universal for patients who received the
chemo cocktails being used prior to 2000. Many of the survivors in the
study had only Stage 1 and Stage 2 cancers for which chemo may not
have been necessary.
27

28. Chapter Six: Why me Lord?
Occasionally, I find myself asking, “Why me, Lord?” Why did I have to
go through this? Why was I so unlucky. When I find myself asking
those questions, I quickly remind myself that going down that road is a
complete waste of whatever time I have left on the planet. The negative
energy that comes from those thoughts pollutes my life. Much the
same way as the SMOG in the San Fernando Valley in the 1960’s
polluted the lungs of young elementary school students who couldn’t go
outside at recess to play. Or swimming in the contaminated waters of
Newport’s Back Bay polluted me and my sister.
However, my experience in beating cancer and surviving for
twenty-six years has made me uniquely qualified to help others facing
the many challenges in their walks as cancer survivors. After about five
years post diagnosis and treatment, I began to feel the need to give
back to the cancer survivor community. I had made it past the first
hurtles; two years cancer-free, and five years cancer-free.
I began helping the Orange County chapter of the American
Cancer Society with fundraising events, cancer awareness events, and
coordinating Relay-for-Life events at the local high schools and college
campuses. Some of the most moving moments in any cancer survivor’s
life is walking the victory lap with all the cancer survivors at a Relay for
Life event. The pride and joy or having beat this awful disease and
sharing it with hundreds of others is incredible. I was so proud when
the Orange County Chapter of the American Cancer Society awarded
me with their 2005 “Most Inspirational Colon Cancer Survivor” Award.
My most rewarding activity is as a buddy and mentor to newly
diagnosed cancer patients. I was told by other survivors, especially
those newly diagnosed, that by just showing up and spending time with
them, they are“hope-filled”. I am a living example that the odds don’t
matter. They tell me they feel that if I could beat the odds and survive
28

29. so long, so can they. LeeAnn was suffering a recurrence of her cancer
when I began visiting her at Saddleback Hospital in Mission Viejo, CA.
Her spirits were lifted by my example and I sat with her and we talked
about all the things she would do when she beat the cancer. Her battle
went on for several months and she was never able to go home. But
the hopefulness she displayed during our time together made what little
time she did have much more pleasant. It was almost as though she
experienced in her mind many of the things we had discussed for her
future. Her passing was peaceful and without pain. There was a sense
of joy and peace in the room at the end of LeeAnn’s battle. I don’t know
why I made it and LeeAnn did not, but I can say that the time LeeAnn
had remaining was of a higher quality and more joy-filled due to her
belief that she was going to win the battle. She never gave up fighting,
right to the end. I have tremendous respect for her and her family.
It was then I began attending the cancer survivors’ support
group meetings at my local hospitals. I was developed a workshop to
assist cancer patients and their families move from Victims to Victors,
in honor of LeeAnn’s triumphant spirit.
Move from victim to victor. Don't play the victim. Yeah, it's
rotten, it sucks, it's scary, it hurts, it's depressing, and none of those
feelings are going to help me get better! Coming to the fight of my life
with a victor's attitude removes me from the "why me Lord" spot and
allows my body the extra energy it needs to fight off the cancer.
Sometimes, I can't get to the victory lap by myself, I need help. That's
when having supportive and positive family, friends and medical
professionals comes in. They are members of my army, my troops that
rally around me and lift me up when I don't feel like I can go on. Win or
lose, I'd rather believe I am going to survive and live as long and as
well as possible, than to lie down and die. Move from victim to victor.
Be sure to heal your "whole" self. We are more than just our
physical body that the cancer is attacking. We are body, mind and
29

30. spirit. When we marshal resources for the battle against cancer, we
must be sure to include what we need to win at the physical, emotional
and spiritual levels. When I was battling cancer the doctors and medical
professionals pretty much took care of the physical part. However, back
then there was little nutrition or physical activity guidance. I had to seek
help outside the system for good nutrition, vitamins, supplements and a
proper exercise routine.
On the emotional support side, seek out a mentor. Someone
your age, gender and similar life situation who has already experienced
what you are going through. On the spiritual side, I had everyone
praying for me. I gladly accepted spiritual assistance from the
Mormons, Catholics, Buddhists, Hindus, and Jews. My door was open
to anyone who wanted to pray, chant, anoint or sprinkle Holy Water
over me. I had my chakras aligned, my aura cleansed and anything
else anyone suggested. I found my connection to God as a result.
What I have finally come to understand in answer to the
question Why me Lord, is that by going through my battle with cancer
and winning, I am now uniquely qualified to offer hope, encouragement
and support to others fighting for their lives. I am energized with each
connection I make through my volunteer activities and believe with all
my heart that there is a greater purpose to my continued cancer free
life. Giving back is that greater purpose and one that I am uniquely
qualified to do due thanks to my experience in battling and beating
cancer.
Live a healthy lifestyle. Exercise 30 minutes every day. I prefer
a surf session daily, but walking, biking, swimming or your favorite
activity that elevates the heart rate (aerobic) for at least 30 minutes.
Good nutrition is essential to maintaining good health and cancer free
existence. Enjoy five servings of fresh fruit and veggies daily. Reduce
your consumption of red meat and fatty, rich foods. Reduce
consumption of alcohol, eliminate smoking, and unhealthy
30

31. environments.
Reduce stress: Schedule a quiet time each day to just relax
and let you body idle, change jobs if you have to, change where you
live, whatever it takes. I believe that stress is one of the major causes
of cancer, especially if you are not training on the proper ways to deal
with stress. Don’t internalize, let it out, but a yeller, like my Dad, not a
peace maker like my Mom.
Surround yourself with positive supportive people: Create an
environment of love, happiness and joyous people and circumstances.
In such an environment you are being charged with positive emotion
and energy. If you find someone or something is draining you of your
joy, choose not to be around them. Let them know that your continued
health is most important and if they can't make a positive impact in your
life you will be forced to disconnect from them. This is tough but
necessary, even and especially with family. You might be surprised at
their response; it might even allow them to see a better way of being for
themselves and for you.
31

32. Chapter Seven: Others’ Outcomes
I have been privileged to walk along side many other cancer
survivors in the past twenty-six years. Some, like me, are still walking
their paths here on earth, while others are resting in the comforting
arms of their god. Success in a cancer survivor’s journey is not defined
strictly in terms of years of survivorship. It is a combination of quality of
life, time with family and friends, pursuit of things we are passionate
about, happiness, mindset and more. Two survivors’ stories help me
illustrate this point.
Lillian is a nurse at CHOC, a leading children’s’ hospital in
Orange County, CA. She is a dedicated surgical nurse who in that
capacity has cared for many cancer patients using her unique
knowledge of what it means to fight cancer. Lillian’s journey as a
cancer survivor began with Stage 3 colon cancer. After surviving for
several years, the cancer returned in her liver. After surviving another
couple of years, the cancer returned in her bones. It was at this point
that our paths crossed. I was asked by Jeannie Moore of the Colon
Cancer Alliance to contact Lillian as her “cancer buddy.” Lillian and I
corresponded via email and Facebook for several months. Her attitude
is incredible, her will to keep on fighting after three cancer recurrences
inspires me. Lillian was on continuous sessions of chemo during which
she was pretty much on her back, returning to work and normalcy
between chemo sessions. It was during one of those chemo breaks
that Lillian asked if I could teach her and her family to surf. Surfing was
one of her“bucket list” items and I was more than happy to
accommodate. We manage to stuff her somewhat chemo-bloated body
in one of my wetsuits, and suited up her two daughters and son. We
grab several of my soft top beginner boards and head to Buckaneer
Beach in Oceanside for an afternoon of surfing. What a fun time we
have. Lillian enjoys watching all of her kids catch waves, and when it
32

33. comes to her turn, she is just too tired to try it herself. Her family and I
gather around her and we all walk out into the surf to enjoy some time
together in the water. Lillian passed recently and I am so thankful for
our brief time together. There were times on her journey, like the day
surfing, that provided Lillian great joy and I choose to believe the
unpleasant, painful times of her journey were offset by times of joy.
My sister, Gloria, noticed a lump in her breast while she was
cruising in Mexico. Upon her return to the States, she visited her doctor
who did a mammy and told her there was a lump. A needle biopsy
confirmed the lump was Stage 4 inflammatory cancer and had spread
to the surrounding lymph nodes. Her oncologist recommended a
mastectomy followed by chemo and radiation. She elected for chemo
only with no surgery. It was Gloria’s choice to take less radical
treatment option. We won’t know if that was a mistake, as she passed
away five years later. Once a cancer survivor chooses a path there is
little time for reflection. Playing “what if” mind games only draws down
our limited energy and resources, taking us away from fighting and
winning the battle with cancer. I was given a similar choice of
treatment plans. I chose the most radical which promised the best
chance for long term survival and I am still here and my sister is not.
Gloria’s journey was complicated by her desire to spare our
folks having to worry about her as she went through round after round
of chemo and radiation treatments. I remember Super Bowl Sunday
when the Forty-niners are playing the Bengals with Joe Montana
leading the Niners. It was down to the two minute warning in the
second half with Joe and Niners down by ten points. Joe leads the
Niners to a victory with two back to back touchdowns in the last two
minutes on the game. We went crazy! Yelling and screaming and I
looked over at Gloria who was clearly in severe pain and distressed
from all the loud noise around the room. Her arm was swollen to three
times its size due to the tumors in her lymph system blocking the
33

34. circulation of fluids in her check and arm. It was then I knew that she
had passed the threshold of quality verses quantity of life. She no
longer wanted to be in pain, she just wanted an end to her suffering.
Her journey went on for another two years, however.
She eventually tells our Mom, but they agree that the news
would be too great for our Dad to bear, so they keep the truth from him.
So much energy was spent trying to keep that secret: energy that
Gloria could have used to fight for her life. The memory of that terrible
day when Gloria lost her battle and we had to tell Dad that she was
gone will be with me forever. The rest of the family had five years of
preparation for this day. We had walked with her as her body was
ravaged by the disease and her condition declined. How my Dad did
not see it, I just can’t fathom. So we were somewhat prepared for her
passing. Dad was not given that time to come to terms with his
daughter’s illness and the news of her passing hit him hard. He
survived the initial shock, but lived only a year or two in declining health
and died of a stroke. After seventy years of marriage, my Mom’s health
declined rapidly after Dad’s passing and she died of what I believe was
a broken heart less than two years later.
What was learned from walking with both Gloria and Lillian on
their journeys? First, take the most aggressive treatment plan available
for the greatest possibility of long term survival. Second, know when it’s
time to say “no more” to continued treatments that may sustain life at
the cost of any quality of life. Finally, don’t waste valuable energy trying
to protect family and friends from what is happening to you. Let them
into your battle, allow them walk with you and lift you up with their love
and positive energy. Gather those around you whose energy adds to
your strength and distance yourself from those who draw energy from
you. You need all you have to win the fight for your life. No one has
more at stake than the person fighting cancer.
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35. Chapter Eight: Journey’s Joy
Whether we have twenty-six years or twenty-six days, fill your
journey with joy, love and positive energy. None of us have a guarantee
of tomorrow. We assume there will be a tomorrow for us but all we
really have is today, right now. Am I making the most of this moment?
Am I doing everything I can to provide my entire being with a healthy
and happy environment? These were the thoughts and discussions
around my house as the months and years passed and I did not die. I
had been climbing the corporate ladder. I had been making success in
the tech industry my primary goal while making lots of money, and
receiving numerous awards for the highest achievements in my field.
These no longer held the value they had previously as a cancer
survivor. Time with my young family, reduced stress and time with
those who really love and uplift us were the things I now found vitally
important.
We decided to sell our home in Mission Viejo, quit my tech job
at Western Digital in Irvine and moved to Folsom in Northern California
to enjoy our lives together with Peggy and Earl and our families. Slower
pace, less stress, more time to coach the kids in soccer, join the PTA,
take long walks among the oaks that filled the hills around our home in
Folsom. We still needed to eat and put gas in the cars and pay the bills.
Backing off on the career side was less stressful, but struggling
financially is just as stressful. Be careful to watch that balance or work
and home time. Enjoy every day and celebrate the little things that
bring you joy. Stop and smell the roses when you pass then on your
next walk or when puttering around in your yard.
My journey’s joy comes from the moments together with family
and friends, a quiet walk along the beach or a super fun surfing
session. Walking with other cancer patients on their survivor’s journey
is a blessing to me. My wife’s incredible beauty and strength fill me with
35

36. joy. The fathomless love and devotion of my family and friends make
my journey joyous. The love of my sons which I have been blessed to
see grow into such fine, wonderful men. Memories I would not have
had I lost my battle with cancer include Josh getting a special
recognition from the soccer ref when he helped a member of the
opposing team who had been tripped and fallen and was crying. Jeff
remaining alone in our white water raft after the rest of us had been
dumped out when we hit the rock in the middle of Troublemaker rapids
on the South Fork of the American River.
36

37. Chapter Nine: Living Well
In my 26 years as an ostomate, I have found release and relief
in humor. If I cannot laugh at myself, I am lost. I may spend valuable
energy in a vain attempt to hide my change in plumbing. I may turn
from activities I love because of the potential for embarrassment. I may
hide from those I love and care about, remaining separated from the
love I crave and deserve. I have an ostomy, and I am still a whole,
valuable and entirely normal person. As I continue my journey through
life as an ostomate and cancer survivor I am constantly changed by my
experiences.
Changed in some ways physically, but I am still whole
and complete. When faced with significant challenge in our lives, we
are changed. Some change is positive some not. The physical change
to our bodies from surgery and treatments can be unpleasant and
inconvenient. But we are limited only by what we make up about our
situation. If we make up that life with an ostomy is not worth living, we
will likely live into that belief. It becomes our truth. We may be changed
emotionally, but we can choose to persevere and grow stronger, with a
thicker skin to ward off hurtful comments and pass through
embarrassing situations. We can gain more faith than ever before. I
truly believe there is a higher power at work in our lives, and that there
is a special purpose for each of us to fulfill. A purpose that each of us is
uniquely qualified through our experiences to be of comfort to others
walking similar paths, as others are of comfort to us.
As a child, I thought I would live forever. My
grandparents lived well into their 90s and even 100+ years old. I had
always assumed I would enjoy a long and healthy life, as they did. They
did not think much of the medical community. I was brought up thinking
that if I just live a good life and have faith, all would be well. But at 30
years of age with a wife and two young sons, I was told I had less than
37

38. a thirty percent chance of living another two years. That prognosis
rocked my world! Where did the assurance go that all would be well if I
did my part faithfully? It flew right out the window of the doctor’s office!
My best hope for survival was radical surgery to
remove the lower portion of my colon and rectum, leaving me with a
permanent colostomy. What a revolting and disgusting thought! How
could I ever be attractive to my wife? Would we have the intimacy we
had so enjoyed? Could I play with my sons like a “normal” father
would? Could I continue in my profession and provide for my family.
What if I did not survive, and if I did, would life be worth living? I hope
that through your life experiences with a touch of humor and a dash of
good will, your answer will be the same as mine, HELL YES!
Most adults have about 4 feet of colon (large intestine) which
provides a connection between our small intestine and our rectum. Our
“poop shoot” where our digestive waste material (the part of what we
eat that does not get absorbed by our small intestines to fuel our body)
is formed into stool and eliminated during bowel movements. For those
with bowel disease like Ulcerative Colitis, Inflammatory Bowel Disorder
and colon cancer, there are many problems with this “factory original”
plumbing. Problems include intense pain and abdominal cramping,
chronic infections, frequent bowel movements, constipation and
blockage (believe neither one is pleasant), loose stools, explosive
diarrhea and even death. For those of us with these issues, a change in
our plumbing is required. In my case, due to a large rectal tumor and in
order to save my life, I had the lower portion of my colon removed,
along with my rectum, leading to a permanent colostomy. Please see
illustration below.
I was in the hospital for nearly two weeks recovering from the
surgery that had removed several pounds of me including my rectum
and descending colon, the surrounding tissue in both the front and the
back of me that contained the impacted lymph nodes, and any tissue
38

39. that looked suspicious to my surgeon. Cancer surgery is NOT a healthy
weight loss regimen. While in the hospital I was taught how to manage
my colostomy. A pouch attached by a Tupperware-like ring that seals in
the smells from my newly place rectum on the lower left side of my
abdomen. The “stoma” as my new rectum is referred to, is really just
the cut end of my colon turned inside out, like when you fold two socks
together, and stitched down to the outside of my abdomen right below
the belt line. My stoma does not have the muscles to close off and hold
back the stool, so the pouch is attached to catch the uncontrolled
outflow. Yeah, that’s pretty gross, I know, but hey, it’s better than the
alternative, which for me could well have been a short life and
unpleasant death to cancer. As my sis in law says, “We don’t love you
because of how you go to the bathroom.” She told me that early on in
the diagnosis and treatment phase of our journey to beat cancer and it
has stuck with me to this day. Thanks, Peggy!
Learning to live with and manage a shorter than
standard colon without my own way of holding my feces in has been
quite an experience. I used to get embarrassed when my bag would
pop off and stink up the room, or have a bowel movement in the middle
of a business meeting. But now, after 26 years, I have found great
products (see following chapter) and ways to take control of my bowel
movements and have control over my life again.
A memorable story from my many funny experiences
as an ostomate was the day I had to change my bag at work in the
upstairs executive wash room. It was a bit of an emergency situation.
My bag was about to explode and if I had tried to navigate the stairs to
the general employee restroom, I might not have made it. So I totally
stick up the executive wash room and just as I’m finishing up, Reggie
Jackson walks into the restroom. Reggie was our corporate “pitch man”
to get us into key accounts using his connections and public image. He
said something like, “Oh man, it smells like somebody died in here!”
39

40. Well, many a comeback ran through my mind. Like maybe, “It may
smell like it, but I didn’t die, I am still here, so just live with it, buddy.” Or
maybe, “Hey that’s the smell of life, not death.” But instead, I just
slipped out quickly with a comment like, “Yeah, that guy should have
used some air freshener.” Later on, when Reggie and I had the
opportunity to travel with Reggie on a trip to a big client, Dell
Computers in Austin, I was able to come clean with him about having a
colostomy and being responsible for sticking up the executive wash
room. We had a good laugh about it and Reggie opened up about his
concerns about having a colonoscopy. You never know what situation
will present an opportunity to encourage someone to be screened for
colon cancer and save a life, but when the opportunity arises, take it!
I want to encourage people to talk about issues
related to bowel disease without embarrassment, leading to early
diagnosis of issues providing better outcomes. I literally “sat” on my
issues for more than a year because I was too embarrassed and afraid
to speak to anyone about it. I kept a secret, a nearly fatal secret. If I
had only felt comfortable talking about my issues and others had felt
comfortable talking to me about getting screened, I may have had a
much easier time in treatment and post-treatment. There are proved
benefits to having open, honest dialog about previously “unspeakable”
issues. Take breast cancer as an example. Twenty years ago breast
cancer killed the majority of women who contracted the disease.
Twenty years ago it was unacceptable to talk about a woman’s breast
and to suggest self examinations was taboo! Now, twenty years later
early detection of breast cancer, self exams and yearly mammograms
lead to early detection and treatments which have increased break
cancer survivorship to more than 50%. Breast cancer is no longer a
death sentence. Why? Because it is now OK to talk about it. It is all
over the press and there is a public awareness event going on regularly
all over the county and the world. We must get colorectal cancer and
40

41. bowel diseases to this same level of acceptability and public
awareness. Colon cancer is actually one of the few preventable
cancers. Find the polyp, remove the polyp and prevent the cancer.
I have hiked to the top of Mt. Whitney (elevation 14,495 feet)
twice as an ostomate. I teach surfing www.surfrandy.com. I swim, bike,
practice Bikram hot yoga and live a very active life. I volunteer with the
Wounded Warriors program to assist in the rehabilitation of our
returning soldiers, sailors and marines. I am a big brother in the BIGS
program for sons of active service families. I do not accept any
limitations on my life due to my ostomy.
There is nothing I did before surgery that I cannot do
post-op with an ostomy. On the way up Mt. Whitney, I actually had an
advantage of convenience over the rest of my hiking party. They had to
bring extra gear to pack up and pack out their waste, while I just did my
usual ostomy thing. Sometimes it pays to poop in a bag.
I know several world-class swimmers with ostomies
whose race times are as good or better than before surgery. I can be in
the water for hours with complete confidence. I have had a few
accidents. One time when I had been in the ocean a long time and not
wearing a wetsuit, I get took a pretty bad wipe out off my surfboard. I
came up coughing and spitting out water and I say my ostomy bag go
floating by. Did you know they float? Hey, fish go the bathroom in the
ocean, so what’s a little more of mine going to hurt? I’ve learned to
carry extra supplies in my beach backpack and I am amazed at how
easy it is to apply ostomy products under a towel.
I remember another time when I had surfed all day.
When I finally got out and striped off my wetsuit to shower, I found my
colostomy bag down around my ankle. Yikes! I was in the public
restroom at La Jolla Shores and I got a couple of funny looks and a
comment or two. I could have gotten embarrassed and flustered, but I
chose humor instead. I said something like, “ Hey, how did that get into
41

42. my wetsuit?” So what’s the big deal anyway? I enjoyed a full day or
surfing. So what’s a little poop in your suit? I really loved that wetsuit!
There is a refining of the soul that one experiences through
significant trials, whether it’s surviving a near-death experience, battling
back from a devastating injury, battling cancer or coming to grips with
life as an ostomate. In my brokenness, if I am really honest with myself
and others, I separate the really important stuff from the insignificant.
With courage and in love, I discard the insignificant and gather the
important elements together to frame a new way of being. A better,
stronger and simplified life based on the strength gained in the crucible.
I made it, I survived and I am thriving as a result of my life experiences
and the trials along the path. I now know that I can overcome
obstacles. I am more than my problems, I have risen to the challenges
and overcome them. I am a successful survivor and in doing so I’ve
gained confidence in myself and those in my inner circle of supporters.
An unfortunate misunderstanding caused me a lot of
grief while recovering from surgery. I thought I heard my ET nurse (now
WOCN) say that I would never be able to lift more than 25 pounds as a
result of having a colostomy. This was totally devastating as I had
enjoyed working out in the gym, tossing our sons around and generally
rough-housing to the distress of Trish and our furnishings. As it turned
out, the weight restriction was only related to my recovery period! I
joyously discovered my error about six months after surgery when one
of the boys came running to me and without thinking grabbed him up
and swung him around over my head. It just goes to show the power of
words and how acceptance of those words can manifest into
unnecessary limitations. I had wasted month of rough housing with my
boys because of a presumed limitation.
I am happy using quality Convatec ostomy products. I use a
two piece system that is composed of a moldable wafer that attached
skin around my stoma and a closed end pouch that attaches to the
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43. wafer via a “Tupperware type” ring. For a short video of the products I
use and also a brief video on irrigation, please go to my YouTUBE
channel at http://youtu.be/Qy9S03sHggc
Recently, I’ve been privileged to get a peek behind the curtain
to meet many of Convatec’s sales, support and management folks. My
connection to them came in August 2011 at the annual UOAA (United
Ostomy Associations of America) meeting in Reno, NV. I was asked by
the Colon Cancer Alliance, an online cancer survivor community and
advocacy non-profit, to attend the UOAA conference and do “booth
duty” at their table in the exhibit hall. It was a blast! Trish got to go with
me and CCA paid for the hotel and meals and gas to get there and
back home to Folsom. An added plus was that it was held the same
week as the Hot August Nights hot rod and classic car exposition which
I enjoyed. A couple of booths over from the CCA table, Convatec had a
large booth and a section was dedicated to Great Comebacks, a
program that Convatec sponsors with Rolf Benirschke, the former place
kicker for the San Diego Chargers football team. Great Comebacks
highlights the stories of ostomates from around the country who are
willing to share their comeback stories. Rolf’s story is one of my
favorites. For more info go to www.greatcomebacks.com. Trish was
making the rounds at the conference, collecting swap and met Rolf.
She runs back to the CCA booth and drags me over to meet Rolf.
Within minutes we connect and Rolf insists I submit my great
comeback story for consideration. I am recognized as the best
comeback story submitted in the Western Region in 2011! Convatec
flies Trish and me and Sasha (my service dog and four legged child) to
Salt Lake City, all expenses paid for the awards ceremony. I am asked
to speak to a group of fifty plus WOCNs (Wound, Ostomy and
Contenance Nurses) to tell my comeback story. They loved hearing
from me, a seasoned ostomate, as the WOCNs typically engage with
the new ostomate in the hospital and shortly after discharge to help
43

44. them learn to manage their ostomies. But then don’t hear back from
most of us after that initial period. Like a mother bird sending their little
ones off after learning to fly. They hope for the best, but seldom learn of
the results of their nurturing.
I am continually amazed and inspired by other otomates’
stories, blog posting and forum discussions. There are a number of
great online and face-to-face opportunities to engage with other
ostomates including www.inspire.com, www.uoaa.org,
www.ccalliance.org, www.cancer.org, www.couragetoshine.com, and
others.
A Concerned Mom
Post: My son is 19-years old and he will soon have a colon
removal surgery. Of course, we would like to help him to ease the
recovery process as much as possible. Unfortunately, from our own
experience, we know that sometimes, what helpers consider as a help,
makes things harder for the ones who need this help. My question for
everyone who went through a surgery: what did you want your family
and friends to do and what did you want them NOT to do during your
recovery?
Thanks.
Reply: His personality is what will determine what he will need
from you and the fact that you are asking tells me you will be sensitive
to his needs. I have three daughters, none ostomates, but all three
needed completely different involvement from me with their
pregnancies. Just be encouraging, positive, and treat him like the man
he is. If he needs to yell (or cry) occasionally don't freak out. Life is not
fair, as he has already learned, but it is so wonderful if he can learn to
look for the wonder. What YOU probably need is to be encouraged that
his life is about to improve after a hopefully short recovery and
adjustment period.
44

45. Reply: Hello and thank you for your post,
It's great that you are reaching out in advance of your son's
surgery to gather information and get input that will aid him in his
adjustment to life with an ostomy. My experience as a young person
(age 30) coming to grips with living with an ostomy and what was most
helpful from those who loved and supported me are:
1. Don't make me feel that I am any different a person that I
was before surgery (because I am not!)
2. Encourage me to do all the things I love to do, as an ostomy
does not make me any less able to live a full and active life.
3. Help me deal with those embarrassing moments as an
ostomate with humor (ever try to match your bag with your shoes?)
4. Tell me that you love me for who I am, not how I go to the
bathroom.
5. Remind me when I'm struggling with my ostomy that it's
better than the alternative (in my case, being dead!)
Please call, post or email anytime!
Mom Post: Thank you all for your responses. They are really
helpful for me.
My biggest problem is that after having UC for almost half of
his life, my son doesn't really know how to feel himself without checking
how far away the nearest restroom and how many people are waiting in
line.
Reply: UC was my diagnosis too, I would still get that panicky
feeling sometimes, and it took awhile to realize I did not need to be
chained to the toilet any longer, a whole new world will open up for him,
like most things in life it is a process. You will have to let it happen and
support him through it. When he is ready I highly suggest talking to
other young people with ostomies, this will really help him, when he is
ready.
45

46. Mom Post: Thank you again for the advice. I'm planning to
introduce him to this group first. This generation is doing better
"virtually" any way.
An Issue of Intimacy
Post: How do you regain a normal relationship again with your spouse
after ostomy surgery? I had my surgery in July 2011 and still do not
share a bed with my hubby. Have tried sex twice and it was
uncomfortable both times.
Reply: Why was it uncomfortable? Be honest with yourself and
determine if it was something new after what’s happened to you. This
would include wondering if you are going to have problems with your
pouch, will it leak, will it be a disaster, will it be in the way? If that is the
problem, try to relax about it. Empty before you become intimate, and
sometimes it is an inconvenience to do that. It’s not like on TV, it is hard
to be spontaneous with an ostomy. Some company's produce a small
pouch that is appropriate for intimacy. If the equipment is not the
problem, is it because you are not feeling like a desirable woman? Do
glasses make a woman less desirable? NO! This is something that you
and yours need to convince yourself of. You are still a woman with the
same cares, feelings, and desires as before. Your body is now rid of a
disease that was hurting you. Your ostomy should give you a freedom
that you have not known for a long time.
Reply: Check out the OstomySecrets website and newsletter. I
have a couple of wraps from them, and you will be pleased with how
helpful they are for both everyday use and intimacy. They also have
some neat female and male underwear and such designed for us folks
with ostomys...
Reply: Thank you for posting such an intimate issue. That
takes real courage! With all the great ideas in the many posted replies,
I don't know how much I can add from a male ostomate's perspective,
46

47. but here goes. At age 30, I had surgery to remove a large rectal tumor
and as a result have had a permanent colostomy for 26 years. The
surgery and radiation treatment also caused permanent ED. My wife
and I had enjoyed a close, intimate relationship before the surgery, but
found many challenges reconnecting after. Fortunately, she never
made me feel that I was less desirable because I had a pouch, but the
ED was an issue for me. I didn't feel like I could perform and this
increased my anxiety and reduced my desire for intimacy. I decided to
have a penile implant a year after the cancer surgery and that provided
a much needed boost to my libido. We have enjoyed 25 years of
intimacy since then and even after the implant failed about 10 years
ago, we have enjoyed discovering together new ways to please one
another. I've made it sound simple, but it was not. There were lots of
tears, anger (mostly from me), embarrassing and challenging moments,
but we always worked through them together. If the "together"
connection is missing for you, I would suggest getting some
professional counseling as a couple. Some issues are just too big to
get over on your own and there is nothing wrong with seeking
professional help.
Healthy survivorship is an art. Like all art there is no right or
wrong ways to do it. Each of us are unique and our unique
circumstances will dictate our own best expression of successful
survivorship.
We are living altered lives as ostomates. We may face
discrimination or isolation because of ignorance of our condition,
abilities and lifestyle. A good survivor has been described as someone
who has learned to integrate the reality of the disease into their
existence during and after treatment. Below are some great
suggestions and thoughts from Jolene Rowe a licensed Clinical Social
Worker and Social Work Supervisor at H. Lee Moffitt Cancer Center
47

48. and Research Institute. More info at
http://www.ccalliance.org/library/chats.html
When our feeling and needs are not expressed, it is easy to
make stuff up about why things are going the way they are or the way
someone is reacting to you. Expressing your feelings and concerns
openly will give those around you a chance to let you know what really
is going on, not what you might make up in the absence of good dialog
and relationship.
Adopt a participatory practice of being a part of getting well.
Utilizing each of our own personal strengths and bringing around us a
strong network of support in those areas where we recognize our own
personal strength is lacking. Invest in changes in lifestyle as needed
and work to regain a feeling of control
Seek the information you need for treatment decisions and
even more so after treatment is completed and you are post treatment
and feel like you are on your own, after having been surrounded by
medical professionals during active treatment. Be sure all information
you act on is reviewed and discussed with your medical professionals
to ensure its valid and correct for you.
Learn to negotiate and identify you own personal goals and
limits that you will accept from yourself, your family and friends and
your medical professional. There may be trade off caused by changes
in your physical condition, emotional state and financial situations.
Cognitive techniques are based on the way we think about
what is happening to us or has happened to us. If we blame the illness
on ourselves for not taking better care, we may grow depressed by
guilt. Or even worse, to feel as though we deserve what has happened
to us. That’s just wasteful and hurtful and of no value.
Being able to reframe how we look at things to view them in a
more positive light. Affirmations like, I deserve good care, I can take
48

49. good care of myself, I can get through this are all positive and helpful
statements to make to yourself.
Visualization of a favorable outcome to a treatment, or that an
action we need to take will have a positive outcome will help get us
going, reframe our thoughts and set aside our fears that may hold us in
check and not take actions we should to maximize our health.
Healthy eating, good lifestyle choices and increased exercise
can provide both physical and emotional benefits. By taking actions to
improve our health and participate in getting better, we regain a sense
of control that is so often lost through diagnosis and treatment. Yoga,
meditation, relaxation and mind/body feedback can provide comfort and
stress release and should be included in your post-op life as an
ostomate.
Use your imagination for a specific purpose. Go to your “happy
place” in your mind and have an experience of the quality of that reality
through active daydreaming. This can be very effective to assist with
reducing side effects of chemotherapy and pre and post op to improve
outcomes and reduce recovery time. www.HealthJourneys.com
Journaling, expressive arts, music, dance, poetry, painting all
can be ways to help release our anxiety and improve our self esteem.
Ostomates can lose our identity due to the significant physical change
and the emotional and relational changes we experience. We’ve got to
keep our ostomy in perspective. It cannot be allowed to become the
new focus of our lives to the exclusion of the things we did or enjoyed
before having the ostomy. Humor and sprit renewal and refresh will
bring peace and meaning to our lives as ostomates.
Giving back and sharing our experiences with others in the
ostomy community and elsewhere are very helpful and allows us to
understand why this has happened to us. Happiness in a Storm is a
great book in this area by a practicing physician who had cancer with
49

50. multiple recurrences and had to give up medical practice, but now finds
joy in helping patients through her writing.
Close chapters that are not serving you in a hopeful and
positive way. Pursue the profession of your passion, move to your
dream place, and engage with people in a new and positive way. Hope
is the belief that there can be a better outcome and that I can improve
my own situation through the choices I make. Plan for the future; enter
into new relation 1ships to validate your determination to have a long
and positive life as an ostomy.
Be open to asking for help and listen to friends and family when
they have the courage to speak to you about an issue they see in you.
Accept the help that is offered and seek out support from others who
have traveled a similar path and experiences. One to one, in a group, in
an online community and utilize the social services that are available
through your medical professionals and the many organizations
available to you, such as UOAA, Inspire.com, Great Comebacks and
others. You are not alone. There are nearly a three quarters of a million
ostomates in our community. Reach out, we want to help!
50

51. Diagnosis to Treatment
3/10/86
5PM: Diagnosis of rectal cancer Feeling lost, afraid, unstable. Dr.
Grover recommends removal surgery and colostomy which requires a
bag out of my stomach for defecation. Very negative, repulsive idea
initially. Easy to tears. Spoke with parents. They are very upset, can’t
and won’t believe it. Ate dinner, good appetite. Watched a John Wayne
movie, The Hellfighters, and slept well until 3PM, Then woke up, took a
shower and went back to sleep.
3/11/86
AM: Great family support from Peggy and Sharon. Trish is great, super
positive attitude. I can’t imagine not having her to help and her family
too. For those without family, it must be real Hell.
PM: Trish is down, crying, she is afraid. I fell OK, acceptance, but
stomach is nauseous. Trish is pleased and sure that her family will
help. This really makes it easier on us. I must go ahead with all of this
and get well for Trish and the boys. If it wasn’t for them, I’d end it now. I
must support Trish now; I’ll need her support later. The time after the
surgery will be very difficult. Only then will I know how bad the cancer is
and how long to recover.
3/12/86
AM: I seem to have gotten a good night’s rest for the first time in what
seems like an eternity. Trish and I made love this morning. It was real
51

52. good for both of us. I had no performance issues or pain related
distraction. Business as usual today. Todd from Gateway seems
concerned so I told him the straight scoop. It made me feel better to
share it with someone else besides family. I talked to my boss and told
him the whole story. He said it was OK, I didn’t have to take vacation
time and that being off for 4-6 weeks would be OK. We’ll work it out, he
said. That really made me feel at ease. Linda (our former neighbor from
San Jose) said she would pray for me every hour.
I think I have fully accepted the fact that I have cancer and that getting
cured will be painful and troublesome, and that my life may be changed
after it is all over. I am hopeful that somehow, I won’t need a colostomy,
but even if I do, Trish has been so supportive and positive about having
to “poop in a bag.” Peggy said, “They love me for who I am, not how I
go to the bathroom.” That makes me feel more comfortable with the
idea. Dr. Grover said there was a society of colostomy patients. When it
becomes certain I will need one, I’m going to contact them to get a
better idea of what its all about, so as to be better prepared. (I never
got a chance to make that connection before the surgery and when I
woke up with a colostomy, it was a real shock!)
I feel so sorry for someone alone to have to go through something like
this. You really get to know who your friends are. Tonight I spoke with a
lifelong friend, Michael. He told Amy (his gram) and that worries Trish.
Amy is so sick herself that she doesn’t need my worries added to her
own. I asked Michael to help me load the three wheelers. He has naval
reserves this weekend and said he would call if he could help. If he
doesn’t call, that will speak volumes about where his head is at about
supporting me through this. (I don’t remember if he came by to help or
not.)
52

53. Trish has said she doesn’t want to ask Michael or my family for help,
and now I know why. She knows they will let us down. I don’t know why
I’ve been kidding myself all these years. My parent will not help us and
once I’m alright, they will find excuses not to help us recover financially
or emotionally. Gloria (my sis) wants nothing but positive thoughts and
internal armies marching against the cancer, but I wonder how far her
positive attitude will go when we need something that conflicts with her
opinions or schedule.
We spoke with the surgeon at UCI Med Center, Dr. Allen Weil. My
appointment with him is on Thursday at 9AM at the UCI campus. I am
to bring the biopsy slide with me. If radiation is needed it will be done in
Mission Viejo, close to home. I will need blood tests; X-rays, scans and
then the decision will be made if I’ll have only surgery, or surgery plus
radiation and chemotherapy.
PM: The pain pills that Dr. Hazen gave me and a little Preparation H
seem to eliminate most of the pain, just the deep dull throbbing ache
remains. Damn it! I feel so healthy, how can I be so sick?
3/13/86
UCI Med Center: Dr. Weil took fluid from the lymph glands in my groin
to check for cancer cells. Tick tock, the doc is checking the fluid, tick
tock, tick tock. He’s back, YES there are definite tumor cells in my
lymphs. This is NOT good news. My odds are now 70/30 against long
term survival. The operation will take about 3 hours. I’ll be in the
hospital for a day or two and I’ll feel like getting up and around in a
couple weeks after surgery. Six weeks after surgery we’ll begin the
radiation treatment outpatient. Three months total treatment time.
(Note: I was actually in the hospital for 11 days.)
53

54. Radiologist’s office: Dr. Koons. His offices are beautiful and the people
are very nice. Patients have made stained glass and ceramic items for
his office. It is very comforting. Ruth is the doctor’s assistant. She has a
ten year old son that she thinks is great. BP 120/64, a bit high for me.
Dr. confirms what Dr. Wiel recommended. Let’s go, need blood work
and X-rays. They tattoo me with little blue dots so I can be aligned on
the radiation table in the exact same way for every treatment.
PM: Got a nice letter from my nephew, Michael Haight. It was so very
touching and helpful that it made me cry. I was a lot afraid this morning
after the meetings with the doctors. They confirmed Dr. Grover’s
recommendation of removal of the rectum, colostomy and radiation
treatment. I had hoped for a conflicting opinion, but I know now that I
must play the safest odds and go ahead with the surgery and radiation
treatments. I’ve got to give Trish and the boys my best shot at survival.
Trish and I spoke of my death at lunch today. It was much more difficult
for her than for me. It made me cry when she told me that she would
not remarry and that I was the only man for her EVER! Talk about
having something to live for! Steve Rodriguez from work called today
and offering his unconditional support and that of his wife and family.
He is a very special person. I must have some kind of luck to have
found friends and loved ones like Steve, Linda and Angel, Peggy and
Earl, Sharon and Eric, Mom, Myrna and especially Trish.
Our sales VP, David Shafer called tonight. Steve had left him a note
about my condition. He was very concerned and most comforting. He
assured me that my job was secure and that if he or Darchelle could be
of any help to call them.
54

55. I feel good about the decision to go ahead with the surgery and hope I
can keep my spirits up through-out my recovery. Trish said she was a
little down tonight, but I was able to lift her spirits. We agreed that we
both can’t’ be down at the same time.
3/16/86
We got rained on at Pismo, but it was a very good visit with Marilyn and
Royce and Sharon and Eric. Tracy gave me a big kiss and hug. Marilyn
cried, Royce babbled, Eric was cool. Everyone has called tonight,
Richie (brother), Pam and John, Dave and Darchelle are going to visit
and pray for me tomorrow night in the hospital before surgery. Gloria
called and offered to go to the hospital on Tuesday. John asked me to
be his best man if his brother doesn’t’ make it. Even if he does, Pam
wants me to give her away. They really are giving me reason to stay
around.
Gary Koopman (my boss) called and wished me all the best and
offered us any and all support we needed and told me not to worry
about work. He will take care of everything and for me to call when I’m
ready to come back to work.
Peggy and Mom drove down from Sacramento tonight. They got here
shortly after we got home. It is very comforting to have Peggy here.
She makes Trish feel much more at ease and she makes me feel warm
inside. Earl is going to fly down this weekend and they will drive back
home together. Jeff is so excited to have his Nanie here; he is sleeping
with her tonight.
Jeff was listening to me talk with Gloria and Darchelle on the phone
and while I was talking he got out of bed and came over to sit on my
55