In presentations that I have given through the years I have jokingly mentioned that I am apparently a slow learner. Well, it has now dawned upon me that it is possible that it is not a joke. Maybe I really am a slow learner.
Major events in life tend to get our attention. It seems like one or two major catastrophic events would suffice for learning purposes. That has not been the case in my life. At this point, there have been three cancer diagnoses over the course of 40 years, open heart surgery, two heart ablations, and five cardioversions just to name a few of the lessons listed on the syllabus. I don’t recall signing up for this particular degree.
My first cancer diagnosis was on July 17, 1986. Yes, it will soon be forty years since that devastating diagnosis. Getting that news as a young adult in the prime of life was quite the shock. Just a few short years earlier I was playing both basketball and baseball at the collegiate level. Now, suddenly, I needed help to just get out of bed. A total of 52 days were spent in the hospital over a four month period.
Being diagnosed a second time 15 years later hit quite differently. By that time, I was married and we had two young children. The lessons were looked at through a very different lens at this point in time. The first diagnosis was all about me. Look at what I am losing. The second diagnosis was all about what my family loses if I don’t survive this. My kids will grow up without a dad being present. Hmmm. Was I maturing? Was I moving from selfishness to selflessness? (The jury is still out.)
Two years after that diagnosis came the need for a mitral valve repair. Open heart surgery was a new arena for me. I always felt cancer was giving me time to prepare. Death would not happen suddenly. As the cardiothoracic surgeon explained the procedure in great detail for repairing or replacing the mitral valve, I knew the possibility of something going wrong could result in never waking up. That was a new lesson on the syllabus of life.
After surgery, the heart surgeon said, “That will fix it for a while.” I got about eleven years out of it. Unfortunately, in the last ten years I have had two heart ablations and five cardioversions in an attempt to keep my heart in rhythm. The chemotherapy drugs from my treatments in 1986 damaged my heart.
I have learned more about the medical industrial complex than I ever cared to know. Learning the medical jargon and understanding the procedures and processes help put the mind at ease from the fear of the unknown. However, wouldn’t it have been awesome to not have needed to learn these things? (Just wondering.)
Finally, we arrive in 2026. How do you celebrate Fat Tuesday/Mardi Gras? I celebrated by fasting, doing the prep for a colonoscopy, and actually having the colonoscopy on Fat Tuesday. Good times!
A blood test had revealed that I was anemic. An endoscopic procedure and colonoscopy were utilized to try to find the source of internal bleeding. The colonoscopy revealed a large, cancerous tumor in the ascending colon. That was not the news I expected to hear as soon as I woke up from the colonoscopy. The gastroenterologist said we needed the pathology report to confirm it, but he was certain I had colon cancer. A few days later the pathology report confirmed that finding.
Diagnosis was on February 17. Surgery was on March 17. Did you think my celebration on Fat Tuesday was phenomenal? Look at the party I planned on St. Patrick’s Day. Colon cancer surgery! Do I know how to live or what?
Anyway, at this point, I am nearly two months out from surgery. Recovery has seemed slow, but I am not as young as I used to be. Bouncing back takes on a different perspective now versus forty years ago.
Prognosis looks good. No other organs appear to be impacted. All the lymph nodes that were removed during surgery tested negative as well. We are simply doing vigilant surveillance at this point. The first year is always crucial.
My dear family, friends, followers, and parishioners at Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton:
The challenges of life can seem immense. I know that from first-hand experience. I intend to share more thoughts and reflections as time moves on about what I have experienced and what I have learned in the process. Having forty years of hindsight now gives me a very unique lens with which to evaluate and assess the pilgrimage of life. Suffering is a difficult journey, but the graces that come with it are truly profound. I realize that I could have never learned some of these difficult and complex lessons from a textbook. I had to be more united to the Cross of Christ to grasp the teachings.
As for now, I simply want to thank you for your kindness, care, and compassion. Your intercessory prayers on my behalf are truly appreciated.
I look forward to being with the parishioners at Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton again very soon as I start easing back into some ministerial responsibilities. If all goes as planned, I am scheduled to be the deacon and homilist at the 5:00 pm Mass on Saturday, June 13, and the 8:00 am Mass on Sunday, June 14. I thought that would be a good way to celebrate being nearly three months out from surgery at that point.
Please continue to pray for me as I continue to pray for all of you.
St. Peregrine, pray for us!
Blessings and peace!
Deacon Vernon