Who could have imagined where the journey of life would lead? First of all, after being diagnosed with cancer at the age of 25, I never anticipated living this long. It has not been an easy road, but I am still alive and kicking. Feeling fragile and exhausted has been a repeated part of the lifelong experience, but that has also been part of the learning experience.
Although the hospital was much smaller in 1986, it is the place where life-saving treatment was provided for me. Little did I know that this would not be my last battle with cancer. It has been 40 years since the first diagnosis, 25 years since the second diagnosis, and five months since the third diagnosis. Open heart surgery to repair my mitral valve happened in 2003. Yes, that was 23 years ago. It almost seems like an afterthought to mention two heart ablations and five cardioversions in the last ten years as well.
When I wrote the book, “Articulating Hope,” I did my best to capture the many emotions that accompanied the early part of the journey. I realize that it still falls short of conveying the magnitude of the roller coaster ride that comes with being diagnosed with cancer. As I experience yet another round in this seemingly endless battle, I come into it with greater understanding and detachment from the things of this world. That doesn’t mean it is like a walk in the park, but it is a journey viewed through a very different lens than 40 years ago.
Speaking of a walk in the park, St. Joseph Health Center is just a couple blocks up the hill from Frontier Park and the Missouri River in St. Charles, Missouri. This park has always attracted me. The peace and contentment of a warm summer evening along the Missouri River is indeed a blessing, although mosquitoes really seem unnecessary.
This same park, which typically brought joy to me, became a source of anger while I spent 52 days in the hospital. On days when I felt well enough to walk to the end of the hall and look out the window and view the park and the river, it made me bitter. People were out enjoying the park like nothing was wrong. Did they not care that I was in the hospital? The river felt like a symbol of my life. It was flowing by without me being part of the journey.
Realizing that the world continued to spin and people continued on with their lives was a harsh reality to face. My illness and treatments were not impacting those people passing by on the sidewalks. My illness did not hinder people from gathering in the park and enjoying themselves. My presence in the hospital went unnoticed from almost everyone except my family and friends. That was a humbling realization.
A diagnosis of cancer immediately sends a person into the world of unknown. Will I survive? Will I need surgery? Will I need chemotherapy? Will I need radiation? Will I lose my hair? How long will this last? Uncertainty seems to be the only certainty in a battle with cancer.
Scans, blood work, and waiting are a repetitive process in the cancer journey. I prayed for patience. I was given the opportunity to learn the virtue in a multitude of ways. Waiting is a key component in today’s medical industrial complex.
As I celebrate 40 years of survival since my first cancer diagnosis, I recognize the many difficulties and challenges through the years, but I also recognize the many graces and blessings along the way. This experience has taught me about prayer, patience, and perseverance. It has taught me about caring, compassion, and consolation. It has taught me about suffering, stability, and sanctity.
Where do things stand for me at this moment in time? My surgery for colon cancer was on March 17. Four months later on July 17, I am happy to report that my latest CT scan showed no sign of metastatic disease. That was indeed good news. Although I still have a long way to go to regain strength and stamina, I am grateful that the surgery was successful. Avoiding chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy is a huge win.
My dear reader, if you are undergoing a difficult battle in your life right now, please know of my prayers for you. It is not an easy journey at times. The pain, the fatigue, the appointments, the needle sticks, and the uncertainty of day-to-day life takes a toll. Staying strong and positive to help those around you not worry so much is also an exhausting endeavor at times. Saying “no” to requests you would have easily said yes to prior to cancer can also be a new arena for both you and the ones hearing your response. That is okay. Growing into understanding and acceptance of the new reality takes time.
The experience of suffering has convinced me of one very important aspect of the spiritual journey. The power of intercessory prayer is undeniable. It has not instantly removed my pain, cured the disease, or removed the struggles of recuperation following surgeries and treatments. However, it has provided a sense of peace that can only be found in Christ.
In 1986, the good people of Immaculate Conception Parish in Old Monroe, Missouri lifted me up in prayer. This was not a short endeavor. During my 52 days in the hospital and the months of recovery afterward, these faithful people brought my needs to the Lord. Eventually, my health was restored.
In 2001, the good people of St. Benedict Parish in Florence, Colorado lifted me up in prayer when I was diagnosed with cancer the second time.
In 2003, the good people of Ste. Genevieve Parish and Valle Catholic School prayed me through open heart surgery to repair my mitral valve. Their prayers were so powerful I went back to teaching at Valle in just 3 and a half weeks. Hearing that students were in the adoration chapel at 9:00 and 10:00 at night praying for me touched my heart profoundly.
Here we are in 2026. The good people of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish are lifting me up in prayer for both my cancer diagnosis and recurrent heart issues. While I have certainly slowed down, I am still doing my best to imitate St. Paul and run the race to the finish. It is easier on some days than others. Thus, I welcome your continued prayers.
I am grateful for each and every one of you who has crossed my path during this journey of life. The journey continues, but I could not let this 40th year of survival pass without sharing a few thoughts and reflections.
May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the communion, fellowship, and power of the Holy Spirit be with you always!
