A Miracle in the Middle of the Battle
Since my last CT scan, I’ve been pouring every ounce of myself into this fight. The doctors say my stage 4 cancer is shrinking, and I can only call that a miracle — a blessing from God giving me more time. But the truth is, even with that hope, I’m still in the thick of it. Every single day feels like a new battlefield, and I’m doing everything I can to keep moving forward.
Cancer Has Become My Full-Time Job
Most of my days are shaped by treatments, infusions, therapy sessions, pain management, medications, and speech work. In many ways, cancer care has become my new “full-time job.” The infusions, especially, demand everything I have. Whether it’s Keytruda at the hospital or high-dose Vitamin C at The Drip Bar, each one consumes hours of my day. There’s the preparation, the long stretch in the chair while the drip runs, and then the crash that follows—the nausea, the fatigue, the weight of it all pressing down. When it’s finally done, I usually need two or three hours of quiet just to recover enough to move again. My body feels like a furnace during these times, burning through every ounce of strength I’ve got. And with my weight down to only 165 pounds, I can feel just how much energy this fight demands from me every single day.
Living With Scars and Limitations
It’s been four long years of treatment, and my body carries the proof. I live with the scars of 70 radiation sessions, 20 chemotherapy infusions, and a radical neck dissection. My left side—neck, shoulder, and arm—remains scarred, weak, and painful. I cannot lift my left arm from the shoulder on my own, only at the elbow, and even the simplest movements take effort. Raising it above my shoulder is nearly impossible without help. Every day, I stretch, rotate, and fight to maintain whatever mobility I can. Twice a week, I go to physical therapy. I use the weights and machines, pushing myself, but still I can barely lift three pounds with my left arm. Progress is slow, but I refuse to quit.
Losing My Voice, Finding My Strength
My voice has been another battle. Mornings are a little better, but by noon, it starts breaking down until it’s rough and weak. That makes it tough to think about returning to work. For 41 years, I’ve had a job, most of it in information technology. But right now, the combination of my voice struggles and my physical challenges has forced me onto social security disability. My Social Security Disability doesn’t begin until a five-month waiting period. During this time, I can’t claim unemployment, but I will wait until January, so every bit of support until then makes a difference.
Finding Strength in Your Prayers and Love
I am deeply grateful to everyone who has chosen to stand by my side in this battle. Your prayers, encouragement, and donations have carried me through the hardest days and reminded me that I am not fighting alone. Because of your generosity, I’ve been able to step away from work and focus fully on healing, therapy, and recovery. That gift — your gift — has made all the difference.
This fight has tested me in ways I never imagined, but it has also revealed the incredible strength of the community. God has blessed me with more time, and I believe your love and support are part of that miracle. I believe in more healing, more hope, and more life ahead. With your continued prayers and generosity, I can keep pressing forward, one day at a time. Your support gives me strength, hope, and the chance to keep fighting for more life.
With love and gratitude,
Wayne