This Sunday, I’m flying to Tennessee to help my mother-in-law. She’s been in terrible pain from her hip and lives in a small town where getting to specialists isn’t easy. Sarah and I have been married 25 years, and her mom needs us right now. I’m going to drive her to see a specialist, help come up with a plan, and take care of her cats if she ends up needing surgery, whether that happens this trip or down the road.
It’s what family does.
I just finished a high-dose vitamin C infusion this week, and my next full treatment isn’t for another week and a half. So the timing works. But I’m not just going to help family. I’m going on a mission.
My goal for this trip: Meet at least 10 people who have cancer or have a loved one battling cancer.
I want to sit across from them, look them in the eye, and tell them what I wish someone had told me when I was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer:
There’s more you can do.
I was given four months to live. Four months. And here I am, still standing, still fighting, still sharing. God gave me a miracle, and I don’t believe miracles are meant to be kept to yourself.
Radiation, chemotherapy, surgery, and immunotherapy. These are powerful tools. But they’re only half the battle. The other half? Most oncologists never talk about it. Nutrition. Vitamins. Supplements. Repurposed medications. Starving cancer instead of feeding it.
Most oncologists receive less than 20 hours of nutrition training in their entire medical education. Meanwhile, hospital cafeterias serve cancer patients pudding cups and Jell-O filled with sugar and dyes. I watched people walk out of chemo chairs into waiting rooms stocked with cookies.
Nobody told me that cancer cells consume glucose at 10-50 times the rate of normal cells. Nobody told me about vitamin D optimization, high-dose IV vitamin C, or the role of chronic inflammation. I had to learn it myself, and it changed everything.
I’ve documented my full integrative treatment plan, both standard care and alternative therapies, on my website. If you want to see everything I’ve used in this fight, visit: waynescancerjourney.com/what-are-cancer-treatment-options/
December 2, 2025: Two lung tumors, undetectable.
I went from 255 pounds to 155. From stage 4 to stable. From hopeless to standing here, planning a trip to help my mother-in-law and share hope with strangers.
That’s the miracle. And I want to pass it on.
If you know someone in Tennessee (or anywhere along the way) who’s fighting cancer or supporting someone who is, send them my way. I’d love to buy them a cup of coffee and share what I’ve learned.
Thank you for your continued support. Every donation helps me keep fighting and keep sharing this message with others who need to hear it.
Still here,
Wayne