Still Here. Still a Father.

I Was Never Supposed to See This Father’s Day.

It is Father’s Day. And I am so thankful.

This time last year, I was given four months to live.

By the grace of God, a miracle, and one knowledgeable pharmacist, I am still here. I have had a year I was never supposed to have. I did not waste it.


Choosing Gratitude Over Fear.

If you read my last update, you know where things stood. My oncologist paused my Keytruda because the treatment had started inflaming my lungs, and I began a long steroid taper to calm it down.

So here is where I am now.

I am down to thirty milligrams of prednisone a day, with about two weeks left to go. I am tolerating the lower dose far better than the high one. I am staying hydrated and listening to my body. The scan comes once the steroid cycle is finished.

I will not pretend I am not nervous about it.

But I have learned something over the past year. I cannot control the scan. I cannot control tomorrow. I can only choose how I live today.

This weekend, I am choosing gratitude instead of fear.


I Could Not Change My Diagnosis. I Could Change Someone Else’s Future.

And there is a lot to be grateful for.

Most of what I tried to do this year came down to one thing.

Give back to the people who carried me through this fight.

So I wrote down the things I wish someone had told me before cancer. Ten steps. What actually helped. What did not. What I would do differently if I could go back. I put it all in one place, and I made it free, because nobody should have to learn this the hard way.

What surprised me was how many people started reaching out after hearing my story. Some had cancer. Some had lost someone they loved. Some were simply scared because cancer runs in their family and wanted to know what they could do differently.

The truth is that I cannot go back and change the choices I made before my diagnosis. I cannot undo decades of stress, processed food, poor sleep, long hours behind a desk, and all the things I simply did not know.

But I can share what I learned.

That is why I created my free guide, From Stage 4 to Still Here: 10 Cancer Prevention Steps That Could Save Your Life. It is not written by a doctor. It is written by a patient who stared at a pathology report that said Stage 4 cancer and decided he was not done fighting.

The guide covers everything from vitamin D, movement, and sleep to reducing processed foods, improving gut health, minimizing toxic exposures, and using technology to monitor your health. Most importantly, it is about taking ownership of your health before a crisis forces you to.

If even one person avoids the journey I have been on because they read those ten steps, then every difficult day of this fight will have served a greater purpose.

Before You Leave…

I wrote the guide I wish someone had given me years before my Stage 4 diagnosis. It’s completely free.


The Book I Never Wanted to Write.

I also finished my memoir, Still Here: How Faith, Food, and Family Beat Stage Four Cancer.

A Stage 4 diagnosis changes everything overnight.

I wrote down how I faced it, how I fought it, and how I kept moving forward when the odds turned against me. The fear is in there. The pressure is in there. The treatments and the decisions are in there too.

I did not leave out the hard parts.

I wrote it for the person sitting where I was sitting.

Afraid.

Confused.

Looking for a plan.

Because I remember exactly what that felt like.


A Father’s Day I Wasn’t Supposed to Have.

But this weekend my mind is on fathers.

A year ago, I honestly did not know if I would see another Father’s Day.

Cancer takes more than your health.

It steals certainty.

It steals plans.

It steals ordinary moments that suddenly become precious.

Last year I wondered if I would see another birthday.

Another Christmas morning.

Another family dinner.

Another Father’s Day.

This year I sat with my family and realized I had been given something priceless.

Time.

An extra year with my wife.

An extra year watching my sons build their own lives.

An extra year of sunsets, conversations, laughter, and ordinary days that no longer feel ordinary.

When someone tells you that you have four months to live, you stop measuring life in years.

You begin measuring it in moments.


The Lessons My Father Never Knew He Was Teaching Me.

I am thankful for my father.

He was a kind man.

He taught me to work hard.

To finish what I started.

To keep my word.

To do the right thing even when nobody was watching.

I have leaned on those lessons harder this past year than at any other time in my life.

I do not think he ever imagined those lessons would one day help his son fight Stage 4 cancer.

But they did.


What My Sons Taught Me About Never Giving Up.

I am also a father.

I have two sons.

Being a father teaches you things you cannot learn any other way.

You learn patience.

You learn not to expect perfection.

You learn to give of yourself so someone else can grow.

You learn that life was never really about you.

Raising a son with special needs has asked a great deal of me. It still does.

But it also taught me something priceless.

Keep showing up.

Even when life is hard.

Even when there is no easy answer.

Even when progress feels painfully slow.

Love keeps showing up.


Cancer Didn’t Teach Me Strength. Fatherhood Did.

Looking back now, I realize something I never expected.

Everything fatherhood taught me is exactly what this fight has required.

Patience.

Sacrifice.

Hope.

Showing up.

Giving more than you think you have left.

Refusing to quit when the results are not what you hoped for.

I did not see this cancer coming.

But without realizing it, fatherhood had been preparing me for this battle my entire life.


Today, I Choose Gratitude.

This Father’s Day…

I am still here.

Still a husband.

Still a father.

Still a son who remembers the man who raised him.

Still a man with dreams, plans, and work left to do.

I do not know what my next scan will show.

None of us are promised tomorrow.

But I have learned that gratitude and fear cannot live in the same heart for very long.

Today…

I choose gratitude.

I am grateful for my family.

I am grateful for my friends.

I am grateful for every prayer.

Every encouraging message.

Every person who has walked beside me through this journey.

Most of all…

I am grateful for one more Father’s Day.

One more chance to say thank you.

One more chance to say I love you.

One more chance to help someone else keep fighting.

And for today…

That is more than enough.


I Am Still Here.

If my story has encouraged you, I have one favor to ask.

Read the blog.

Share it with someone who needs hope.

Download my free 10 Cancer Prevention Steps guide.

If you’ve read my memoir, leaving an Amazon review helps more people discover it.

Every share.

Every review.

Every conversation.

Every life we touch.

It all moves this mission forward.

Thank you for walking this journey with me.

With faith and gratitude,

Wayne Schlicht

WaynesCancerJourney.com