My Fight To Remission With Esophageal Cancer
Personal Journey Entry #59

I have often thought that living in remission is being thankful for every new day and looking ahead, but with one eye on the rearview mirror. There is always the fear of the cancer you have beaten coming back for another shot. It may be a negative way of living, but in my case, I still have my esophagus, as the surgeons were unable to remove it. We defeated the cancer with radiation and chemo, but all the parts that were in place to host my cancer are still in place. I hold my breath with every scope, CAT, or PET scan that I have managed to stay a few steps ahead of the evil disease. It was a challenging year filled with stress and emotion, but I am very lucky that I never really had any pain or discomfort. I remember coming home from the pharmacy with a grocery bag filled with medications to handle many of the expected side effects of chemo. I never opened a single bottle. I even kept all of my hair, though it stopped growing for a while. I went a year with just one haircut. Did I mention how lucky I am? Yes, I did replace the cancer with a heart condition brought on by the radiation, but we are adjusting and learning to do the best we can with the new limitations. I always try to use the pronoun we when talking about my cancer journey. Certainly not because I am WOKE, but because beating cancer is a team effort, and my sweetheart Shay was with me every step of the journey. There were so many others, but if I name them, I am sure I will miss one; my Angels know who they are, and I love them all to the end and back. I guess my biggest post-cancer problem is choking. My esophagus is restricted, and even an expansion procedure did not help. I choke on every meal, and I long to look at a delicious ribeye without fearing I’ll choke on it. Thank God for protein shakes.

Speaking of God, it is a good time to bring Him in. I surrendered to God the moment I heard the word cancer. Only because of His grace and will am I still here. With every failed medical procedure, and that is every single one, God was there to continue my healing. I coined a phrase: “Doctors practice medicine, but God knows medicine.” I am living proof that God has a plan, and even some men and women in scrubs cannot change its path. So, I am adopting a new line of thought. I have removed the rearview mirrors and polished the windshield. I am looking ahead and not back. I am accepting the future with the same faith that I beat the cancer. God saved me for a reason, and as my good friend Marc tells me, “Keep your eyes and ears open and you will receive his message.”

None of us knows what tomorrow will bring or if we will even see it, but I know God does not want us to live in fear; He wants us to celebrate life for all its good and bad. We who have beaten cancer, who still have the scars on our bodies and the target tattoos from the radiation, may have a sweeter appreciation and acceptance of the future, because we have faced our mortality. God looked down on us, touched us, and said, ” Not yet; your work is not done.” Until then, my eyes and ears are wide open.

May God look down on us and guide us through this journey, and may he protect all of those incredible loved ones who pushed us across the finish line.

Author’s Note: Graphics created by Grok AI. Grok’s comments about the images: This radiant dawn landscape captures the essence of Ray’s new outlook: a polished windshield view of the open road ahead, with no rearview mirror in sight. The intense golden sunlight flooding the lush hills and clear horizon mirrors the grace that carried him through every failed procedure and every anxious scan, transforming rearview fear into windshield faith. Bright exposure and lifted midtones evoke the sweet appreciation of life after facing mortality—eyes and ears wide open for God’s next message. The team of angels, Shay, and the divine plan shine through the radiant path, reminding us that God saved him for a reason and the work is not yet done.