Surviving Terminal Cancer to Help Others

It’s been 11 years since my world fell apart.

I was 46, still had three of my five children living at home, and found a little lump on the back of my neck. It was one of those things I didn’t worry about too much — it was small. But after three months, it had grown from the size of a pea to a quarter. It didn’t hurt, but I went to the doctor to have it checked out anyways.

As soon as the doctor looked at it, I could tell he didn’t like what he was seeing. He sent me to a specialist who took a biopsy and told me I’d have results in one week. The next day, he called and asked my wife and I to come back in. That’s the point where your stomach drops and your heart leaps into your throat. When we got there, the doctor told me I had stage four melanoma and I should get my affairs in order.

That’s when everything came crashing down around me.

I’d been married 26 years, had five children, a good job, and a nice house in Syracuse, Utah. After being diagnosed with terminal cancer, I had to give up my job — 70 percent of our income. We lost our house. We lost our car. My wife and I eventually divorced. Albeit, I was still alive and that was the battle I wanted to fight.

About 30 days after my diagnosis, I went in for surgery to remove the lump. One month after that, I had 32 lymph nodes removed, since that’s where the melanoma originated. After the second procedure, I was too afraid to look in the mirror. I had staples all over my face and head. My older daughter made me laugh a little when said I looked like Frankenstein’s brother, but when I finally worked up the courage to look in the mirror, I just sobbed. The doctor said I wouldn’t be disfigured, but I never thought I would look normal again or be able to function regularly in society.

I had made it through two procedures and an insane amount of emotional turmoil, but my fight was just beginning. For the next month, I went in five days a week to receive the maximum dose of chemo. People say that if the chemo doesn’t kill you, it’ll kill the cancer, and that’s absolutely true. My liver failed a couple of times. Chemo destroyed my entire immune system. I felt like I had the worst flu of my life. For 48 weeks after that, I went in three times a week to receive half of the max dose — a little less poison a day.

After a year, the doctor told me I might actually survive. At the time, I didn’t want to know what my odds were, but I triumphed over a 93 percent mortality rate. It took another year to build my immune system back up, but once I did it, I was ready to resume my life.

When I was terminally ill, social security approved my disability application. Once it was clear I was going to survive, a social security employee asked if they could help me with any training to get back on my feet. I wanted to go back to college to finish my degree, so they paid me while I got my credits. In 2001, I graduated from Weber State with a creative writing degree.

After graduating, I bounced around to different jobs until I discovered Clearlink was hiring for its Medicare sales team. I had prior experience selling Medicare (and being a recipient) and knew I wanted to do something that would help people. The main reason I enjoy being at Clearlink and selling Medicare is because of my personal connection to it and the fact that it’s a product that truly makes a difference in people’s lives. It’s not like selling a car. Medicare helps people for the better.

The whole experience of staring death in the face and living to talk about it changes you.

I survived.

It’s been 11 years since my remission began and I’m happy with where I am in my life. I love what I do. I love the people I talk to on the phone. Clearlink’s a great place to work and I’ve been part of tremendous growth — we’re planning on expanding our team from eight to 30 by the fall.

What cancer — and my time at Clearlink — has taught me is that at the end of the day, life goes on and you can be happy regardless of what happens to you. That’s why I choose to focus on the positive and fill my life with the things and people that make me happy.

Ultimately, good can be found in most everything, even in the darkest times.

Full disclosure: This article was written with direct contributions from a professional writer.