About My Cancer Club

My Cancer Survivor Story And Why I Started This Community

After being diagnosed with cancer, I quickly realized that treatment plans only address part of the journey. What’s often missing is emotional support, shared experience, and a sense of community. That’s why I created My Cancer Club, so no one ever has to go through this alone.

My Cancer Survivor Story

The Beginning:

Let me start by introducing myself, my name is David H. I am withholding my last name because of so many people online are using others or creating fake cancer diagnosis or stories in hopes of financial gain. My cancer survivor story is 100% genuine and I have included pictures and diagnosis to prove it. In the event of someone stealing my photos or my story, they will have to prove it, as I certainly can. Please, if you ever see my photos or cancer survivor story on any type of fundraising platform, do not give to that person. I have never created a profile and would greatly appreciate any notification if someone has, so I can put a stop to it. Thanks in advance.

Before my cancer journey began I was a healthy happy man, led a healthy lifestyle, ate right, and went to the gym 5-6 days a week, and lived a good social and comfortable life. I owned my own service business for almost 20 years that was quite successful. Being blessed as I felt I was, I always helped friends, family members, even strangers. Help including vehicles, home remodeling, paying bills, etc. I say all this not to brag, but to show whomever may be reading this that I was doing the right things, so it doesn’t matter about your background, what you did or didn’t do, where your from, or even your age. Cancer isn’t picky, isn’t racists, doesn’t discriminate, it welcomes everyone to its nightmare.

In the beginning, before my diagnosis, I started feeling tired, not a “all of a sudden,” but more of a gradual feeling. It wasn’t overwhelming, but more of a “something isn’t right” feeling. Like most, I shrugged it off and just figured I was getting lazy so I just ignored it. Slowly it turned into losing my appetite, body aches, fever, basically all of the symptoms of having the flu. So naturally I go to the drugstore, get a bunch of flu-meds, soup, juice, everything one would need to get through a flu battle. As a couple of weeks go by, and taking every medicine the drugstore had to offer, I kept gradually getting worse. The main difference now versus having the flu in the past was now I not once had any nausea. I just felt more and more lethargic. During this time, I still worked, as I had many long term customers that counted on my business, but it was steadily taking longer to do my job. After about three weeks of feeling like garbage, I decided to go out and visit my mother, who lived out in the country, for a few days. My hope that maybe a change of scenery, and breathing in some good country air will do some good and start the recovering process. Besides, between feeling bad and working, I was neglecting some handyman work she always counted on me for. So my trip out there would be beneficial to both of us. I made it out there late in the afternoon and figured I would start doing a little work around her house the next day.

Just as I had hoped, the next morning I was feeling better, so a change in scenery and good country air seemed to be all I needed. Unfortunately it didn’t last. After about an hour of working outside, I was completely exhausted, so I sat down to take a break for about 30 minutes and couldn’t stand back up. So I sat down longer, then 30 minutes turned into an hour, then another hour, and finally, being completely out of answers, asked her to take me to the emergency room.

After going through some preliminary bloodwork, the standard EKG, blood pressure, and answering endless questions, the doctors could find nothing wrong with me. They did however notice that the bloodwork show that my potassium level was so low that it was almost non existent. So it was decided that I would stay overnight and they would give me some meds to raise my levels back up and in the meantime, they would run a few more extensive tests to find out why it was so low in the first place. One day turned out to be a few as each test was, according to them, was returning odd results.

My Diagnosis-What I Was Facing:

After a couple of days going through extensive testing that including giving so much blood that would make Dracula proud, biopsies from almost every part of my body, many which included no numbing or pre-pain reducers (if you have never had a bone marrow biopsy, trust me, you don’t want it).My cancer survivor story began with the following diagnosis:

Stage 4 Lymphoma– Actual medical term was “Diffused Large B Cell Lymphoma“
Cachexia– Also known as “Wasting Syndrome“, is having rapid weight and muscle loss
Anemia– the body doesn’t have enough healthy red blood cells to carry enough oxygen to the body’s tissues
Liver Mass-Turned out to be a Malignant Tumor
Pulmonary Edema-Condition where your lungs fill up with fluid
Severe Edema– Condition caused by to much fluid trapped in the body’s tissues, mine was mainly in my legs and feet
Pneumobilia-also known as aerobilia, refers to the presence of air within the biliary system (ie, bile ducts, gallbladder, and liver)
Chronic Pain– Self explanatory but the amount of pain was indescribable
Intractable nausea and vomiting-persistent nausea and vomiting that is difficult to control with standard treatments
Severe protein & calorie malnutrition-a serious condition resulting from inadequate intake of protein and calories
Chronic Fatigue– persistent and debilitating fatigue not relieved by rest

The main diagnosis, the Stage 4 Cancer was given to me first, from a doctor who had an incredible bedside manner. He literally walked in my hospital room, stood by the door and said “You have Stage 4 Cancer, you have less than 6 months to live” and then just walked out. With the same disposition a mechanic would have when he told you your car needed brakes. I went completely numb. A short time later a nurse came in an explain the rest in a much more caring tone. So my cancer survivor story begins.

The original hospital I went to gave the first diagnosis, although they had a cancer center, they only diagnose, not treat any type of cancer. I was in that hospital for a month waiting for a bed in a well renowned cancer hospital, but since I was almost 2 hours away, every time a room/bed came available, it would get filled before they could send an ambulance to come and get me (I was on oxygen because I couldn’t breathe, so was told because of it and other various tubes I had in me, I had to be transferred by ambulance). Meanwhile, because my cancer was so aggressive, my condition deteriorated fast. Within 30 days, I went from 6 months to 30 days to live and finally “He will be dead by next weekend”. The doctors just got to the point of keeping me heavily medicated because of all the pain and so I would die without all the agony.

In this original hospital I was in, I had seen many doctors, all with different treatment ideas, different prognosis, etc. It seemed that we couldn’t get any of them to agree on a single thing. Finally, a new doctor came in and told my brother that I couldn’t wait any longer to be taken to the hospital they were trying to get me in. He is the one who said “If you don’t get him out of here and take him to any hospital that treats cancer, he will be dead next weekend”. So we signed a AMA ( a form that states the you are leaving the hospital against medical advice), my brother rented an oxygen tank, gathered up all the records and paperwork, and took me to another hospital.

The next hospital did another round of testing, thankfully not as intense as the first, since we did bring all the diagnosing info with us, and they concluded the same info as the first. By this time, the pain from the cancer had really started to set in and even the strongest medications were barely helping. I was such a mess (see the picture) from not eating and having so much blood drawn and so much meds put in that my veins collapsed and they had to put a stint in my neck, which was all kinds of fun. I wasn’t able to start treatment right away because of my condition so I had to wait a short period while they pumped massive amounts of protein in me to stabilize me.

This photo was taken of me the day of my first chemo treatment. My Oncologist said I had less than a 5% chance of surviving this first treatment. Since I was close to death anyway, it was decided that chemo would be a shot in the dark, so what did I have to lose? This was suppose to be the last photo of me alive. I not staring off into space, but watching my brother sign a release that stated I would not live through this and that he was pretty much signing my death certificate. The picture was taken so that in the future, if he ever questioned his decision, (it was honestly both of our decision) it would remind him of the state I was in.

My Treatment

When I was told that I was going to have to go through Chemotherapy, I really wasn’t too concerned. I saw my grandmother and one of my aunts go through chemo (both we lost to cancer) and although it was clearly rough on them, they were taken for chemo anywhere from 2-4 hours and then went home. Next week was the same routine, so they always got to go home between rounds. Since I had already been in a hospital 6 weeks at this point, I figured that regardless of the chemo regimen, I would get to go home, show up for a couple of hours once a week and eventually, be done with it. Sounds a little crazy that I was happy to start chemo, truth is, I really wasn’t. I was just sick of hospitals at this point and would have let them cut off their choice of any body part to do so. I was in for quite the surprise!

I’ve always heard, and seen people go through “rounds” of chemo. That being said, I have absolutely no idea how many rounds my treatments were considered to be. My Oncologist and Hematologist agreed that it’s rare that someone would receive as much chemo as I was given. Since I was in an such of an advanced state of cancer, and particularly since my cancer was so aggressive, my doctors had to throw everything they could at it and hope for the best.

My chemo regimen consisted of two-12 hour bags of chemo a day for 5 days. This meant that I was going to receive chemo for 24 hours a day for 5 days straight. The doctor’s initial fear of me not living through the first treatment came very close to being true. A day after going through the first week of chemo, I was standing in my hospital room talking with my Oncologists while they were changing the sheets on the bed. I say standing, but it was more of leaning against a cabinet. While the doctor was talking to me, everything just went black and I passed out. I woke up, not sure how much time passed, in intensive care and remained there for two weeks. During my stay there I was in and out of consciousness, and mostly didn’t know who I was nor where I was. I just remember hearing “Stay with me” quite often.

After getting out of intensive care and going a “stabilization” process, I also had to go through a few rounds of dialysis as my kidneys were shutting down. Also, at this point, my lungs had completely filled up with fluids, so much that even the oxygen was doing very little to help me breathe. I had to have a procedure called

By now I have been in a hospital bed for over two months and couldn’t wait to just go anywhere as long as it wasn’t here. Once again, I was wrong. After the chaos from the first week of chemo, I was given the delightful news that I was going to repeat the process again. Another 24 hours a day for 5 days, lucky me! Thankfully, after enduring another week of being poisoned, (in case you didn’t know, chemo is designed to poison cancer cells, the problem is it poisons all your blood cells. The hope is that you have enough good blood cells to survive it.) I got through it without a trip to intensive care. By now, with all the chemo I had taken, the side effects really started reeking havoc on me. My hair was starting to fall out on a constant basis, but much worse, the pain started getting unbearable. Even though I had already been through alot of pain up to this point, it was nothing compared what was yet to come.

Having been through high doses of pain meds like morphine, oxycodone, and a few more that I can’t honestly remember, I was given what was considered almost lethal doses dilaudid. Even though it was between 5-10 times more powerful than what I had been taken, even that proved to be short lived relief. I was given it every 4 hours but unfortunately, it would only relieve the pain for about 30 to 45 minutes. The rest of the time between doses was utter agony. This went on not only throughout the entire chemo regime, but the months following waiting for the chemo to completely get out of my system.

Finally, after enduring the second week of relentless chemo, one of the nurses gave me the good news of they were letting me go home. By this time, being months in the hospital now, I had felt like I was at home and was now going on vacation. Even more, I thought this nightmare was finally going to be over and I could get on with my life. You guessed it, wrong again. An hour later my Oncologist comes in with the wonderful news of he was just giving me a break and that I would have to be back in a week to continue our little fun-fest. So they gave me literally a small gym bag full of pills and shots (had to take shots in my stomach several times a day) and sent me on my way. Even though it was a nice break from the hospital, the week was still living in intense pain, throwing up constantly, taking massive amounts of pills, given myself shots, so it really wasn’t much of a vacation.

Coming back from “vacation”, and after another round of testing, I was given the good news of going through the same regimen again. After yet another 5 days of hell, instead of getting a break from the hospital, I was sent to a rehabilitation center. By this time I was wheelchair bound and with so much chemo and medications, I was also developing brain fog. Although I was in rehab for a few weeks, and as much as they tried, it really didn’t help all that much except getting a new wheelchair and learning how to use it. Then back to the hospital, still more fun to be had!

As you may have guessed, I had to go through the same chemo regimen a fourth time. At this point I wasn’t praying to live, I was praying to die. I was in so much agony from the chemo that it constantly felt like I was getting hit by a bus. It wasn’t in any part of the body, but all over. All of the chemo I received thus far had made me feel subhuman, and I would had done anything to just die and end all of the suffering. Then even more good news arrived, by a new doctor, like so many cancer patients with weekend immune systems, I had developed a serious infection. My particular infection was a fungal infection known as auris. No one is sure how, but one thing that was for sure, it was going to add to all of the fun I was already having. They experimented with all kinds of meds to kill the infection, one of the med’s side effects almost gave me complete blindness. The worst part of this little battle is not only another full month in the hospital without a little break, but in that time I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything. ANYTHING!! Imagine going a month without even a sip of water, talk about a dry as dessert-mouth. I even went through multiple tubes of lip balm because my lips were so chapped. The infectious disease doctor said that this was the only way to kill the disease, by meds, and not by not feeding it. What a lovely time.

So once I got through that little battle, it was back to the war with cancer. By this time I had been in and out (mostly in) for the better part of 8 months. Looking at me you would have thought I was a holocaust survivor. I had completely lost the will to live, I was emotionally dead, and literally just a carcass laying on a bed that should have been in a coffin. Still, my Oncologist has the nerve to tell me I have to do another continuous 5 day regimen. At this point, I didn’t care what they did. I had come to the realization, that even if I made it through one more regimen, I was either going to die by this round or eventually an overdose as I was so tired of being in agony. I just wanted one day that I didn’t hurt, one day that I could have rest and peace, that even if I had to take more than prescribed, I was going to take however many pain meds it took to actually be out of pain. I think my doctors knew it too, as they didn’t let me go home right away.

Finally, after what came out be 600 hours of chemo. I was given the news of my cancer going into remission. Unlike you see on TV, there was no ringing of a bell, no joyous celebration, nothing. Just as I received the news of having cancer, I was quiet and numb. All I could do was say a silent prayer thanking God for walking with me through all of this.

This photo was taken the day I was given the news of my cancer being in remission. A body devasted by 600 hours of chemotherapy. You can still clearly see my chemo-port. The crazy thing is, if you look closely, my chemo port with my incision scar looks like a face in despair. Throughout the entire ordeal of my battle with cancer I lost 130 pounds. I went from a complete picture of health before it all started, to a complete picture of ruin after it all ended.

My Side Effects:

With all the chemotherapy I had endured, like many cancer patients I now have to live with permanent side effects which affect my life and livelihood greatly

Neuropathy- I have permanent nerve damage in both of my legs and feet. Both have a 50% numbness all of the time. I cannot walk or stand for any long lengths of time without them going completely numb.
Memory loss- I have permanent memory loss both short and long term, it comes and goes. Sometimes it’s simple things like remembering someone’s birthday. Other times it’s remembering what I did yesterday or common words used to describe things.
Severe bed sores- this is pretty much a guarantee when you have laid in a bed for months, mine was so bad I developed horrible scar on my tailbone, I’ll spare you the pictures.
Calcium deficiency- suffered with alot of broken teeth and brittle bones.
Degenerative disk disease- disk in my spine are deteriorating.

My worst side effect- Pyloric stenosis. This occurs when the opening between the stomach and intestines closes. My problem started halfway through the chemotherapy but doctors kept saying it would get better. Unfortunately, it only got worse, to the point that food no loner got through and crystallized in my stomach like a brick. I had to endure a 5 hour surgery that took out half of my stomach, and 10 inches of intestines. They also discovered my gall bladder had been destroyed by chemo and removed it as well. I had to eat through a feeding tube in my stomach for 3 months during recovery.

My Loss-What Cancer Took From Me:

During the entire cancer ordeal, from beginning to end, I have suffered losses both small and great. Loss of my home, my vehicle, life savings, and my business certainly hurt and have affected my life greatly. Those things fall way short compared to the relationships I’ve lost. I have had family members completely turn on me when they heard I was given a death sentence, and gave power of attorney to my brother because they thought that they wouldn’t get anything when I died. Other family members and close friends whom I have helped and been there for more times than I can count, never visited, never even called. Without question, I walked through complete hell with cancer and faced agony that I can’t even begin to describe, but nothing hurts worse than the people you love, and the ones that you thought loved you, in your darkest hour, act as though you never existed.

So that's my cancer survivor story. It is not now, nor will ever be, my goal to seek sympathy, attention, or fortune. These pictures, I have shown no one. For the most part, I don't talk about my cancer ordeal unless it is with another cancer patient. My goal with this page and sharing my story is two part:

With the exception of my brother and his wife, for the most part I walked through this battle alone. I also saw and visited with other cancer patients in the cancer ward with me. I have seen people fight for their lives, I have seen people lose their lives fighting this disease. Sadly, I have seen people completely give up, check out of the hospital, and go home to die because they felt they couldn’t go on. Through all of this, both enduring and witnessing first hand, I have developed a deep empathy for all those battling cancer, no matter in what form. I have seen people from all walks of life during my time in the hospital. Everyone will have a different cancer survivor story, it doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from, we are all family. I started this club for you, for us!

My hope is also to support the supporters. The fact that you are there supporting a loved one, a friend, a stranger, whomever, you support means the world to those fighting cancer. Without you and your support, their battle would be far worse than it is. Even though you may feel overwhelmed at times and certainly that your in a thankless position. You’re not! That person your helping is going through alot and sometimes forgets what your going through. It doesn’t mean they don’t appreciate it. So from the bottom of my heart and with total love I say THANK YOU!! I started My Cancer Club for you too! I hope that here you too can find any and all help you need. I also plead with you to share any tips or valuable resources that you may have. Cancer, for now, isn’t going away. Let’s all fight this together, we have all done enough fighting alone. I started this club for you too!

Disclaimer:

Everything you have read here is based on my own cancer survivor story. It is 100% accurate and based on what I experienced from the beginning through the present time. I’ve chosen not to name any specific hospitals or doctors because quite frankly, not all my experiences were good with either one and it’s not my intention to bad mouth anyone. Everyone’s path is going to be different and this isn’t about promoting or calling out anyone.

Some parts of my care were great, others were very difficult, but that’s just my story. What may or may not work for one person might be totally different for someone else.

My goal with My Cancer Club is to share honest stories, support, and helpful resources amongst a community built to help each other, not to give medical advice or tell anyone how or where they should get treatment. Always lean on your own medical team for guidance that’s right for you.