Jon DeisherEsophageal Cancer |  Diagnosed 2013

I was diagnosed in April 2013: esophageal adenocarcinoma, stage IIIa. I had experienced acid reflux for years. I immediately went into combined chemo and radiation therapy and then had esophagectomy in August 2013.

I knew going in that of those who are diagnosed with esophageal carcinoma, 87% die within 18 months. Austere odds, but I also know that statistics apply to whole populations, but not to any one person. 13% survive for five years or more. I’ve always been healthy, even athletic. Minimal drinker. Non-smoker. No recreational drugs. No degenerative conditions. I have strong support from my wife, children, family, and friends. Why shouldn’t I be one of the 13% who survive? I dove immediately into treatment, my wife and daughters behind me.

I have a little joke: People commonly note, "Jon! You're looking good." (As if, for some reason, I shouldn't.) My reply is: "There are three stages of life: Youth, Maturity, and 'You're looking good!'"

Since 2013, I've had two recurrences. I'm now stage IV. This is a standard scenario for esophageal cancer: it shucks and jives, moves around, now you see it/now you don’t. It’s a fascinatingly evil kind of tenant that doesn't like eviction notices. While my cancer is now somewhat "stalled" (or "behaving itself" as my oncologist puts it) a stalled cancer is not really what I'm hoping for. Immunotherapy is the best hope for a true cure for many of us with cancer.

The concept of immunotherapy is exciting because of the potential to completely change the protocols of past methodologies of "poison" (chemo), "cut" (surgery) and "burn" (radiation).  I have a dream that oncology will move out of the draconian, but necessary, options of the past into a methodology of the future.
 

There's an expression: "Hope for everything. Expect nothing." That's what I do. Life isn't always fair; we just have to make the best of what we're given.