As 2025 began, I marveled at, among other things, still being here. Due to a few of my life choices along the way, I wasn’t entirely expecting to live this long, thinking that a jealous husband or overzealous political supporter of any number of those I have opposed might take me out early. Yet, approaching the midpoint of my sixth decade, I had made my yoga practice a priority, had been eating better for several years, and in general making better/smarter life choices. With that in mind, I began to settle in for that long, slow decline away from leaving a good-looking corpse.
So, on the day after my birthday last year, on January 31, I received the surprising news of my cancer, found during my annual colonoscopy. Rarely found in the colon, fast-growing and faster spreading. As the Signet Rings Cells portion of my Stage 3b High Risk diagnosis initially offered very little good news, aggressive surgery and treatment were explained to me as perhaps my only real option for still being here this year to share good news with you.
Medical dream team
So with an incredible surgeon, Dr. Cici Zhang, and later my oncologist, Dr. Kathleen Lambert, and the incredible medical teams at Northside Hospital’s Cancer Center and the Georgia Cancer Specialists in Decatur, I dove into the ups and downs of becoming a cancer patient. The medical care I received all throughout this past year has been incredible. My doctors listened, as I at times pushed back on their counsel, and the various support physicians in radiology, anesthesia, rehab, etc, as well as the nursing staff and med-techs, in-patient and out-patient, and also the counselors and other support staff, all helped to make this journey bearable.
Read more: Bill Crane’s columns on Rough Draft.
The cancer corps
But as I have shared along the way, I also have an incredible family and support system, deemed the Crane Cancer Corps by one of my fraternity brothers, Matt Crabtree, who took the coordination and logistics lead – so I never wanted for rides, check-in calls, meal gift cards, and what I cannot quite express in words, but literally felt daily in the strength of the well-wishes and prayers being sent my way.
My firstborn daughter, Barclay and her husband, Cody Carson, took me into their home in Monroe, GA, along with my delightful grandsons, our twin Mighty Mites. I am not sure I mentioned, though, that as I left the hospital in mid-March, Barclay was moving into her 9th month of pregnancy. Newest family member and grandson, Cohen Carson, would join us all in April, one week after I moved out of the downstairs apartment where I had recovered.
The chemo journey
I cannot say that chemotherapy was a breeze, but I can again say that the nursing care and staff who administered that care did everything in their power to make me and several dozen other patients simultaneously as comfortable as possible.
Throughout this journey, I worked when I could, and returned to a near-normal world just a week or so after moving back home. A trip to the movies or grocery store would bring hugs and words of prayer from complete strangers…among the benefits of spending some time working in television is that many of these folks knew me, even if the reverse was not yet true. Prayer circles across north Georgia, and one or two in Texas and Mississippi became familiar to me. Thoughts or memories of an old and dear friend often triggered a simultaneous phone call or text appearing on my phone.
In August, as the chemo was taking its toll on some previously healthy parts of my body, and I believed that three months and six cycles had killed the cancer, we did tests to check that, and thankfully, the test data backed my gut, about my guts. The Natera blood tests, SignaTera, which will continue every three months for roughly five years, showed no circulating DNA of either type of my cancer cells in my bloodstream. No DNA means no new cells, no new cells mean no cell masses, no new cell masses mean no new tumors. I got familiar, I won’t say comfortable, with my ileostomy and stoma bag. Both are liveable, and adjustments can be made. I have several friends who I didn’t even know shared my circumstance… But I wanted a colon back.
A new colon and a fresh start
And in November, I got that, courtesy of a J-Pouch, making my semi-colon much closer to the original and now bionic, with again a few accommodations to be made, but with all the plumbing back on the inside. Still taking some precautions from that second major surgery this year, but resuming my morning Tai Chi as well as a more moderate version of my yoga practice. Walking several miles each week, an activity encouraged by all members of my medical team.
And now, roughly 11 months from my diagnosis, I remain cancer-free, my N.E.D. status most recently affirmed by two CT Scans of my upper and lower torso, showing no cell masses, new tumors, or any evidence of disease, other than some slight post-surgical swelling of lymph nodes. I now know more about the entirety of my gastrointestinal system than I ever wanted to know, and it is again, fully functional, if only a bit more frequently than most.
Another fraternity brother, Jonathan Hager, took the lead on raising funds for a gift to the American Cancer Society, in support of cancer research and support services for patients and their families. Jonathan’s employer made a generous corporate match, which will result in a nearly $12,000 donation to an ACS Relay for Life event in the spring of 2026. The ACS holds Relays for Life all across the country each year, celebrating cancer survivors, as well as remembering those who left us all too soon. My Relay team and guests will be walking in memory of Martha Banner and Barbara Cleveland, as well as in recognition of my current N.E.D. cancer survivor status. More to come on that later, but again, thanks to you, the mark we make will be larger.
Hello, 2026
So many of you helped give me this gift, and this year also gave me the time to refocus a bit on what matters most, with whatever time God decides that I have left. This cancer has a more than reasonably high rate of return. I am doing what I can to prevent that, with diet, exercise, and a positive attitude. Happiness and smiling are choices. I hope you will be seeing MORE of both of those from me in the days and years ahead. I don’t mind saying goodbye to the roller coaster that was 2025, as I am rolling into 2026, healthy, happy, and alive. Who could ask for anything more? Very thankful and incredibly blessed. Wishing you the same in the New Year ahead!