October 20th
I have some unfortunate news to share. On Tuesday, October 20th, I was diagnosed with colorectal cancer after my first routine colonoscopy. I woke up to my doctor telling me they'd found a 3-centimeter tumor in my rectum (butt jokes may now commence), and that it was likely stage one or two. After CT scans and an MRI that Wednesday and a PET scan the following week, it looks like a small lymph node right behind the tumor is also enlarged and cancerous. Fortunately, there's no further spread to other lymph nodes, and my liver and lungs look clean. Because of that one lymph node, though, this is classified as stage 3B colorectal cancer (adenocarcinoma).
This has obviously been a shock to me and my family. I'm in the best shape of my life since my college football days, my diet has been pretty healthy for years, and I've had zero symptoms. I only got the colonoscopy because my wife was aggressively and wisely pushing me to. My one regret is that I didn't schedule it for my 45th birthday, the first day my insurance would have covered it. Instead, I dragged my feet for a year and a half, and here we are. If you're 45 or older, or have ever had blood in your poop (regardless of your age), PLEASE go schedule your colonoscopy. It's really not a big deal. The prep is the worst part, and even that is mostly just a long evening getting very well acquainted with your bathroom. Most likely they'll find nothing of concern. But if you're in the unlikely position of having a tumor, time is of the essence.
I'll be taking a temporary leave of absence from touring with my brothers in The Band of Heathens. If there's a show here or there where I feel up to dropping in to jam, I will! Otherwise, I'll be close to home trying to beat this thing. The good news is that the doctors told me to stay active, keep working out, and keep working in the studio as much as I feel up to. So if you've been thinking about calling me for a studio project, or about booking time at The Finishing School, now's a great time. My calendar just opened right up.
While my odds look good, coming face to face with my own mortality has brought a renewed sense of beauty to every moment, and a fresh urgency to make the most of the time we have. I've had the kind of perspective shift that's apparently common with a cancer diagnosis, and I'm cherishing every moment with my family, my friends, and in the studio. Frankly, I'm just slowing down and looking around at the beauty that surrounds all of us every day. It's a beautiful world, even in the midst of tragedy and darkness.
All that said, I feel strong, healthy, loved, and supported, and honestly, I don't know if it's possible to be better prepared for this. Sure, I wish I'd gotten that colonoscopy a year and a half earlier, but what's done is done, and I'm ready for the next chapter. So far, my life's chapters have been filled with rich adventure, deep friendships, and enough beautiful memories to fill many lifetimes. But every good story needs some dark and challenging chapters, and this is where we are now. I don't know where it will go, but I know it will be part of a great story, and I know I'm not going through it alone.
Thanks for reading this far, and for being part of my community. I'll surely be leaning on you for moral support and strength. Your prayers, support, and encouragement are already more than enough, but some have asked how else they can help us meet the added costs of treatment and time away from touring; we’ll share more as we get a clearer picture of what lies ahead and figure out what kind of mountain we’re climbing.
With love and gratitude,
Gordy