One year cancer free

On July 31, 2025, I had what I still hope was my final day of chemotherapy treatment.   

The month of August last year brought many follow-up tests. The most significant were CT scans (which have since shown no cancer, tumors, or significant risks/changes) and a newer technology: Signatera blood testing for circulating cancer DNA.  

Infusions of IV fluids, iron (for occasional anemia), B-12 shots, and other regimens continue with some frequency, though. With the results of both major diagnostics being negative, CT scans continue every six months, and Signatera testing continues every three months; yet time and again, now for one year, I remain cancer free.   

I have an incredible medical team. My gastroenterologist Dr. Nitin Gupta, biopsied what appeared to be a spot of little concern, during a belated, but routine (for me) annual colonoscopy. My pathology came back showing a very aggressive, high-risk, and fast-growing colon cancer, and Dr. Gupta referred me to my surgeon. In the month between that initial colonoscopy of a dot, slightly larger than half a pinky fingernail, and a follow-up ordered by my surgeon, the dot had grown several centimeters across, turned dark black and had tendrils growing up and into the walls of my colon. It looked like a very early version of the spawn in the movie Alien. 

The path ahead for me was clear, though not the one I wanted to take. A couple of weeks later, I was back at Northside Cancer Center for a long 8.5 hour nap, under the care of my incredible surgeon, Dr. Cici Zhang, waking up sans my largest organ (the colon), and 46 lymph nodes that went along to keep the large intestine company.   

I left the hospital not quite two weeks later, still learning the particulars of my new digestive process, and a bit fearful of injuring myself while dealing with the colostomy bag.  I spent the next month recuperating in the lovely and warm home of my daughter and son-in-law, along with my twin grandsons. 

Next came chemotherapy and its many severe side effects. This became the most challenging part of my cancer journey. Admittedly, I got off light with three months of infusions for three days each, every two weeks. 

I had previously witnessed the power of prayer, in healing each of my daughters and grandsons, as well as bringing relief to other family members. But until this experience, I had never really felt the power of prayer. Even now, courtesy of 25 years in local television, complete strangers will greet me at the grocery store to share that their prayer group included me each week, or offer a random hug at a restaurant—again folks I have never previously met—complimenting my recovery and good health. 

  

In early November I had my bionic colon surgically constructed, and a new exit was created from roughly 18 inches of my small intestine. The result isn’t identical to what I had before, of course, but it works pretty well, and all the plumbing is now back on the inside. 

I began morning tai chi each day, while also building back my yoga practice, and walking an average of 10 to 15 miles each week, mostly on the PATH trail. I am now in better shape than I was prior to the cancer’s arrival. In many ways, I am a different and hopefully better person. Maturity had already done some of that work, but I know that I have much more empathy and general awareness of what others might be going through. 

I woke up recently, realizing that I have officially been cancer-free for a year, and my confidence that this recovery will become permanent—and that at the five-year mark my medical team will start to use that word “cured.” 

I remain cautiously aware that with my particular cancers I have a roughly 50 percent chance of getting past that five-year mark. Yet, as my nephew remarked at my father Jerry Crane‘s recent 88th birthday celebration, stubbornness tends to run deep in the Crane family, particularly among the men. This unexpected journey has given me a strong attitude of gratitude. 

I thank God, my children, grandchildren, family and more friends than I can count for your kind words, prayers, many thoughtful gestures and gifts—and for believing in me and regularly encouraging me along the way.   

I ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.