Dan's Journey to Recovery from Cancer (2026)

10/10/2023

It's still hard to wrap my head around what happened on this day 4 years ago. The path to recovery has been an incredible journey. Sometimes very frustrating and often testing my patience. I am forever grateful for the amazing medical care I received, and the incredible support from my friends and family.

Colorectal cancer (CRC) is the second most common cause of cancer death in the United States. In 2023, approximately 153,020 individuals will be diagnosed with CRC and 52,550 will die from the disease, including 19,550 cases and 3750 deaths in individuals younger than 50 years.

It doesn't have to be this way, as treating this disease has a nearly 100% success when caught early. I'm living proof.

If you are getting close to 50, please go get a colonoscopy. And go earlier if you are in a high risk group or have any gastrointestinal issues. It's a simple, painless procedure and might just save your life. I'd be happy to give you pointers on how best to prepare, and can also provide references.

B&W photos by Michael Kushner Photography

12/12/2022

The other day I received a memory from a Facebook story 3 years ago, reminding me of the day I had an xray of my surgically reconstructed intestines confirming that I could proceed with my next surgery for the treatment of my colorectal cancer diagnosis in 2019. On this day exactly three years ago I was on the operating table for the final surgery. It's still a bit mind-blowing as to this journey, but also an opportunity for self reflection and recognition of the challenges that we all confront.

Fast forward to today, and I have completed my 3rd round of annual tests. All of my surveillance tests (CT scans, scopes, blood work) continue to show no evidence of disease and a healthy intestinal tract. I have one more follow-up scan at the end of this month because inevitably, whenever they do a scan, they see something that they want to take a closer look at. But I'm not too concerned.

According to the National Cancer Institute I've reached a marker where the risk of recurrence is now significantly reduced statistically. I will continue to be closely monitored, tested and inspected for another two years, at which point according to the NCI I can be declared "clear". After that we will continue to monitor, but at a pace less intense compared to the current schedule.

It's fascinating to reflect on how my recovery has shifted from a daily, then weekly, then monthly, and now a yearly view. It's remarkable to look back and see how my body and mind continue to adjust to my new anatomy. A big piece of the process is my own confidence and trust in my body. While the surgeries left my outside appearance mostly unscathed, life without a colon presents some unique challenges. While I continue to rebuild the neural pathways between my brain and my guts, my comfort in my body continues to improve. Changes at the beginning were easy to recognize and measure. It's a bit more subtle now. It's hard to describe but I'll share one example of how I see my progress year over year.

One of the great pleasures in the last 10 years or so of my life is spending time at the beach. Oddly, I'm not much of a swimmer, but I enjoy being near water. And while hanging out at the beach on a busy weekend afternoon with throngs of other beach goers can be fun in its own way, I much prefer the beach locations that are isolated and off the beaten path. For me, it keeps me calm and grounded and provides a setting to disconnect and clear my mind.

In 2017 I discovered the magic of Provincetown MA. Among the many appealing aspects of this delightful gay community is the incredible beaches. Particularly the isolated beaches of its national park seashore, some which require a bit of a hike through the dunes to reach and offer no facilities (restrooms). I will never forget my last day at this beach in the summer of 2019, a month before my first surgery, gazing at the horizon past the water one last time before turning towards the dunes, wondering if I would ever make it back. I truly did not know what my future would be like.

In the summer of 2020, less than a year after my final surgery, I was back in ptown for 2 weeks. I set a goal to spend a day hiking through the dunes to return to this treasured spot. I rented a condo in a neighborhood very close to the beach to minimize travel time. It was a 5 minute bike ride away. But I never made it there. My body and mind were simply not ready.

In 2021 I returned again, this time for 5 weeks. I stayed a bit further from the beach this time. And on one beautiful afternoon I made the trek through the dunes and found myself back in this magical spot. I had a moment to myself where I struggled to stay composed. I hung in there for the day. It became a bit uncomfortable towards the end of the day. That was the only day I made it there that summer. But I proved to myself that I could return again.

Now that brings me to this past summer, where I spent 4 weeks in ptown. I lost track of the number of times I visited the remote beaches, going multiple times in the same week.

My recovery has been at the forefront of every aspect of my life for the past 3 years. For the first few years every decision, every conversation, every interaction seemed to require the disclosure of my disability. And while I give myself credit for my perseverance, it's been a lot. I had no choice though, as it is part of my life experience and part of my healing process. But as time passes, it is getting easier to forget. It's becoming the back story.

My mantra from the very beginning was "I'm going to be OK", but I didn't really know what the definition of "OK" was. And 3 years later I still don't really know what to expect. But as the saying goes, it gets better.

I'm looking forward to see what year 4 brings.

And I'm going to be OK.

Peace

27/03/2022

Now that I got your attention.... It's the last weekend in March, so it's still not too late to remind everyone that March is colorectal cancer (CRC) awareness month.

CRC is the 2nd leading cancer killer, but it doesn't have to be. It is one of the few cancers that can be prevented through screening. All adults—starting at age 45 or before—should talk to their doctor about screening for polyps and cancer.

I was getting screened frequently due to my own health history, as well as my family history and risk factors. And I stand before you and am able to write this as living proof that screenings can save your life.

I happen to be an expert with colonoscopies. I've lost count, but I think I'd say I've done at least 12 in my lifetime. That count will remain fixed for me now, since I am unable to get a colonoscopy anymore since, well, since I no longer have a colon. But if you need any tips or tricks about how to get through the prep and procedure, let me know as I'd be happy to chat with you. It's not as bad as many make it out to be.

60% of CRC deaths could be prevented with screenings.
1 in 5 CRC patients are 20-54 years old.
The symptoms of CRC can be no symptoms at all.
60% of CRC deaths could be prevented with screenings.
Ashkenazi Jews have one of the highest CRC risks of any ethnic group in the world.
Black Americans are about 20% more likely to get CRC and about 40% more likely to die from it than most other groups.

Check out https://fightcolorectalcancer.org/ for more information.

Photo by Michael Kushner Photography in celebration of my 2 year anniversary of my final CRC surgery.

Daniel J. Weiss

10/12/2021

Today is the 2 year anniversary of my final cancer surgery. It occurred roughly 9 weeks after my first surgery and marks the beginning of my final recovery. This past October, to mark the 2 year anniversary of the first surgery, I spent an afternoon in NYC and had the privilege to continue my journey with the artistry of Michael Kushner. While I'm rarely at a loss of words, all I'll say here is that I'm forever grateful for his friendship, love, and support.

Also in October, my prostate biopsies all came back without issue, and barring any other significant changes in future lab work, I'll never have to do that again. Whew. The recovery for that procedure was very unpleasant.

My CEA labs (cancer) screenings continue to be negative, and now I've graduated from a 3 month schedule to a 6 month schedule. There's also no need to continue regular follow up consultations with my surgical team, instead switching to an as-needed model.

So all things considered, my physical recovery has been for all practical purposes the best possible outcome. I'm still working on my mental health recovery, but making good progress.

Happy holidays and much love to all.
Photo by Michael Kushner

10/10/2021

This orchid had not flowered in years until this summer. Despite the dreary day, it's putting on a good show. That's one cool thing about orchids, they always put on a beautiful presentation despite all the chaos around them.

I try very hard to look on the bright side of life. I'm more of a "glass half full" kind of guy, as opposed to half empty. Perhaps that's just my way of keeping my head above water.

Today marks exactly 2 years to the day of my first surgery. I spent 8 hours on the OR table that day, after 10+ months of consults and scans and biopsies. It's been a long trek. So maybe that day could be considered the first day of my recovery. Or the first day of the rest of my life. Or the last day of my previous life.

There is a lot to celebrate, but as I look back there's a lot to mourn too. The gray overcast rainy day here is making me feel very melancholy. I'm very grateful for everything and everyone who has helped me or touched me in my journey. Amongst many things to be grateful for, I've made some new amazing friends who I may have not otherwise ever met.

But I'm also very sorrowful, and a little bit angry, at what was taken away. I am not the same person. I suppose anyone can say that they've changed over the course of a few years. But I am physically different. Mentally different. Emotionally different. I do mourn what was taken away, physically, and how that loss is always present as it demands that I live differently. I sleep differently, I eat differently, I digest differently, I most definitely s**t differently. And timed with the pandemic, my body has become very comfortable, if not a little bit reliant, on very consistent routines. And every time I change routines, I need at least a few days to get back to my equilibrium. It's exhausting sometimes.

My mantra for a year was "I'm going to be OK". And as it turns out, I am OK. But it's also OK to be sad, and it's OK to be angry.
It's OK to feel a lot of ways. Otherwise life would be boring.

And it's OK to feel joyousness, which in the grand scheme of things is what makes it so easy to cast all of those other feelings aside.

08/10/2021

It's the first week of October and I just finished mowing the lawn. Summer is over here in New Jersey, but I suspect that I will need to mow the lawn at least one more time as it's been quite warm this fall.

Last year at this time I was in the hospital after my gallbladder decided to go on strike. This year I'm glad to report that I'm not in the hospital. I did need to visit the surgical center this past Monday to have a prostate biopsy. After several years in a row of having countless procedures that required sedation, I was really hoping to get through an entire year without needing anesthesia. I made it 10 months, not so bad. Perhaps 2022 will be sedation free.

Asides from the prostate issue (more on that later), I had a fantastic summer and my recovery continues without any complications. I spent 5 weeks during the summer living in Provincetown, Cape Cod, MA and was able to enjoy all that ptown has to offer. My gut was a bit wonky at first, having to adjust to a richer diet - so much delicious seafood, and more occasions to have a glass of wine or a cocktail than my typical routine. But it was all worth it. I absolutely love it there and am thinking about the possibility of investing in property on the Cape.

I'm just about recovered from my post ptown/post vacation/return to work depression. And now back to reality. I had a sigmoidoscopy in September that showed healthy mucosal tissue in my surgically constructed intestines. A few tiny ulcerations were biopsied and the results were nothing to be concerned about. All good news.

And just completed all the lab work for my annual physical - with every test in the "green" zone except for my PSA, which was expected.

Regarding my prostate, for those of you who have been following along and have a good memory, I had a prostate biopsy in August 2019, about a month before my scheduled cancer surgery. We were checking a mildly suspicious area as revealed by a MRI. As a result of that procedure, I landed in the hospital for 5 days with a massive prostate infection, which resulted in having to reschedule my cancer surgery. But the good news was that the pathology showed no cell mutation of concern.

I had another MRI this summer which showed the same suspicious area, but this time it was larger. So the recommendation was to do another biopsy. Since my anatomy is quite different now, they had to use a different and newer procedure. The good news is that the risk of infection is much lower, and I made it through unscathed, although I'm still a little sore. I expect to get the pathology results next week.

This weekend will be the 2 year anniversary of my first cancer surgery. To celebrate, I'm heading into the city and over to Michael Kushner's studio for a photo shoot. The pictures posted here are from my last photo shoot with Michael Kushner Photography on March 9, 2020.

Daniel J. Weiss

04/06/2021

Two Years
Daniel J. Weiss

It was right around this time exactly two years ago that I got the call. Biopsy results. The call that no one ever wants to get. That moment when your physician says "it's cancer". That moment when you don't feel anything, and then feel everything. There's the practical path of what needs to be done next, and the mental path of how to even process this information. I'll never forget the feeling of that moment, and hopefully I will never get another call like that one. But if I do, I'm pretty sure I will be better prepared.

My recent CT scans all looked great. My surgeon's team wants me to review the results with my GI so that he can make a determination as to when I should be scoped again.

My quarterly blood lab results also were all green. Including my CEA (Cancer Screen). One more quarterly visit and then I graduate to testing every 6 months for 3 more years.

And I've gained back all the weight that I lost going back to pre-surgery. Actually, since my surgery removed about 8 lbs of intestines, I've gained all that plus a little more, thank you covid. 😡

These pictures were taken on March 9, 2020 by Michael Kushner Photography at his studio in New York City. That was the last time that I've been in the city. 4 days later Broadway and all theaters and performing arts were shut down. It won't be for another 3 months before Broadway is back. And it's taken me this long to revisit the photos from that day and decide which ones to post.

For context, these pictures were taken 3 months after my ileostomy reversal surgery, and 5 months after my first surgery. I had a narrative in mind at the time, but the world decided to shake things up a bit. So here we are.

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧🏳️‍🌈 Happy Pride!!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧🏳️‍🌈

03/05/2021

I get to drink one of these tonight, and one more tomorrow. It's my first complete CT scan (abdomen and chest) since my surgeries. I say "complete" because when I was in the hospital last fall due to my gallbladder infection, they did a CT scan to rule out a small bowel obstruction, but there was no time for the full prep. This time I get to light up my insides with this delicious drink. 😬

It's 18 months since my last surgery (not including the gallbladder thing), and my recovery continues to progress. I'll also be getting my quarterly lab work done this week, which includes a cancer screen, which has been negative every time so far. I'll continue with quarterly tests this year, and then graduate to twice a year tests for another 3 years.

Last month I had a lovely vacation in Chicago and Palm Springs. It was delightful to be reunited with my dear friend, and spend time with some new friends as well. I was a little anxious about traveling dealing with covid and my sometimes demanding intestines, but the trip was easy and manageable.

During the first year post cancer surgeries everything I did I viewed through the lens of "my first time post surgery". But as my cancer experience slowly moves further into the past, it is becoming easier and easier to view my life and day to day living without that filter. It used to be common that I would have these "moments" - where I would become overwhelmed with emotion - amplified by the contrast of the joys of life with the knowledge of just how precious and fragile it can be. Those moments are much less frequent now. I only had one brief twinkling of those feelings while walking though the magnificent Joshua Tree National Park. Even in the middle of a desert, there is so much life and so much to be grateful for.

03/01/2021

2020 will be a year that will always be remembered. Not necessarily for the right reasons, but here I am, still pushing forward.

It's been a month since my gallbladder and hernia surgery and I've completely recovered. It was easy peasy compared to my surgeries last year, the previous one also being in December. I've added a few more tiny scars to my collection. Hopefully this will not be a pattern going forward!

The surgery was successful and I came home the same day. I was a bit sore for several days, but able to slowly move around, and returned to my work schedule the following week. I had the luxury of having my dear friend Tharius stay with me for a couple of weeks, keeping a watchful eye over me while I recovered, as well as having his companionship during a time when I most needed it. The biggest issue was getting my intestinal system back on track. Not eating for almost a day, and the effects of the anesthesia and then pain killers all had an impact on my gut. Not to mention the soreness in my core as a result of the hernia repair, which impacted my muscle movements for numerous important functions.

And now here I find myself, one year since my life saving/changing surgeries, reflecting on the year, and thinking about the future.

At the risk of stating the obvious, no one in their right mind could have predicted our collective experiences this year. The challenges and stress that we faced were in uncharted territories and off the scale.

For me, 2020 was supposed to be a grand celebration of my recovery. And while not exactly what I had in mind, I did get to celebrate the beginning of a new set of chapters in this crazy book called life. For better or worse, I will always view the previous chapters as BC - before cancer. While it doesn't define me, it certainly has left a mark on my attitude and consciousness.

It would be easy to list out all the disappointments of 2020. We all know them too well. No point to go down that path. Let's take the opposite path, and think about all the things that we are grateful about.

2020 was the year of my recovery. Asides from a few missing parts, and some continuing adjustments to my internal rhythms, I am beyond grateful for my health. And in an unexpected fashion, my immune system has never been stronger. When my colon was removed, so was my chronic illness of ulcerative colitis, and so ended my regular intake of medications, all of which had immunosuppressant characteristics. I used to get sick frequently; head colds, sore throats, especially in the winter. Since my surgeries over a year ago, I've not been sick at all and not needed an antibiotic all year (notwithstanding the gallbladder thing).

I am grateful for the friendships that I have. 2020 was a year where, despite the odds, deeper bonds were built, and new lasting friendships were started. While I lived alone and spent a lot of time alone, I knew that I was never alone.

I am grateful for my children's health and the healthcare available to them. Not everyone is so lucky. It's amazing (and stunning) to see them grow up and become so independent. And with independence also comes separation, but before i wallow in that loss, I remember what I was like at their age and what an exciting time of life that is for them.

I am grateful to be employed by an employer who values my work and contributions to the success of the company, and who treats their employees with respect, dignity, and care.

I am grateful for all the people who fight for the benefit of our humanity and for our planet. We all, including myself, need to do more to make our world a kinder, humane, sustainable, peaceful place to live. Diversity makes us stronger. Empathy connects us. And the joys of living fuels us.

23/11/2020

So this past week continued my streak of good news regarding my recovery journey. First the easy stuff - all my quarterly lab tests came back fine, and the most important one, the cancer screen, was negative. That's one year done of quarterly tests, one more year to go. The other good news is that my CT scan from last month, while identifying my gallbladder issue, also showed that my intestinal track looked exactly as expected.

And finally, my GI physician had an inside look at my surgically reconstructed intestines (i.e., my "j-pouch"), and it looked fantastic. The procedure was done via a sigmoidoscopy. Sort of like a colonoscopy, but since I don't have a colon, there's really not very far they can go. The procedure took about 15 minutes and was done without anesthesia. An anesthesiologist was there on standby in case I became uncomfortable, but it was completely unnecessary. So the cool thing was that I got to watch along in real time and ask questions about what we were seeing on the HD screen displaying the insides of my intestines! I came home with a report including 17 pictures.

The only freaky thing was seeing the surgical staples still inside me. This is expected. Sometimes the camera angle and perspective made the staples look more ominous than they actually are, but one in particular looks like I have a fence barb guarding my rear entrance. The pictures that show both the dead end of the top of my j-pouch alongside the end that goes into the remaining of my small intestine are stunning.

If you're not into medical pictures, you probably shouldn't look at these :)

Next up is my surgery in 9 days to remove my gallbladder, as well as repair a small hernia that I have as a result of the first surgery. Also done laparoscopically, this will be a piece of cake compared to everything else I've been through. I'll be released the same day, assuming all goes well, after 6 hours of post operative observation in the recovery room.

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate. Stay safe, avoid travel if you can, and wear a mask!

11/10/2020

Today marks the one year anniversary of my first surgery as a result of colorectal cancer. What a year! I had some grand plans to celebrate. I was planning to publish a series of photos taken throughout my journey. I was planning a photo shoot to mark the occasion. I was planning on writing about my return to Provincetown, MA, my first vacation post-surgery, which also happened to be my last vacation spot prior to my surgery.

But to quote Robert Burns, the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. My body had different plans.

My recovery has been nothing short of remarkable. Not that it has been without challenges, or easy, but I am in great spirits, in excellent health, and enjoying life as best as possible during these otherwise difficult times. And I do plan to reflect and write about the last year.

But I had a little bump in the road this week.

I drove myself to the ER at 2am early Tuesday morning, in severe pain and abdominal distress. My intestines seemed to have stopped moving things along. The hypothesis was that I had a small bowel obstruction. This sometimes happens to folks who have had the kind of surgeries that I've had. This results in an ileus - a condition where the intestines stop functioning, which is extremely painful. A dose of morphine at the ER took the edge off. Then I drank a large glass of contrast, & off to a CT scan. A bit later I had an ultrasound of my liver and gallbladder, at which point they confirmed that I had a severely inflamed gallbladder and gallstones.

Consulting with my surgical team, we decided to try to avoid emergency surgery, and treat it with antibiotics, and a drainage tube if needed. And then schedule the surgery to remove the gallbladder in a more planful fashion. It's a lot less risky to take out when it's not so inflamed.

Meanwhile, the CT contrast solution jump started my intestines. That stuff was essentially like liquid Drano for me. And then I started what was to be 4 straight days of around the clock IV antibiotics. And it worked. No drainage tube needed.

I came home on Friday afternoon. And will be following up with my surgeon to schedule the removal of my gallbladder in about 6 weeks.

Happy anniversary to me!
Daniel Weiss

15/08/2020

It's been quite some time since I posted here. I've deliberately left space for the plethora of voices about the critical issues that are facing this country. Watching the USA's quick descent into chaos and the failure of justice, orchestrated by criminals who have been elected to government leadership roles, and whose blatant corruption is left unchecked, is devastating and difficult to witness.

After returning to work in February after being out on a medical leave for 5 months, I was quickly assimilated back into the working world. The first month was tough, as I had to travel 3 weeks in a row. I got through it, but was happy that my calendar in March had no travel plans. Little did I know that not only would I not be traveling for the foreseeable future, but I would be spending the next 6 months (and counting) exclusively working from home.

On a positive note, my recovery continues to progress very well. I feel strong. I've gained back most of the weight that I lost after the first surgery. For the most part, I'm sleeping well. Still room for improvement, but on average I wake up once in the middle of the night. Getting a good night's sleep makes such a huge difference to my overall energy and happiness.

My diet continues to expand as I experiment with adding new foods. For the most part, I haven't had any significant issues with food. I'm very aware now of what I put in my body though, and trying my best to avoid processed foods, and food with sugar added, or artificial sweeteners. Not as easy as you might imagine, as so much food is loaded with sugar, purely as a profit mechanism to the sugar industry, and with many negative impacts to our collective health.

I'm now on a quarterly schedule to have my blood tested for carcinoembryonic antigen (CEA), as well as comprehensive metabolic panels. The CEA test is used specifically for cancers of the large intestine and re**um. Two tests completed so far, both negative. I will continue to do this for 3 years, and then switch to a 6 month schedule for another 2 years before the doctors officially declare that I am cancer free. And later this year I will have a CT scan and a scope of my j-pouch.

I've been trying my best to stay healthy both mentally and physically during the pandemic. I'm avoiding all groups or gatherings. Get my groceries delivered. I haven't gone out to eat, not even where there's outdoor dining available. I have made a bunch of trips to the beach, where they are limiting access and folks are taking social distancing seriously. And I've stayed close with a small group of friends. It's a tough balance but I think that I'm making appropriate choices.

And after a lot of hand wringing, I've decided to take a trip at the end of this month up to Provincetown, Cape Cod, Massachusetts. I've been going there every summer for the past 3 summers and it's one of the things that I really look forward to each summer. It's not going to be the same this year, almost all of the entertainment has been cancelled, but the change of scenery, easy access to the beach and biking trails, will be a delightful change of pace and a welcome relief to the monotony of staying home.

Dan's Journey to Recovery from Cancer