My Journey with Sarcoma
Some moments in life divide your story into “before” and “after.”
For me, that moment came in January 2021 when I heard the words:
“You have cancer.”
Those four words changed everything.
Before My Diagnosis
Before cancer entered my life, I spent my career as a Wall Street trader. I was used to pressure, long hours, making decisions, and pushing through difficult situations. Stress was part of my everyday world.
So when I started throwing up almost every night in June 2020, I convinced myself it was just stress. I thought I could manage it. I thought I could push through.
In June 2020, I weighed 225 pounds.
My wife saw something different.
She kept telling me to go to the doctor.
I did not listen.
Looking back, one of my biggest regrets is not listening to her sooner. My wife’s instincts, persistence, and love helped save my life.
By December 2020, I weighed 215 pounds and was still trying to work through my symptoms.
Finally, I knew something was wrong.
The Diagnosis
When I sought medical care, I was scheduled for a CT scan of my chest.
Due to a technician’s mistake, the scan was performed on my abdomen instead.
That mistake saved my life.
The scan discovered a tumor.
In January 2021, I was diagnosed with dedifferentiated liposarcoma, a rare and aggressive form of sarcoma.
Sarcoma is a form of cancer that develops in the body’s connective tissues, including muscle, fat, bone, nerves, and blood vessels. Sarcoma can affect people of all ages, including children, teenagers, and adults.
Because sarcoma is rare, it can sometimes be difficult to diagnose. Many patients and families face uncertainty while searching for answers. Awareness, research, and access to specialized sarcoma care are critical.
Initially, getting the specialized care I needed was challenging. The hospital could not get me scheduled until February 2021.
A close friend named Lisa stepped in and helped me get connected with BJC HealthCare in St. Louis in early January 2021. Lisa was a volunteer at BJC, and because of her kindness, persistence, and willingness to help, I was able to receive care sooner.
Lisa saved my life.
I will always be grateful for what she did for me and my family.
Sharing the News with My Family
In January 2021, after learning about my diagnosis, I talked with each of my three daughters separately.
Those conversations are moments I will never forget.
My oldest daughter told me:
“Trust the process.”
Her words reminded me that I was surrounded by skilled doctors, nurses, and caregivers who knew how to fight this disease. She taught me that courage is not always about having control—it is also about trusting the people who are helping you.
My middle daughter told me:
“I will pray for you.”
Her words reminded me of the power of faith and the strength that comes from knowing people are praying and standing beside you.
My youngest daughter told me:
“That is why we have life insurance.”
At first, I smiled.
But the wisdom behind her words stayed with me. She understood that life is unpredictable and that protecting the people you love matters. She was thinking about our family’s future and making sure the people we love would be cared for.
Today, my wife and I are blessed with eight grandchildren. They are one of the greatest joys of our lives and one of my biggest motivations to keep fighting.
At the time of my diagnosis, we had two grandchildren.
When I met with my surgeon, I showed him pictures of them and told him:
“I want to see them start kindergarten.”
That became one of my reasons to fight.
Next month, in August 2026, those two grandchildren will start kindergarten.
A moment I prayed for, worked for, and will never take for granted.
Treatment and the Fight to Get Stronger
At the time of my diagnosis, I was working at Stifel.
I cannot fully express how grateful I am for the way Stifel supported me and my family. During one of the hardest times of our lives, they showed compassion, flexibility, and genuine care. They stood beside us when we needed it most.
In February 2021, I began radiation and participated in a clinical trial.
In March 2021, my surgery was called off because I was too weak.
That was one of the lowest moments of my journey.
My wife and I decided we were not going to give up.
We started walking every day to help me regain my strength. Those walks became more than exercise. They became a symbol of hope, faith, and determination.
One step at a time, we worked toward the surgery I needed.
My wife also spoke with my surgeon and encouraged him to reconsider moving forward.
She fought for me.
She believed in me.
In April 2021, surgeons removed a 12-pound tumor.
The surgery saved my life.
But when I woke up, I had paralysis in my leg.
Learning to Walk Again
One of the biggest challenges after surgery was learning to walk again.
Something many people do without thinking became one of the hardest things I had ever done.
I had to rebuild strength, confidence, and trust in my body.
There were days when progress felt slow. There were days of frustration and uncertainty.
But every small victory mattered.
Standing.
Taking a step.
Walking farther than the day before.
Each step represented another opportunity to be with my family.
By May 2021, I weighed 145 pounds.
In August 2021, I experienced one of the greatest joys of my life.
I walked my youngest daughter down the aisle.
After everything I had been through—the diagnosis, radiation, surgery, paralysis, and learning to walk again—I was able to be there for one of the most important moments in her life.
Every step down that aisle was a gift.
It represented faith, family, perseverance, and gratitude.
Today, I weigh 175 pounds.
Finding Purpose Again
After recovering, I found a new purpose teaching personal finance at Lift for Life Academy in St. Louis.
Teaching there became one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.
The students, teachers, and community inspired me every day. Helping young people understand money, build confidence, and prepare for their futures gave me a purpose beyond my previous career.
One of the leaders at Lift for Life told me something I will never forget:
“Do not let your diagnosis define you.”
Those words changed how I viewed my journey.
Cancer is part of my story.
It is not my entire story.
When my cancer returned in October 2025, one of the hardest parts was stepping away from teaching. Leaving my students broke my heart.
But the lessons I learned stayed with me.
What I Learned
1. Listen to the people who love you.
My wife encouraged me to see a doctor when I wanted to keep pushing forward. Her voice mattered. Sometimes the people closest to us see things we cannot see ourselves.
2. No one fights alone.
My journey was made possible by my wife, my daughters, my grandchildren, Lisa, my friends, Stifel, Lift for Life, my medical teams, and so many others who supported me.
3. Hope is powerful.
There were many moments when the future was uncertain. Hope gave me the strength to keep moving forward.
4. Every moment matters.
Walking my daughter down the aisle, watching my grandchildren grow, teaching students, and spending time with family are gifts I appreciate more deeply than ever.
5. A diagnosis does not define you.
Cancer changed my life, but it did not take away my purpose.
Gratitude
I believe in the power of prayer and community.
A friend once told me:
“It is easy to be a friend when times are good. Real friends are there when times are tough.”
Those words have stayed with me.
I am grateful beyond words for my wife, whose love, strength, persistence, and faith carried me through my darkest days.
I am grateful for my three daughters and eight grandchildren, who give me endless reasons to keep fighting.
I am grateful for Lisa, Stifel, my Lift for Life family, my friends, my colleagues, my caregivers, nurses, physicians, and everyone who offered prayers, encouragement, and support.
No one walks a cancer journey alone.
Sarcoma changed my life, but it also changed my perspective.
It taught me to appreciate every day, every relationship, every conversation, and every opportunity to make a difference.
I share my story because I want others facing sarcoma to know they are not alone.
A diagnosis may change your life.
But it does not define who you are.
Your story is still being written.
Word of Wisdom
Your diagnosis does not define you!
