May 31st was the first worst day of our lives. On May 31st, Lance was diagnosed with late-stage renal cell carcinoma with metastasis to his other kidney and liver and with complex "tumor thrombus" that extend upward into the renal vein, IVC (inferior vena cava), and the right atrium of the heart, as well as downward into the bilateral iliac veins and left common femoral vein.

That's a lot of words to say, "This isn't good."

Due to the complexity of the mass, the unknown nature of the tumor, and how much tissue may be involved, the urologist said he couldn't find anyone in Austin or the surrounding areas willing to take on the case. So, on Sunday, June 3rd, we'll pack up and head to Houston's MD Anderson center to start the next round of this journey. Dates aren't determined yet, but here's the expected course of action: 

1) Major (likely, open heart) surgery to remove the affected kidney and as much of the tumor as humanly possible. The open heart part is likely necessary (it's what we've been told so far) because of the unknown involvement of the tissue of the vena cava and atrium. In the best-case scenario, the tumor thrombus can just be pulled out of the veins and heart without any problem, but if there's involvement of the tissue, removal of as much tissue as possible and reconstruction of the veins will be required. We just won't know until the surgery is taking place. 

2) Further treatment to attack the metastasized cancer. This could be chemo, radiation, or special immunotherapy. We don't know, and likely won't know until after we speak to the doctors on Monday or later this week. 

3) Presumably, post-surgery and treatment therapy.

Guys, this all sucks really bad. Like, really bad. We're fortunate to have health insurance and modest savings, but there will be deductibles, co-pays, co-insurance, prescriptions, travel and hotel expenses, meals, and, I'm sure, a truckload of medical bills that will continue to pile up over the next year and quite possibly, beyond. We have no idea what the total of these expenses will be, but in all likelihood, more than we have in the bank. 

It's hard to humble ourselves and ask for help, but if there's ever a time to lean on others, it's now. We are so grateful for anything anyone is willing to contribute. If you can't contribute monetarily, please add Lance, his doctors, and our entire circle of family and friends to your prayers. Your love has already been felt more than you can imagine. 

Who Is Lance? 

Lance is a 41-year old husband, son, and brother. He's loving, kind-hearted, bull-headed, and tenacious. This isn't the first medical trial he's faced. After unknown systemic pain throughout high school that prevented him from playing sports, he fought back for his health, overcame his ailments, and went on to play collegiate baseball after walking on to the McLennan Community College team. There, he amassed an amazing .481 batting average that landed him on the First Team All-American list, ultimately named the Player of the Year in Texas. 

After earning his degree in Exercise and Sport Science in 2003, he spent five years personal training before teaching himself computer programming. 

Lance and I will celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary on July 5th of this year. He is my best friend, my rock, my everything. He gets my weird sense of humor, and I appreciate his ability to focus, study, problem solve, and generally work harder to succeed than anyone else I've met in my whole life. He's an incredible soul. 


Cancer sucks. This diagnosis isn't fair. Lance is young, healthy, active. But he's also a fighter and he's in this to win it.