By Kevin Murphy
Special to NKyTribune
It started in early December. Simple lower back pain. I thought it was from failing to stretch before playing golf. I had several epidurals, but they did not work. I had an MRI in Orlando on December 31st, and the result was a few bulging disks, stenosis—the back of an older golfer.
In January, my back became far more painful, to the point where it was getting increasingly difficult to walk. A young doctor friend suggested an MRI of my pelvis and abdominal region. The results were suspect, so my orthopedic doctor and good friend Angelo Colosimo, a man with a heart of gold, ordered a CAT scan. And on February 3rd at 8:03 a.m., he told me I had late-stage, fully metastasized cancer. It was everywhere. My neck. My larynx. Four lesions/tumors on my spine that destroyed three vertebrae. Two in my kidneys, one in my liver, and two in my lungs. Unbeknownst to me, my kidneys were beginning to fail. Angelo’s face said it all. I was in deep trouble.
First, we had to discover what kind of cancer I had. I was more than familiar with cancer. My mother had kidney cancer. My father had prostate cancer, and my wife had Hodgkins’ Lymphoma. Operation number one was to biopsy the lesion in my throat. The result? A cancer I never heard of — Multiple Myeloma. Obviously, no cancer is good. But Multiple Myeloma is one of the worst, because it can never be defeated. Even if you are lucky enough to get in remission, it will always come back.
I had all the courage and will in the world to fight this cancer. What I could not find within me was the courage to tell my daughters that I was facing what looked like the end of my life. What do I say? How do I tell them? I agonized over this task for days, even though I knew that they would be upset that I did not tell them right away. I knew how much pain they endured when they lost their mother in 2020. I finally told my youngest daughter Kathleen. Elizabeth was on vacation in Hawaii, and I did not want to ruin her trip. Kathleen’s bachelor’s degree was in nursing, so after a bit of time being stunned and upset with me that I did not tell her immediately, she put her training to work. One decision my daughters made—without consulting me may have saved my life. They switched me from one local hospital to Jewish Hospital in Cincinnati. Jewish specializes in blood-related cancer.
The first 10 days were a whirlwind. Scans, bloodwork, and as stated, an operation to examine and biopsy the lesion in my throat. I am so grateful to Dr. Chad Zender. He stayed late to see me on the day my friend Angelo broke the bad news to me. Dr. Zender moved his schedule to operate on me the following week so we could find out what kind of cancer I had. Thank you Dr. Zender for your compassion and for making me a priority. I am in your debt.
So how did I react to all this? I went to my church the day after Angelo broke the news. I wanted to find out who I could talk to about my funeral to take away that burden from my daughters. But something was going on I did not understand. I was remarkably calm and could not understand why.
Several years ago, I joined a men’s Bible study group. It is quite a diverse group of 30 to 35 guys. The youngest is 19, and the oldest is 80. Black, white, Asian, ex-cons, a doctor, business owners, a nurse — all with many things in common. Every one of us in this life was broken, and everyone had regrets. All had hope. And with the older men, I heard remarkable stories of how Jesus changed their life.
This group helped me examine my life and make changes. I have always had issues with anxiety and worry. And by reading the Bible with these men, answers were there. In Matthew, Jesus said come to me, all who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
With each passing week with this Bible study group in 2023 and 2024, I found myself worrying far less. I was working on my weakness — faith. I was trying hard to take my hands off the wheel and surrender to Christ.
So one night about 10 days after hearing that 80 percent of my blood marrow was cancer, I tried to figure out why I was so calm. It was something one of the guys in the Bible group said to me last year. Why do you worry Murphy about things you cannot control? So that night, I had a 3 a.m. talk with Jesus. I told Him I wanted to see my grandchildren grow up and spend more time with my daughters. I had more work to do and things to accomplish, so I asked Him to heal me. However, if it was His will that it was my time to go, I was ready. And when I woke up, I had a sense of peace that I had never felt before. How I wish that I could bottle that peace and drink from it every day. How I wish I could give it to you.
I had a chunk of my hip taken for a genetic test. I was told there were four categories relating to your chances of reaching remission. Low risk. Medium risk. High risk. Ultra-high risk. Of course, my name is Murphy, and I am a lawyer. So I suffer from Murphy’s Law. That, and being born on April Fool’s Day, should tell you what category I fell into. Yep, the ultra-high risk. When that news was broken to us at Jewish Hospital, Kathleen tried hard, but began to cry. I knew then that my chances were slim and none, and slim was outside starting the hearse.
Just ten weeks later, against very long odds, I was in remission. Jesus gave me my miracle.
I have so many people to thank, starting with my daughters. Elizabeth took a lot of time off from work to drive me to and from the hospital for treatment. I moved into Kathleen’s basement because I could not walk, thanks to those four lesions sitting on several vertebrae in my back. Kathleen waited on me—cooked for me — kept all my prescriptions straight — and with Elizabeth, did a lot of research. That is what got me to Jewish Hospital in Cincinnati, one of the best hospitals in the nation for blood related cancers. I do not have the words to express my gratitude to Dr. Patel and her entire team. They made sure I kept a positive attitude. The nursing staff there is incredible.
I don’t know how I could ever thank my friend Dr. Angelo Colosimo. He convinced his friend Dr. Guanciale to operate on my back twice. There are many orthopedics that are quite hesitant to operate on the back of a patient with cancer. But Dr. Guanciale came to my rescue, and got me out of a wheelchair, where I languished for five months.
I’m nearing the end. In July, we learned that the cancer fractured my hip, so I needed a new hip. The sixth surgery was the insertion of tubes in my chest needed for my blood marrow stem cell transplant. As you read this, I am in the hospital receiving a horrible dose of chemo. I will lose all my hair and be sick as a dog for about 10 days. Thirty days in the hospital in isolation and two months indoors at home. I have to get all my childhood immunizations again. I have this vision of being on the floor of a pediatrician’s office, coloring with a couple of five-year-olds.
In the main cancer treatment room at Jewish, there is a big sign that says Cancer sucks. Nobody can go through it alone. David said it best in Psalm 23. The Lord was indeed my shepherd throughout this horrific ordeal. That 3 a.m. talk was leading me to peace, much like the line in the Psalm about making me lie down in green pastures and beside still waters. And when I began to worry through all the chemo and radiation and the puking, David’s Psalm said it all. Yes, though I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death, I had nothing to fear. For He was with me.
I know for certain Christ gave me a miracle, and put the right people into my life. Thank you, Jesus, for this miracle. And thank you to Elizabeth and Kathleen, who not only helped me, but gave me a reason to live and fight.
And finally on a lighter note, to all my friends and colleagues, when you see me, go easy on the bald jokes. Lawyers have feelings too, you know.
Kevin Murphy is an attorney with Murphy Landen and Jones in Fort Mitchell and is a long-time resident of Northern Kentucky. He is the author of ‘Surviving Cancer After Surviving Cancer,’ his award-winning book about his wife’s cancer. He has spoken all over the country about coping with the emotional side of cancer.