This is Herman Cain!

by Herman Cain

  “Why are you frustrated?” I asked.

  “Because of the direction of this country and I don’t know what to do. Give me some advice.”

  “Are you a registered voter?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  Then I asked him, “Do you vote in all the elections?”

  He said “Yes! What else can I do? I’m frustrated! I don’t know what to do. I can’t stop this all by myself.”

  I’m a firm believer that the Founding Fathers got it right when they penned those great documents, the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States of America, so I said, “Do you have a copy of the Declaration of Independence?”

  He said, “Yes.”

  I said, “Go get it.” Well, he went and got it and came back on the line and I said, “Turn to the part about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness—flip, flip, flip, flip—Got it?”

  “Got it!”

  “Now when you get to the part where it says, ‘Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,’ here’s what you can do to help change things.”

  “What?”

  “Keep reading and you’ll find that it says, ‘When any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it.’ Well, we’ve got to alter the occupant of the White House and abolish this intrusion of the federal government in our lives; that’s what we’ve got to do. It is not only our right, but our responsibility.”

  That young man thanked me and I said, “So get involved; get active; do something—everybody can do different things.”

  7

  Beating Stage Four Cancer

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me.

  —Psalm 23:4

  In February 2006, I heard three words that would change my life forever.

  I was a member of the board of directors of the Whirlpool Corporation, whose headquarters is located in Benton Harbor, Michigan, and I had been asked to give a speech there as part of the observance of Black History Month. Now, I’m not really fond of Black History Month—why do we only get a month? How come we can’t we get a whole year? But I know their CEO, and I love their management team, and they said, “Why don’t you come up and give a speech to the employees?” So I accepted their invitation.

  They always sent one of their company planes to pick me up when I was going to a board meeting, and since this occasion was official corporate business, they sent one to pick me up this time, too.

  On the way up to Benton Harbor, I felt a pain in my lower intestine. I thought, “Maybe it’s something that I’ve eaten.” When I landed, I immediately went to the restroom. What I didn’t know at the time was that I had a tumor in my colon and it had ruptured. I went on and gave the speech, and they flew me back to Atlanta.

  I went to my doctor the next day and he said, “You need a colonoscopy, but I can tell you what it sounds like: It sounds like you’ve got a cancerous tumor in your colon.” He was right. I had the colonoscopy and they confirmed it. I found out about that tumor almost purely by accident. If that tumor had not ruptured, I might not have known that I needed to go and get treatment.

  The next thing I heard was: “You need to go and get a CAT scan to check out your entire abdomen.” So I did that, but they didn’t tell me the results. They always want your doctor to give you the results. He did. Then, CAT scan results in hand, I went to see a surgeon, a young lady who had been one for about six years and was recommended by the colonoscopy doctor.

  Gloria was with me, and the surgeon talked to us for forty minutes, explaining about my colon cancer and what the re-sectioning procedure was, and on and on and on. Near the end of the conversation, almost as an afterthought, she said, “Now, I don’t know what I’m going to do about those tumors in your liver until after I open you up.”

  “What tumors in my liver?” I demanded.

  “Oh, you didn’t know?” she said.

  “No,” I replied.

  Gloria and I were shocked coming out of that surgeon’s office. I’ll never forget it. That was the first time that I was emotionally shaken. I can deal with stuff if I know it. I wasn’t shaken when the doctor came in and said, “You’ve got cancer in your colon.” I was ready for that. But when it’s thrown at you as a surprise, it’s a shock.

  We were getting into our car—the surgeon’s office was only five minutes from where we live—and Gloria asked me, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Do you need me to drive?” she asked.

  “No, I can drive.” Then I said, “This is a true test of my faith.”

  “Our faith,” Gloria corrected me.

  I drove us home and we prayed and then I said, “We’ll figure out what we need to do.”

  I went in to work the next day. I told a young lady who then worked for me, named Ericka, what the results were. She had been doing some research online and she said, “First of all, you need to go to a cancer center, not a hospital that works on cancer.” She had already researched Sloan Kettering, in New York, and MD Anderson, in Houston, for me. She said, “Those are the top two in the country. Do you know someone that can help you get into MD Anderson?”

  I said, “Yes I do. Boone Pickens, the oil magnate.”

  I called Boone Pickens, a good friend to this day. He used to be on the board of MD Anderson and was a contributor, and he called the head of the hospital and said, “Herman Cain is not just another person trying to get into MD Anderson; he’s also a friend of mine.”

  After she told me about MD Anderson, my friend Ericka said, “You need a second opinion.”

  That’s when I pushed back. I said, “Why?” I asked. “I had a colonoscopy and they said I have cancer; the surgeon said I have cancer in my liver. Why do I need a second opinion? I’m ready to schedule the surgery.”

  “You need a second opinion!” she insisted. “If you don’t get a second opinion, I am going to body-slam you myself!”

  That was a threat! She was just saying: Get a second opinion to confirm everything that I had already learned because a friend of hers who worked at the National Health Institute said: “Always get a second opinion, no matter what.”

  It was just the right thing to do—and I didn’t want to be body-slammed, because I already had cancer, so I said, “Well, who do you recommend?”

  That’s when she told me: “Go to see a doctor in Savannah”—Ericka is from Savannah—“he’s a colon resection specialist.”

  “I’m not driving all the way to Savannah, Georgia,” I said. “That’s way out of the way. Find me a second opinion here in Atlanta.”

  She insisted, “Go to the one in Savannah!”

  “Why?”

  “His name is Dr. Lord. Be there Monday.”

  “I’ll be there Monday,” I said.

  So I went to Savannah on Monday to see Dr. Lord. He was very nice. I brought all my files—my CAT scan, colonoscopy results, blood results, chest X-ray results—and he confirmed everything and he said,” MD Anderson’s the right place to go.”

  Then he said, “Mr. Cain, go get some lunch. Give me about an hour and a half.”

  He called in several of his colleagues and they went over all of my results. I went back and talked to him and he didn’t charge me a dime—and he supported me in my Senate campaign. He said, “There’s something greater that you’re supposed to do for this country and this is my contribution.”

  This all happened in the middle of the week, and we told Melanie and Vincent that weekend. We have family dinners on Sunday, after we go to church, so we told them on that Sunday. We wanted them to be over at the house to explain it to them.

  Gloria and I went to Texas and I was admitted to the MD Anderson Center. I was scheduled for an orientation briefing by a particular staff member. However, that lady was busy with another couple, so we were assigned to another briefer. When I meet somebody for the first time, I usual
ly ask that person’s name, so I asked this nice lady: “What is your name?”

  “Grace,” she replied.

  Gloria and I looked at each other and smiled. You see, the Lord gives you these road signs—that is, if you know how to recognize them.

  Our orientation at an end, they assigned me to an oncologist and a surgeon, who had been chosen at random to treat me. After meeting with the oncologist, we went to the surgeon’s office and I asked him, “Since the colon is on one side of the body and the liver is on the other, will you perform two operations?”

  “No,” he said.

  “But don’t you have to cut me open on both sides,” I asked. “If not, how are you going to do this?”

  “We do this all the time,” the surgeon replied, putting his finger on my chest. “I’m going to make an incision like a ‘J.’”

  “Like in J-E-S-U-S?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  I replied, “A ‘J’ cut!”

  I smiled and said, “Thank you, Lord!” That’s because when you are in the “Word,” you can listen and hear when God is speaking to you.

  Just before I began my treatment, I was told by two doctors that I had only a 30 percent chance of surviving. But I had my faith, Gloria right at my side, the support of my family and closest friends, and the determination and belief that I could take the treatment.

  Then I had chemotherapy, followed by surgery: the resection of my colon—30 percent of it was removed—and the removal of 70 percent of my liver. More chemotherapy followed. Our ordeal, and Gloria shared every moment of it with me, lasted nine months.

  Well, it’s been more than six years since then. And guess what? I’m completely cancer-free! Cured!

  Why was I spared against those odds?

  God said, “Not yet!”

  Did it have something to do with the Lord wanting me to survive so that I might help set this great nation of ours on its own path of recovery?

  I had achieved what I thought was my plan in life.

  My journey now is God’s plan.

  But before my survival came endurance. Gloria, who only a year before my cancer diagnosis had developed a serious heart fibrillation and had to undergo surgery to implant a pacemaker, needed to feel that she had some control over the ordeal we were now facing together. So she began to compile what we called my “cancer timeline.”

  In doing so, she also brought a measure of comfort to cancer sufferers and their loved ones. Many people have told us how reading the timeline gave them the courage to face the otherwise unknown.

  I want to share our Cancer Timeline (Herman Cain) with you:

  February 9, 2006

  During a visit to Whirlpool Headquarters in Benton Harbor, Michigan, to give a speech, a tumor in my colon that I was unaware of ruptured. I gave the speech and returned home to Atlanta that day.

  February 10, 2006

  Visit to my primary care doctor, Dr. David Vann. One of his physician assistants, John Mark, examined me and recommended I get a colonoscopy immediately.

  March 22, 2006

  Colonoscopy performed by Dr. Brown, who confirmed that I had a tumor in my colon that was probably cancerous. The biopsy confirmed he was correct.

  MARCH 29, 2006

  Had a CAT scan done at Southwest Regional Medical Center.

  APRIL 4, 2006

  I met with a colon surgeon, Dr. Tahetia Wilson, who confirmed I had stage four cancer. When I asked what stage four is, she said, “That’s as bad as it gets, because it was also in your liver.” I did not know that!

  APRIL 11, 2006

  Got second opinion from Dr. Alan Lord (Savannah, Georgia). He confirmed all the previous results. I told him I was considering going to MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, Texas, for treatment. Dr. Lord said that was an excellent choice if I could get admitted. I was able to get admitted.

  APRIL 24, 2006

  My wife, Gloria, and I arrived at MD Anderson for orientation. It was given by the alternate at the orientation center. Her name was “Grace.”

  APRIL 25, 2006

  Got another CAT scan done at MD Anderson this morning so Dr. Eng could review it before my afternoon appointment.

  I met with Dr. Eng (oncologist), who had been assigned to my case. Her physician assistant was Fusun. They did not give a lot of last names, probably because they were so busy. But she was very nice and helpful.

  Dr. Eng confirmed my diagnosis of stage four cancer. That meant it was in at least two organs of my body—in my case, in my colon and liver.

  Dr. Eng recommended four chemo treatments at two-week intervals and then a rescan to see if the treatment had an effect on the tumors. If so, we could plan for surgery after a month of recovery from the chemotherapy.

  APRIL 28, 2006

  Met with Dr. Abdalla (surgeon) and his PA, Lee Samp. He confirmed his discussion with Dr. Eng and explained lesions on my liver affecting 80 percent of my liver.

  He also explained how he removes liver sections and not just lesions.

  BEST PART! Dr. Abdalla explained that the liver regenerates itself in about three months to 80 percent of original size! I DID NOT KNOW THAT! New great news!

  However, having only 20 percent good liver was borderline.

  He explained that colon resectioning was almost routine, no problem, and that he would remove about 30 percent of my colon and most of my liver in the same operation.

  He indicated one week in the hospital after surgery, one week in Houston, and then four to six weeks recuperating at home. After which, I would need two to four weeks of chemotherapy. The length of time would depend on my progress and test results.

  Sounded like a plan, I was ready to get started. Meeting with Dr. Abdalla was uplifting because he patiently explained things I did not know. I immediately felt a sense of TRUST with him and Gloria detected it also.

  Dr. Abdalla thought I was in excellent physical condition and didn’t see why I even had the cancer, since there was no family history with Mom, Dad, or my brother.

  Sixty percent of the people who use this approach live a minimum of five years or more, and half of these are COMPLETELY CURED! “We plan for Herman to be one of the completely cured” (Gloria).

  Dr. Abdalla recommended that both our children get tested by age fifty. I suggested by age forty and I would pay for the tests if necessary.

  MAY 1, 2006

  Dr. Abdalla’s PA (Lee) called and said the CAT scan results showed that HC only had 18 percent good liver, needed minimum of 20 percent to go ahead with the surgery. He and Dr. Eng recommended that I do two months of chemo to see if the tumors on the liver would shrink to get up to the 20 percent needed.

  MAY 4, 2006

  Met with Dr. Martin York in Atlanta with Peachtree Chemotology to do two months of chemo (four treatments, one every other week). The plan was for the first two to be with “FOLFOX with avastin” and the second two without avastin.

  Dr. Abdalla wanted the avastin out of my system before surgery since it affects blood clotting.

  JULY 7, 2006

  I completed the four treatments and returned to Houston for my appointment with Dr. Abdalla. The CT scan had been done the previous day. Good news! The tumors had shrunk, but the amount of good liver was still borderline. Dr. Abdalla wanted to use another procedure to make sure we were above the minimum of 20 percent good liver. He ordered a PORTAL VEIN EMBOLIZATION, never heard of it! Dr. Abdalla had me admitted to the hospital for the procedure that day. It was not an emergency, but Dr. Abdalla had the same sense of urgency I had to keep the process moving.

  So, instead of being admitted for surgery at the beginning of July as we had expected, I was admitted for this special procedure, which would take another month to see the results.

  Gloria and I had come prepared for a hospital stay, and I was admitted for the PVE that day, which would require at least an overnight stay.

  My appointment with Dr. Abdalla started at about 9:00 A.M., and by 10:55 A.M. I was being pre
pped for the procedure.

  After prep they took me into the surgical room at 11:10 A.M., which was to take about two and a half hours. Gloria waited in the waiting room.

  A Dr. Wallace performed the PVE procedure. The procedure involved a puncture through my side into the liver to locate the veins that were to be blocked. The blocked veins would restrict blood to the bad part of the liver and allow the good part to grow faster. Simply amazing, never heard of such a thing.

  At 1:10 P.M. I was out and back on the prep area where they called Gloria to come back in. I had to wait until 1:50 P.M. for a hospital room to become available.

  When I woke up I did not feel any significant pain or discomfort. Taken to hospital room for overnight stay and all went well, and released the next day.

  Feeling confident that the PVE would give me the cushion of good liver, Dr. Abdalla set the surgery date for August 2, 2006. A new CT scan and a meeting with Dr. Abdalla were on the preceding two days.

  JULY 31, 2006

  The new CT scan on July 31 showed 30 percent good liver as a result of the PVE and the prechemo! Great result!

  AUGUST 1, 2006

  During appointment on August 1, Dr. Abdalla very clearly explained the surgery and how it would proceed. Only one incision would be required for both the colon resectioning and the liver resectioning. I asked how and where he would cut me open. He showed me and said it would be in the shape of a “J.” I immediately thought that was a good sign, a Jesus cut!

  AUGUST 2, 2006, SURGERY

  5:30 A.M., reported to patient registration—MD Anderson.

  5:35 A.M., taken to patient prep area 5th floor. 6:40 A.M., hospital chaplain came by and did prayer with HC and GC.

  7:50 A.M., Dr. Mohinda (anesthesiologist) started IV (epidural).

  7:55 A.M., HC to surgery GC to waiting room with Mel and Vincent.

  8:39 A.M., actual surgery started.

  10:20 A.M., first update from nurse Carol. She reported everything was going well. No complications.

  12:20 P.M., nurse Carol update. All the liver was done, still everything was going well. No surprises.

  1:45 P.M., nurse Carol reported that the colon section had been removed, and they were reconnecting.