cancer

Celebrating Remission

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Friends,

I have neglected to share the great news I received around New Year of this year following the completion of 12 rounds of chemotherapy, which ended on December 26th. For those who do not know, I have been battling Stage 4 colon cancer for the past year after being diagnosed in February 2024. I had a summary PET scan on January 6th and received the results the next day. My wife, Gretchen, who saw them first, came home in tears of joy to share the news: no evidence of cancer anywhere in my body!

Later that day, an oncology team member confirmed the results, and we met with my lead oncologist just a few days later. She reaffirmed the great news: there are no active cancer cells in my body, and I am officially in remission!

 Given the aggressive nature of this cancer, Dr. Changella recommended continuing oral chemotherapy (pills) and transitioning to immunotherapy infusions to reduce the chances of recurrence, either locally or elsewhere. While I was initially disappointed to continue any kind of treatment, she reassured me that this is standard practice (“maintenance”) and a proactive step forward. I’ll now have follow-up scans every three months or so, eventually transitioning to six-month intervals.

 The good news is that the oral chemo and immunotherapy have much milder side effects compared to last year’s chemo infusions. I can expect my energy, immune system function and red blood cell counts to return to more normal levels.

 On that note, I’ve also returned to full-time work (as a Creative Director / Project Manager) following a year of part-time work—a huge blessing for Gretchen and me. I’ve also started a more consistent and robust exercise routine and have stopped taking appetite stimulants. In short, I’m beginning 2025 with great optimism and much gratitude.

 Looking back to February 2024, when I first received the (bad) news, I resolved to do everything I could to fight the disease while also immediately turning everything over to God, who assured me in a very real-world, unambiguous way, that I’d be okay. While doctors have reminded me that I may never be “cancer-free,” I feel extremely confident and hopeful. Life is a gift and I’ve never taken any of it for granted (well, at least not since my twenties, anyway, lol1

 I will still need to monitor my kidney health (they suffered some collateral damage as a result of the cancer at the onset), so I’d appreciate your continued prayers in that regard.

Looking ahead, I envision 2025 as a year of recovery and regaining my strength. Actually, my strength is already pretty good, I just need to work on my breath/lungs for running. I plan to follow my doctors’ advice, but I truly don’t expect the cancer to return anytime soon. I’m eager to fully enjoy work, return to the gym, run on the beach, surf, and care for my own yard again (thank you, Martin Barkoskie, for your help last year!). Gretchen, the girls, and I are also planning a special vacation out west in May to celebrate my recovery, my birthday, and Gretchen and I’s 30th wedding anniversary.

This year-long+ journey has taught me so much. I’ve grown spiritually, learned to trust God more deeply (rather than depending on myself so often), and I’ve learned more about the incredible, real power of prayer. I’ve become more empathetic, affectionate, and open. I give hugs and share my feelings more freely than I used to. I’ve learned how you can battle through the toughest, most grueling physical challenges in part by “embracing the suck”, (a philosophy employed by the Marines and Navy Seals), remaining hopeful through difficulties in knowing that the future always holds the possibility of improvement.

 Our church, family, friends, and fellow brothers and sisters in Christ from all over have been a tremendous source of support. Gretchen and I are so deeply grateful for the love, prayers, and encouragement we’ve received this year. It’s truly been overwhelming. No need was ever unmet. Please know that we thank God for all of you, every day!

 Looking to the future, while I don’t know what all of God’s plans for me are, I can assure you that no matter what it looks like, I will continue to put my full trust and faith in Him and the truth of His words. And to anyone facing similar challenges, I encourage you to lean on His infinite love, power, grace, and mercy.

Thank you again for your continued prayers and support. I hope this is my last health update for a long while, but I’ll share any significant news if needed.

 With gratitude and love – Tim

Keeping the Challenges of Business in Perspective

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Keeping the Challenges of Business in Perspective

Yesterday afternoon, I attended the memorial of friend and business associate, Stephen George William Parker. Stephen lost a year-long battle with cancer last Sunday. He was only 46. A large group of family and friends gathered to celebrate his life under an ocean pavilion at the St. Augustine Pier. When my day comes, I’d like to be remembered exactly as Stephen was– with warm ocean breezes, good food, cold beverages and a live band, along with a low-key slideshow and a few heartfelt remembrances from family and friends.

For those that didn’t know Steve, he was a kind and generous guy– always quick with a smile and a wry remark, often laced with a little self-depreciating humor. He loved traveling, music, the ocean and his family- including his wife, Cindy; their two daughters; and his three brothers, with whom he was very close.

Like many of us here in North Florida, Stephen was a survivor of the real estate market meltdown. He was Vice President of Parker Associates, a real estate development / and marketing consultation firm where he shared duties with his father David, and older brother, Chris. From Florida, to Costa Rica, to Russia, if you wanted to know what to build upon a certain piece of property; how to position it; price it; and market it; then these guys could tell you. Their endurance through the market turmoil is a testament to their expertise and professionalism. With markets still trying to find their way forward and property changing hands, their insights today are more valuable than ever.

As many from Jacksonville (we, who lived “inside” of one of the nation’s largest real estate bubbles), will tell you, the battle back has been long and arduous. And while Steve and his family have overcome incredible challenges that saw so many other real-estate related companies fail over these past 2.5 years, the merciless serial killer that is cancer came along and buggered up the victory celebration for all of us.

Or perhaps I should say, “almost all of us”. Not for Stephen, himself.

You see, what those closest to Stephen reassured us was that he passed away with absolutely no regrets. He never waited for life to “happen” to him, but always “attacked” it with gusto. If there was a place he wanted to visit, but he didn’t have the funds, he’d find a way to get them. When there didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day for the business at hand, he’d still find a way to get the job done and do so without sacrificing time for his family, friends or even just acquaintances, who he always made feel important. To me, achieving this kind of balance is what defines a “successful” life.

Today more than ever, it is easy to lose sight of the immeasurable value that each day holds and the pricelessness of the people we spend those days with. Our family. Our friends. Our co-workers. Yes, we face a challenging economy and uncertain times. Yes, technological evolution has enabled, and as a result, required us to fit more tasks into fewer hours, often for less money, raising the bars for efficiency and production to ever higher levels.

But at the end of each day, or more appropriately, at the beginning– we owe it to ourselves to pause and reflect on the things that truly matter in this life. We are not guaranteed tomorrow. We are not even guaranteed our next breath. So, if you wish to live a life with no regrets, the kind of life that Stephen George William Parker lived, then don’t wait on it to come to you. Go out and grab it. At home. At work. On the beach. And remember to always do it without losing sight of the important people around you. You never know when they’ll be gone. Steve, we will miss you.