Living One Day at a Time and Never Giving Up Hope: Lessons from an AML Cancer Survivor
Life is unpredictable. It can throw unexpected challenges at us, testing our strength, resilience, and hope. My story began in November of 2020 with a dreaded phone call from my doctor’s office. The results of my bone marrow biopsy were in and I had Acute Myeloid Leukemia or AML. AML is a fast growing and life-threatening cancer of the blood and bone marrow. It was so serious that I needed to get myself to the emergency room right away. The doctors gave me a 50% chance of surviving, but only if I had a bone marrow transplant. The news shook me to the core, changing the course of my life in ways I never imagined. The treatment journey was grueling—months of chemotherapy, intense medical procedures, and the persistent uncertainty of whether my body would respond to the treatment.
As I endured the treatments, uncertainties, and fears, I realized two guiding principles that helped me navigate the darkest moments. When you hear them you are probably going to think they are pretty simple. But they aren’t. It took me the first 60 years of my life and a horrible disease to fully understand their deep meaning.
After I was admitted to the hospital to begin chemotherapy, I immediately became overwhelmed by the treatments that lay ahead for me. It was impossible to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Faced with the daunting task of surviving chemo, I realized I would have to change the way I looked at my life. That is when I articulated my first guiding principle. I would need to live my life one day at a time. Living one day at a time taught me to appreciate the small victories. First I simply focused on getting through the treatment of the day and not worrying about the next day’s treatment and challenges. As time went by, I learned to enjoy each and every day of my life. Finally today I find myself constantly and consistently focusing on the moment. I have learned to appreciate the smallest things in life like waking up in the morning and enjoying the fresh air. Sometimes the smallest things in life turn out to be the most important.
Suleika Jaouad, a writer and AML survivor, wrote the following: “The conventional wisdom here is very carpe diem. It’s that you should live every day as if it’s your last. But as I’ve written before, I’ve left that adage behind, not only because it has such a doomsday cast to it, but also because, when we think in those terms, the focus is on what we can take—from a moment, from the people around us. It’s “What can I wrench out of life?” as opposed to “What can I give?”
Instead, my guiding principle is to meet every day as if it’s my first—to welcome each new morning with the wonder and curiosity of a newborn. Rather than what I can get out of this life or what I can seize from it, I’ve reoriented my gaze to what feels life-giving—both to my own sense of well-being and to the other humans and creatures around me.”
In essence, Jaouad emphasizes a perspective of mindfulness, gratitude, and generosity. By orienting herself towards what feels life-giving and meaningful, she finds a deeper appreciation for each moment and a more enriching way to interact with the world.
Each day for me has become a microcosm of hope and perseverance. Instead of dwelling on the past or worrying about the future, I focus on what I can control—the present moment. This mindset shift was not just a coping mechanism; it has become a way of life. By taking each day as it comes, I relish the moments of joy, gratitude, and peace even amidst the pain and uncertainty.
Before I talk about the second guiding principle, I need to tell you the rest of my story. Not every story has a fairy tale ending and my story didn’t have one either. Not yet.
It’s the day of my transplant, February 10, 2021. A bone marrow transplant is very different from an organ transplant. There is no surgery. You just lay in your hospital bed and they hook you up to an IV bag filled with the donors bone marrow cells. And when the IV was empty, the transplant nurse unhooked me and said “Mr. Katz, happy birthday” And I looked at her and said what are you talking about, my birthday is in April. She said “no, Mr. Katz, it’s your rebirth day today. And for the first time in months, I smiled and understood what she meant. It was my new birthday and I had just received the most amazing gift. The gift of life, a second chance at living a normal healthy life.
The first 100 days post-transplant are the most important and many patients struggle. It took me 3 weeks to regain enough strength to be discharged from the hospital. And I landed back in the hospital twice, once due to a virus and a second time due to an infection. The rest of the first 100 days were all the same. In the morning, I would drag myself out of bed and my wife would drop me off at the cancer outpatient clinic for my daily treatment. I would take the elevator up to the seventh floor clinic, open the door to the waiting room and all I would see was a room full of patients, waiting to get their daily treatments and to get the results of their blood tests, hoping not to hear that their cancer had returned.
Day 97 started out just like every other day, except at that appointment I found out my cancer had returned. I had relapsed. That’s when I asked my doctor - What are my chances of surviving? The answer was only 30%. My doctor told me about my new treatment plan which included a second donation from my donor, if he was willing. For a brief moment I thought about quitting, giving up, I had tried my hardest but it just wasn’t meant to be. I took a deep breath and realized the most important lesson in my life and my second guiding principle. Never give up hope.
Hope, for me, was an active force that fueled my determination to fight. It was hope that kept me going during the darkest hours of chemotherapy when my body felt like it was betraying me. It was hope that sustained me through the transplant process, with its own set of risks and uncertainties.
I understand that hope is a powerful ally in the fight against my cancer. It is what kept me pushing forward day by day, even against the odds. When I had hope I had a chance for healing and recovery.
If your battle seems really hard, that’s when you need to fight the hardest, do the things that are hardest to do to take the battle further towards the finish line. Even when you are tired and sick you still need to have hope. And that’s exactly what I did. I never gave up hope each day.
My story is about more than just surviving; it's about the strength and resilience of the human spirit. It shows how powerful our attitude and perspective can be when facing tough times. Through my experience, I learned that life isn't always fair or predictable, but how we respond to challenges shapes our journey. Every setback taught me something new about myself and life. I learned to accept vulnerability and find strength in unexpected places. Cancer took away many things from me, but it also revealed my inner strength and the deep love and support around me.
Today, four and a half years after my successful bone marrow transplant, I continue to live by my guiding principles. I cherish each day as a gift, knowing firsthand the fragility of life. I remain grateful for the health I have regained and the lessons learned along the way. My experience has inspired me to mentor transplant patients, hoping to offer hope and guidance to others facing similar challenges.
Driven by my personal experiences, I made a conscious decision to become a mentor to other transplant patients. I wanted to fill the gap I had noticed, providing a compassionate ear, practical insights, and emotional support. My goal was to offer hope and encouragement during what can be the most challenging times in someone’s life. Becoming a mentor to transplant patients has not only allowed me to give back to the community that supported me but has also been the final stage of my own healing journey. Being able to put my experiences into words which help other people through the complex transplant process has been incredibly empowering and satisfying. It is through these interactions that I also have found healing, purpose, and a renewed sense of hope. As I continue this journey, I hope to support and inspire others, knowing that each conversation and shared experience can greatly impact someone's life.
One of the most rewarding aspects of mentoring is guiding individuals through the transplant process. From pre-operative preparations to post-operative care and beyond, I am able to share insights that can alleviate fears and uncertainties. Simple acts such as explaining medical jargon, offering tips for managing medications, or simply being a listening ear can make a world of difference. In return, I believe that helping transplant patients through the process is another step in my own healing.
In conclusion, my journey through AML and my subsequent recovery underscore the importance of living one day at a time and never giving up hope. These principles are not just words but lived experiences that have shaped my outlook on life and empowered me to embrace every moment with gratitude and resilience. Even in the darkest of times, there is light to be found, and hope to be cherished. Life has its ups and downs. How we handle the tough times defines us. For me, living one day at a time and never giving up hope have been my guiding lights. I urge each of you to embrace these simple principles in your own lives. Whether you're facing a personal challenge or supporting someone who is, remember that each day is an opportunity to find strength, to inspire others, and to cherish the gift of life. Together, let us live with purpose, embrace hope, and make each day count.
