FxCK CANCER & My Story

I was honored to be chosen as one of the Heroes by FxCK CANCER – an organization that connects cancer patients, spreads awareness, and supports those in the fight.
My journey with cancer began in 2021, and honestly, it could fill a book you probably wouldn’t want to read – and yet, I have to live it.

“Because I won’t give up!!!”

A few days ago, Facebook suggested I add a song to one of my posts – and it happened to be that well-known one by Olga Lounová. While listening to it, I realized how powerful the lyrics are. Especially now, I feel like they’re speaking straight from my soul.

My story begins in mid-January 2021.
Some dates you never forget – they get burned into your memory. One of those days was when the urologist told me I probably had a large tumor in my abdomen. Looking back now, that moment snapped my life in half like the crack of a whip.After a bunch of tests – and thanks to some well-connected friends – I ended up at the sarcoma clinic in Motol Hospital just a few days later.
A young female doctor looked me in the eye and gave me a verdict I wasn’t ready for:
“Unfortunately, it’s a tumor. You should count on having five years left.”

And just like that, my world collapsed.

I was 46, going through a divorce, and had only recently become a grandpa. I’d never really been ill – my medical records probably had cobwebs and a thick layer of dust on them.

Five years, tops? I couldn’t wrap my head around that. It felt like a sick joke.
I mean, come on – I still wanted to see my kids grow up and watch my grandchild take their first steps. I was in my prime. Life was supposed to be ahead of me, not behind.And then everything went into overdrive. Time kicked into seventh gear, and somehow it’s already been nearly four years since that grim prophecy.
I’ll try to give you the short version here – but if you want the full ride, with all the twists and turns, you’ll find the complete story on my blog.

The surgery ended up being successful. Though honestly, I wasn’t even sure I’d make it to the operating table – I was in terrible shape.
I wasn’t eating, had lost a lot of weight, and to top it all off, this was all happening during the lovely days of COVID.

They removed a tumor the size of 30 centimeters and weighing 7 kilos.
Along with it, they took a few “non-essential” body parts – including one of my kidneys.
The diagnosis came back: a malignant dedifferentiated liposarcoma.
Luckily, they managed to take out everything the tumor had touched.
That was supposed to be the victory.

The euphoria lasted over two years – even though my condition was never quite the same.
I got used to the weakness, the dizziness, the unstable blood pressure, and all the other lovely side effects. I learned to live with them.

But more importantly, I finally started chasing the dreams I’d always put off – the ones I “never had time for.”
The biggest of them all? A dream from my youth: to visit Machu Picchu in Peru.

Step by step, I was getting stronger again.
I started going on long walks with my dog, climbing hills around my home – just to prove to myself that I could.

And somehow, in 2022 – less than a year and a half after the surgery – I was standing above that mystical Incan city, looking down at Machu Picchu.
It felt like closure.
Or better – like justice.
I made it. I did it.

That’s where something clicked inside me.
The idea of visiting all Seven Wonders of the Modern World was born.
Not just for the sights, but to prove – especially to myself – that I could still do it.
Even with everything I’d been through. Even with my so-called handicap.

My surgeon told me that if the tumor didn’t come back within two years, we probably had it beat.
It was rare. It didn’t metastasize, which was a plus.
But it had one nasty trait – it knew how to come back. Month by month, I started to believe it was all behind me.
That it had just been a terrifying episode in an otherwise normal life.

And then it came back. Exactly 26 months later.

I was getting ready to visit another Wonder – this time, Chichén Itzá in Mexico.
And just days before the trip, I got the call:
“You’ve got a tumor again.”

It hit me like a freight train.
I fell apart. Couldn’t understand why this was happening to me again.But on Monday, I boarded the plane anyway. I got to see the ancient Mayan pyramids with my own eyes.
And right after that incredible experience – I checked myself in for another surgery.

The surgery went well again – at least technically.
But complications with the healing process cost me three weeks of my life stuck in the hospital. There wasn’t that same euphoria as last time.
This time, experience kept me grounded.
But you know what? People forget the bad stuff pretty quickly.
So after a longer recovery, I was already eyeing the next Wonder.

Maybe I’m stubborn. Maybe I’m just wired that way.
Or maybe I just needed something else – new input, new sensations –
because without them, I’d probably lose my mind. So I booked another trip.And do you know what déjà vu feels like?Just a few days before departure, my phone rang.

Yep. The tumor was back.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
It felt like a bad sequel to a bad movie – the kind you wouldn’t believe unless you were living it.

Brazil was amazing.
The carnival at the Sambadrome? Unforgettable.
And the Christ the Redeemer statue – absolutely breathtaking.

But then came another surgery. This time, things didn’t go as planned.
The procedure was long, and during it, the doctors decided that going further would cause more harm than good.
So they didn’t remove the tumor.

Even though they didn’t take anything out, I still couldn’t eat for almost a month.
Everything I tried to swallow came right back up.

By spring 2024, the next treatment options were laid out on the table:
chemotherapy, radiation, or joining a clinical trial for a new drug. The last two didn’t work out. So I was left with just one path – chemo.

They started me on the lighter version, mono-chemo, so we wouldn’t blow all the ammo right away.

I started chemo in May – the mono kind – and spent the next four months “enjoying” those lovely red cocktails.
Not exactly on my list of top travel experiences – and anyone who’s been through it knows what I mean.

The first CT scan didn’t bring great news, but it wasn’t a total disaster either.
The tumor had grown – but only slightly – and the doctors decided to give me a three-month break to recover. I made good use of that window.

I knocked out my fourth Wonder – the breathtaking city of Petra in Jordan.
It was a short trip, but exactly what I needed to clear my head.

The next CT? Not so encouraging.
The tumor kept growing, and now I’ve got another round of chemo lined up – this time with a hospital stay and the full-service experience.

Luckily, I’ve still got three more Wonders to conquer.
And that’s the engine that keeps me moving forward.

And Since I Started with a Song, I’ll End with One Too:

“Then I’ll start fighting again And stop feeling sorry for my wounds
Everyone has to run for their own life.”

🇨🇿 Prefer reading in Czech? Zpět na českou verzi

 

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