John Vennavally-Rao on his double cancer diagnosis — and reason for hope

When Green Day performed recently in Toronto, I was in the crowd with my wife singing along as Billy Joe Armstrong belted out the rock anthem “Wake Me Up When September Ends.” The song is about his father who died from esophageal cancer in September 1982. It’s a month that I’ve long associated with cancer awareness. As a kid I took part in the annual Terry Fox Run every September.
Now, I have my own personal cancer connection with this time of year.
Twelve months ago, following a routine colonoscopy, doctors discovered I had two completely separate cancers: rectal cancer and lung cancer. It was two primary cancers at the same time. There were also cancerous lesions on my liver. As for symptoms? I had none and felt fine.
The lung cancer was particularly shocking. I’m 53 and have never been a smoker. Had this happened to me at the start of the 21st century, my doctors say I likely would’ve been dead within 18 months.
But thanks to remarkable advances in surgical techniques and the efforts of countless cancer researchers, I am doing ok and have my sights set on returning to work. This, despite battling cancers that are at stage 2 and stage 4. I sometimes joke that it must put me at stage 6.
Waiting for another procedure at Toronto General Hospital. (Handout photo/John Vennavally-Rao)Getting to this point where I have any hope—and can even make light of my situation—has been a slog. So far surgeons have removed half of my right lung, a chunk of my colon and a third of my liver.
Following a 10-hour operation in late January, I was sent straight to the ICU and spent a month in hospital. My liver began failing and so I turned yellow. Then there were life-threatening blood clots and a serious hospital infection. I lost my sense of taste and dropped nearly 30 pounds. As I left the hospital, I struggled to walk and was too frail for chemotherapy.
Remarkably, my liver has since recovered and regenerated—a testament to the marvels of the human body—though, unfortunately, the lung does not also grow back. I won’t be winning any marathons, but thankfully, I can breathe deeply enough to sing at a concert, return to reporting and even anchor a newscast. Though TV writers note: please remember the golden rule and try to keep your sentences short!
Initially I was horrified by the thought of having to wear a temporary ileostomy bag. I’ve since learned a stoma can be an essential surgical option, and I can still wear regular clothes and go to the gym. The stigma is not warranted.
Battling jaundice after liver surgery, my skin taking on a yellow hue. (Handout photo/John Vennavally-Rao)So what’s my prognosis? Thanks to the extraordinary progress in cancer treatment and the miracle of targeted therapies, it is surprisingly good. Yet, there remains the possibility that things could go badly at any time. On the leaderboard of deadliest cancers, lung and colorectal cancer are at the top.
Like so many cancer patients (some 247,000 Canadians will be diagnosed this year alone), I am scanned regularly.
Each time, I hold my breath and hope for the best. My cancer drug makes me tired, I’m waiting for a third surgery and I’m still processing what all of this means for my future. But at least I have the chance at a future. Despite all the progress, many are robbed of even that.
This weekend, as a thanks for the excellent care I continue to receive, my wife Tammy is taking part in the Princess Margaret Hospital Walk to Conquer Cancer.
As one of the top five cancer research centres in the world, she’s raising funds to support their incredible work. My doctors and nurses—there have been so many—are based out of Princess Margaret, Mount Sinai and Toronto General Hospital.
In particular we’d like to thank surgeons Dr. Thomas Waddell, Dr. Chaya Shwaartz, Dr. Fayez Quereshy, Dr. Mantaj Brar, and medical oncologists Dr. Carlos Muzlera and Dr. Ronald Burkes.
I’m also grateful for the support of my many colleagues at CTV/BellMedia. My health plan is helping cover the cost of some prohibitively expensive drugs. And I have the benefit of taking an extended leave from work. I wish every Canadian with cancer could be so fortunate. My wife’s employer Gowling WLG has also been incredibly supportive.
The reporter in me, of course, wanted to know the public takeaway from my story.
Dr. Burkes, who is my lead oncologist and medical team quarterback, tells me non-smokers now make up a substantial percentage of lung cancer patients. He also says more women now die from lung cancer than breast cancer. Yet lung cancer research remains significantly underfunded in part because of its historic connection with smoking.
Dr. Burkes would also love it if more people got a colonoscopy. He notes that colorectal cancer is affecting younger people at an alarming rate. While screening starts at age 50 in Canada, he and many of his colleagues believe it should begin at age 45, which is now the standard in the U.S.
As for my twin cancer diagnosis—while somewhat unusual, it does happen. Last year, tennis star Martina Navratilova revealed she was simultaneously diagnosed with both throat and breast cancer. Sometimes when doctors go looking for the spread of one cancer they stumble across another.
When Peter Jennings reported on air in 2005 that he had lung cancer, the former ABC World News Tonight anchor quoted America’s National Cancer Institute saying “we are survivors from the moment of diagnosis.”
He died just 4 months later. For me it’s now been a year surviving, and thanks to tremendous advancements in research over the last two decades, I can look ahead with hope for many more.
If you’d like to contribute to the Walk to Conquer Cancer please click on this link.