Let’s face it, you can’t really talk about God anymore.
OK, maybe at church, but in the average, everyday setting like work or in public places, or schools, you can’t just “go there” and talk about religion and God and all that stuff.
Well, Tuesday was one of those days where I was talking about God in a work setting.
That’s how good covering state baseball on Tuesday felt for my mind, body and soul.
The Westosha Central baseball team has given me the privilege of covering them this past school year for the state volleyball, state basketball and state baseball tournaments.
It’s been a heck of a ride and a joy to observe, photograph, videotape and write about some of the best kids in the area.
None of these experiences meant more to me than Tuesday’s and potentially Thursday’s state baseball tournament because of how far I’ve come on my journey.
That’s right, my cancer journey.
I’m sorry if some of you hate that I’ve written about it so much in here, I get that it’s not traditional sports coverage, but column and opinion pieces have a very important place in newspapers.
Interesting, entertaining and informative content is just that, and it can be disguised in many voices.
In fact, not to brag or anything, but I’ve received several compliments for my cancer advocacy over these past three years, ever since I was diagnosed with Stage 3 colon cancer in June 2019.
Two days after my 37th birthday, to be exact.
Long story short, I had cancer surgery July 18, 2019, at Froedtert Hospital in Milwaukee, my wife’s water broke the next day five weeks early, and Roman David Ramczyk was born the day after.
His APGAR score was 1 out of 10, and he wasn’t breathing initially, so he was rushed to a NICU in West Allis.
Mom stayed at Lakeland in Elkhorn a few nights, I was still recovering from cancer surgery and thought I still may die, and Roman was in West Allis all alone.
One night, we were all in three different hospitals, alone, away from each other, and scared for what may happen.
Roman ended up needing surgery for a fistula, and he had an NG-tube for eating and was sent home with a G-tube. Erin had to quit her full-time marketing job to take care of both of us.
As for me, I had six months of chemotherapy, 12 treatments to be exact, and the cancer was gone from my body by spring 2020.
I was able to work and make some money during treatment, which kept me sane.
But the outcry of support far exceeded our expectations.
Family and friends made us dinners, helped us with child care (I also have an 8-year-old) and threw us all a benefit at Champs bar and grill in Lake Geneva.
We raised $20,000 in one night. It’s kind of gone, but that’s another story, ha.
Having a big family and so many people that care about us is so amazing, and we were reminded of it in the worst of times.
Everyone is good these days.
Erin is back to work, I’m healthy and just had another good blood checkup last week, and Roman and Coraline, my kids, are happy and healthy.
Roman actually gets to start Early Childhood, or 3K, in the fall at Waller, the same school where his sister will be a big THIRD grader. She is 8 and currently plays for the Burlington Blast and for Kokodynski Orthodontics for the Burlington Girls Softball League.
We are extremely lucky, blessed and all the good adjectives you can think of.
But the cancer is not over, and I feel like it will never be over.
I was reminded of it again Tuesday at state baseball.
Wisconsin State Journal preps reporter Jon Masson, an amazing writer and person who I’ve become friends with through working together over the years, busted out a “How are you feeling?” to me in the media room perched over lovely Fox Cities Stadium, home of the Wisconsin Timber Rattlers (Milwaukee Brewers Single-A affiliate).
“How are you feeling?” questions from people I haven’t seen in awhile has become my new normal.
My family members don’t really ask me anymore, because they know I’m kind of cancer-free, knock on wood, but people that only see me sparingly always ask that question.
I understand, and I appreciate their concern, but it feels like something that can DEFINE me.
I’m the guy that had cancer.
I’m sure there are so many of you out there that know what I’m saying, as cancer patients and survivors know that it’s something they struggle with the rest of their lives mentally and maybe physically.
Because I know Jon so well, I joked and gave him a “How are YOU feeling?” He laughed and said he just hadn’t seen me in awhile.
But work colleagues say it all the time over these past three years.
Cancer is so scary, terrifying and life-changing, I think some people can’t believe I am strong enough to keep showing up at state tournaments and pushing on.
Masson and Dave Radcliffe, another good buddy that is the assistant sports editor for the Waukesha Freeman, were both there to greet me Tuesday.
Eventually, I said, “God is GOOD!” to both of them to describe how I’m feeling.
I truly believe God was watching over me, along with the spirit of my mother, who passed away in late December 2018, only six months before I got cancer.
I was just so happy to be back at the place where I pretty much found out I had cancer.
Back at the 2019 state tournament, I was there covering Burlington, and I was driving to Buffalo Wild Wings for lunch after the Demons’ 8 a.m. game, much like Westosha’s early-morning contest Tuesday.
I received a call from my doctor, who delivered my levels results via voicemail.
One stood out in particular.
My Vitamin D levels were only a 10 out of 100, which is considered normal.
A freaking 10! That’s bad.
Vitamin D has a lot to do with your immune system and preventing disease, so it needs to be good.
It wasn’t because I had cancer and didn’t know it.
As soon as I entered the restaurant, I hustled to the bathroom, just in time to make it to the toilet.
What I wanted to see in the bowl wasn’t there, and instead it was a nightmare.
Bright red blood and nothing else.
It was so shocking, I was speechless.
I needed to call someone. Something was very, very wrong.
Luckily, my doctor’s number was the last one on my phone, so I left her a message and got back to work.
Hours later, as I was shooting photos of Burlington star pitcher Trent Turzenski in action, my doctor left me a voicemail, telling me to finish working that night but to see her immediately when I got back to Burlington the next morning.
Well, I did, a colonoscopy was ordered stat, it revealed a tumor even though the doctor said it’s probably hemorrhoids, and the rest is history.
My life was saved with surgery and chemotherapy, and I really do think God has my back and has been protecting me.
With no state baseball tournament in 2020 due to COVID-19 and someone else covering Union Grove in 2021, I haven’t had a chance to return to state baseball until this week.
It gave me an overwhelming sense of joy to be up there, doing what I love, knowing I’m healthy.
It was so good to see everyone again, hear the ping of the bat hitting the ball and see a stadium full of fans ready for summer.
It is an honor to be able to travel to big events far away from home and witness greatness in person.
It’s the best part of this job.
Interviewing and meeting new people, discovering the passion in student-athletes and simply taking moments to enjoy and watch sporting events is very relaxing and brings me peace.
Doing it without having to worry about cancer is a godsend.
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