Tuesday, September 1, 2026
-Bill Crane-
On July 31, 2025, I had what I still hope was my final day of chemotherapy treatment. The month of August last year brought many follow up tests. The most significant were CT Scans (which have since shown no cancer, tumors, or significant risks/changes) and a newer technology, Signatera blood testing for circulating cancer DNA. Infusions of IV fluids, iron (for occasional anemia), B-12 shots and other regimens continue with some frequency, though… With the results of both major diagnostics being negative, CT scans continue every six months, and Signatera testing continues every three months… yet time and again, now for one year…I remain cancer free. The term ‘remission’ has largely fallen out of use and favor, with the I think stronger replacement, No Evidence of Disease (NED).
I have an incredible medical team. My gastro, Dr. Nitin Gupta who literally spotted a small, glistening white spot at the tail end of my colon… he biopsied what appeared to be a spot of little concern, during a belated, but routine (for me) annual colonoscopy. After the pathology came back showing a very aggressive, high-risk, and fast-growing colon cancer, Dr. Gupta referred me to my surgeon. In the month between that initial colonoscopy of a dot, slightly larger than half a pinky fingernail, and a follow-up ordered by my surgeon—who wanted to get a closer look before deciding the best surgical path—the dot had grown several centimeters across, dark black with tendrils growing up and into the walls of my colon. It looked like a very early version of the spawn in Alien.
Though I enjoyed the ‘happy juice’ that took me away for a moment during the procedure, when I came to, a very straight-faced Dr. Cici Zhang calmly ended my hopes for a colon re-section and a short recovery period…with no further treatment needed.
“Your cancer is growing fast, we need to get your surgery scheduled ASAP. That entire colon needs to come out. If we wait, the tumor will pierce the walls of your colon, get into your bloodstream and lymphatic system, if it is not already there and you may be facing a battle that we most often cannot win.” advised my gifted surgeon.
Out With the Old…
The path ahead for me was clear, though not the one I wanted to take. A couple of weeks later, I was back at Northside Cancer Center for a long 8.5 hour nap, waking up sans my largest organ (the colon), and 46 lymph nodes that went along to keep the large intestine company. Having led a relatively healthy and blessed life, I had never experienced an extended hospital stay; this was nearly two weeks of recuperation and learning a whole new way to handle and process waste. My surgeon and later my oncologist, another standout, Dr. Kathleen Lambert of Georgia Cancer Specialists, each told me that the two things I entirely controlled that could benefit my treatment and ultimate recovery were my attitude and as soon as I possibly could…exercise. I was out of bed, walking with my new friend the colostomy bag, and experiencing pain in places I didn’t know one could hurt. Cheered in part by a day two visit from my grandtwins, the Mighty Mites, I began making multiple daily loops around the hospital floor and ward. By week’s end, I was doing these laps for half an hour at a time.
I left Northside while still learning the particulars of my new digestive process, and a bit fearful of injuring myself while dealing with the bag. Spent the next month generously and lovingly hosted by my daughter Barclay, her husband Cody Carson, and the grandsons in their incredible home near Monroe, Georgia. I had a downstairs in-law suite, and though I tried to be a good guest (I slept a lot), I’m sure it was no breeze having me underfoot, in part as Barclay was at that same time 8-months pregnant and taking care of twin not-quite-five-year-old boys.
Then Came the Hardest Part –
The chemotherapy treatment regimen that followed, and its side effects, were the most challenging part of this journey. Admittedly, compared to so many others I have met, and some I already had to say goodbye to, I got off light. The chemo regimen I was on lasted for three-days, every two weeks for three months. As you started to recover from the last treatment, the next one would arrive. I won’t rehash here again, but as you have friends or family in this tunnel or undergoing radiation, this is the phase where they will most need, as well as appreciate your support.
A close friend/fraternity brother, Matt Crabtree, took the lead in arranging my chemo session transport, as well as a slew of gift cards and meal baskets. When I lived with the Carsons enough flowers and gift baskets to open a florist covered their kitchen island and dining table. I had previously witnessed the power of prayer, in healing each of my daughters and grandsons, as well as bringing relief to other family members. But until this experience, I had never really felt the power of prayer. Even now, courtesy of 25 years in local television, complete strangers will greet me at the grocery store to share that their Prayer Group included me each week, or offer a random hug at a restaurant—again folks I have never previously met—complimenting my recovery and good health.
Though there were some mishaps, and a good chapter for a book on what NOT TO DO when wearing a colostomy bag, in November I had my ‘bionic colon’ surgically constructed or the more medical term, ‘Reversal Surgery,’ and a new exit was created with about 18-inches of my small intestine . The end result isn’t identical to what I had previously, but it works pretty well, and all the plumbing is now back on the inside.
Whistle While You Work Out…
Taking the recommendation of regular exercise to heart, I began morning Tai Chi each day, while also building back my Yoga practice, and walking an average of 10-15 miles each week, mostly on the PATH trail, which crosses through our backyard. I am now in better shape than I was prior to the cancer’s arrival. In many ways, I am a different and hopefully better person. Maturity had already done some of that work, but I know that I have much more empathy and general awareness of what others might be going through.
As I woke up Monday, realizing that I have officially been cancer-free for a year, my confidence that this recovery will become permanent—and that at the five-year mark my medical team will start to use that word “cured,’ had a nice growth spurt. There have been too many moments to list here, in what I thought might have been only brief over-time. And of course, I am aware that with my particular cancers, I have a roughly 50 percent chance of getting past that five-year mark. Yet as my nephew remarked at my father Jerry Crane’s 88th birthday celebration this past Sunday, stubbornness tends to run deep in the Crane family, particularly among the men.
I’m not ready to go just yet. And among the many blessings of this past year, my grandson No. #3, Cohen “Coco” Carson arrived, and we celebrated his first birthday in April. More recently an incredible Cancer Survivor’s Summer Camp, brought me several new friends, and I will spend next weekend at another all day Cancer Survivor Conference, learning better ways to strengthen and lengthen this new life.
As I said earlier, this was not a road I would have chosen, but it has given me an attitude of gratitude that has made my heart and daily steps lighter on most days. I thank God, my children, grandchildren, family and more friends than I can count for your kind words, prayers, many thoughtful gestures and gifts…and for believing in me and regularly encouraging me along the way. I ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.
