My Journey With Cancer
- Eric Buechel
- Aug 22
- 6 min read
My journey began in 2008 while I was running a charming little coffee shop in Crossville, Tennessee. The "Artist Corner" was the ideal place to savor the freshest coffee while being enveloped by art. When I say art from floor to ceiling, I mean it—there were murals on the ceiling and floor, and the walls were covered too. It quickly became a hub for artists and actors to discuss various topics during the week. Everything was going smoothly until I started feeling extremely fatigued toward the end of summer 2009. It wasn't the typical tiredness from a long day's work; it was a different kind of exhaustion that was hard to describe.
During those initial months of not feeling well, I purchased an inexpensive folding bed from a local store and kept it in the back to rest on. At that time, I was also teaching art classes at the shop and a private school nearby. Besides being terribly tired, I began experiencing severe night sweats, so intense that I had to use thick beach towels to absorb the sweat. Even during the day, the sweating was uncomfortable, though not as severe as at night. When I mentioned this to a family member, they quickly dismissed it as overwork. At night, I had to elevate my head due to acid reflux, in addition to the night sweats, yet I still thought it was just overwork. This continued for months, along with a loss of appetite and significant weight loss. At that point, I started to suspect something was wrong, but I believed it was nothing that a little rest couldn't fix.
After all, I was a single parent raising a young teenage boy and getting sick wasn't an option. But as things worsened, I made a doctor's appointment and realized something was amiss. A few weeks later, my brother suggested a doctor in Sparta might help. I don't remember going there, but I was later told I didn't have an appointment. The receptionist asked what was wrong, and I reportedly said, "I'm dying." Dr. Kemkar immediately sent me to the emergency room next door. I ended up spending 41 days in intensive care. As I regained my strength, I had moments of recollection about this chapter of my life, mostly filled with weakness and sweating, but I was often on pain medication and slept a lot.
Eventually, I was diagnosed with 4th stage cancer. Yes, that dreaded disease I thought I'd never get. I eventually returned home, still exhausted, but now an oncologist in Crossville was overseeing my treatments. The plan was for me to undergo 8 heavy doses of chemo, two weeks apart once I was strong enough. It was a new year, and honestly, much of the suffering and pain I had endured was nearly forgotten. In fact, forgetting some of that suffering helped in my recovery, allowing me to stay positive and focus on the treatments. Despite being tired and weak, I made every effort to get up in the morning and make breakfast for my son George. My goal was to survive the illness and care for my son. As the weeks passed, I looked forward to the chemo treatments. I'm not saying they made me feel great, but they were oddly comforting.
During the days, I'd exercise a little, like doing deep knee bends—well, shallow knee bends—and lots of stretches. My diet consisted of plenty of vegetables, soups, and vegetable juices, avoiding anything with too much sugar. But here's something else I did almost every day—I watched Star Wars. Yes, nearly every day, I watched the battles. These movies helped me stay positive and fight hard. The cancer was still present, and the battle wasn't over yet. A month before all this, I was given the last rites by my friend and priest of many years. Later, two doctors told me they believed I had only two weeks to live. I consider myself very blessed and happy to be able to keep fighting. This continued for weeks until Dr. Hendrixson, my oncologist, did a bone biopsy in my hip. It was done in his office and is part of the NHL regiment. To his amazement, the cancer was gone, meaning I didn't need the last two chemo treatments. I thought or was expecting to have a bone marrow transplant at Vanderbilt in the coming month, but that was no longer necessary.
A few weeks before all this, I vaguely remember a trip to Vanderbilt and undergoing some tests while being wheeled around in a wheelchair. But as it happens, the chemotherapy was over, which surprised me and stunned my doctors. I'm a true believer in miracles, and I can assure you this was one of them. During this time, I had plenty of family and friends praying for me. And when I looked in the mirror, I saw an old man at the age of 52. Once a competitive athlete and now barely able to walk on my own. But I did have one God-given tool in my arsenal, and that was the will to fight. I began with small steps, first trips around the kitchen island. Then deep knee bends while holding onto the sink area and the island in the kitchen. It doesn't sound like much, but at the time, it took everything I had in me to do even one. I began a regimen of protein drinks followed by lots of salads. And as spring came around, I started adventuring around the lawn, eyes peeled for dandelions.
In one of the books my niece Kelly sent me, a book on herbs, those hidden salads in my lawn were mentioned. Every day, I ventured into the yard in search of those little green and bitter treasures. Whether they actually worked on my body, I'll never know, but mentally there is little doubt they did. You see, the mind plays a powerful influence on our well-being. One of the many books I read during this time was called "The One Earth Herbal Sourcebook" by Alan Keith Tillotson. Again, it goes back to the mind and the will to get back on the saddle and do something positive. I had little time to feel sorry for myself. And I sure didn't want my son any more frightened than he already was. Feeling sorry for yourself is an enemy. Sure, I got the Big-C, but so do millions of others each year, and I'm not special. I got it, and I said to myself, "fight it." I have always been a bit of a health nut and have exercised my entire life, and now physically, I have to start from scratch and build up my health.
And so I began a new journey in my life. From eliminating nearly all sugar and processed foods. More walks on the property and deeper prayer. I've been involved with my church for years now, and having that relationship with God is pivotal. I'm now very involved with gardening. And I got married in 2013 to an unbelievable lady named Kathy, who is incredibly supportive with my artwork. I'm what she and her friends call an eccentric artist that thinks a little differently than the rest of us. I call it motivated, but that's another story. The bottom line is life can throw things at you faster than a major league pitch. The question is, are you going to hit the ball? Today I'm enjoying life better than ever before, and when it comes to the cancer I had, I look at it as a gift. It opened up my eyes like never before. True success in life is living a healthy life, and health begins with a good positive attitude and a will to see that sunrise again and again and again.
Organic Foods
By Eric Buechel
In fields where sunlight gently falls, Nature whispers, and the earth enthralls.
With every seed, a promise sown, In rich, dark soil, life has grown.
Tomatoes ripe, in hues of red, Kale and carrots, vibrant spread. No chemicals to
mar their grace, Just pure, sweet earth in every taste. Bees dance lightly, a busy hum,
As blossoms bloom, and harvests come. From farm to table, fresh and true, A cycle of
life, in every hue. Nourishment found in every bite, Fueling hearts with pure delight.
Organic foods, a mindful choice, In nature's bounty, we rejoice. So let us cherish,
protect, and grow, The gifts of the earth, in sun and snow. For in each meal, a story
told, Of organic wonders, worth more than gold.
Eric Buechel Fine Art
P.O. Box 277
Pleasant Hill, Tennessee 38578
931-881-7806
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