As far as holidays go, Thanksgiving has never been near the top of my list.
While one never to complain about Turkey Day feasts, football and family gatherings, Thanksgiving hasn’t really stood out for me and certainly ranked behind Christmas, New Year’s, and other special occasions.
That’s likely to change, particularly so in 2025.
The health challenges that have arisen in 2025 were well documented in a previous piece but for those needing a primer, here’s the condensed version: Starting on June 29, there was both a heart attack, a recommendation for triple bypass surgery and the finding of likely pancreatic cancer - all in a span of about 48 hours.
A dire prognosis changed suddenly for the better within a day or two, when doctors first determined they could fix the heart by a couple of stent procedures, and a respected surgeon stepped in and said the cancer was very likely a very slow-moving, non-life-threatening sort.
The weeks and months that followed were intertwined with trips to Duluth for doctor’s visits, stent procedures and a biopsy, along with 36 short drives to Ely-Bloomenson to take part in its awesome cardiac rehabilitation program.
Those who know me know I love my trips to Vegas, and it seemed that through the rest of July and August, the cards kept turning up with Aces.
The stent procedures were successful and both the chest pain that hit like a thud in June, as well as just over 31 pounds had evaporated from my body.
Cardiac rehabilitation was testing, at times grueling but overall enjoyable and successful.
There was an EKG in early- October that also showed that the heart - which revealed a dangerously low ejection fraction rate in the 30s in late June - had recovered to normal pumping numbers of about 60 in the fall.
Meanwhile, the biopsy proved what my surgeon had suspected that the tumor inside me was not one that inspired imminent danger but instead could and should be removed.
All indeed was good but there was still the messy issue of that tumor resting inside my body.
As planned in July, the surgeon - Essentia’s magnificent Ryan Groeschl - worked toward a November surgery date.
It was gratifying that doctors weren’t rushing to remove the tumor, as well that chemotherapy and radiation were not needed at the moment.
My recovering heart also forced the wait - something to do with blood thinners I am told.
Nonetheless, the November date loomed, and despite all of the health-related victories that came from July through the fall, there was a good share of fear and trepidation as the Nov. 12 surgery date loomed.
Despite some cautionary warnings from both Hollee and medical staff in the weeks prior, I wasn’t really ready for what was about to hit me.
Part of that can be chalked up to the unknown, I had never experienced major surgery before.
Another I’m sure can be attributed to the almost easy recovery from stent procedures. You’re there in the morning, a little invasion through the wrist and home for dinner at night.
But the warnings that this would be different began to take hold and the morning of Nov. 12 hit like a ton of bricks.
We made the drive over from Duluth’s Holiday Inn and got checked in shortly before 7 a.m.
Hollee has been with me every step of the way and of course was there again along with two of our three kids - 20-year-old Robert and 11-year-old Macy. My mom, Jo Anne, and my mother-in-law, Peg. I coached basketball back in the day, and that’s as good of a starting five as any patient could ask for in terms of support.
The next few hours were a blur.
Despite the best efforts of all involved in health care, going into the hospital, especially for surgery, can be both invasive and demeaning and my mind kept telling me that it would shortly be over.
And indeed it was. At 2:40 p.m., I had awakened from my anesthesia-induced deep slumber in the recovery room of Duluth’s glass palace - the new St. Mary’s/ Essentia Hospital.
Ryan Groeschl’s was the first face I remember encountering, and he told me that the surgery had gone as anticipated, expected and hoped.
Hollee relayed the same message about an hour later when I returned to my hospital room still groggy and drugged up.
The tumor had not grown since it was discovered midsummer and was removed by the surgical team. There was no spread to other organs. As planned, the team also removed part of my pancreas and my entire spleen but they didn’t have to take out my small intestine.
We were told a few “beefy” lymph nodes were also removed but a subsequent pathology report found them to be benign.
In blackjack parlance, I doubled down on 10 and came up with another Ace.
The next few hours were some of the most painful of my 55 years, as drugs wore off, the pain throughout my middle hit and pierced and nurses struggled to come up with the right amount of relief.
But by Thursday morning, much of the pain had either faded or come under the control of medications, and by the afternoon, I was walking laps around St. Mary’s and climbed a flight of stairs.
One day of a liquid diet was followed by solid foods the next and a ticket home by Saturday.
The hospital time passed quickly with the aid of Hollee and my family and visits from many others, ranging from my dad and his wife Terri, to a two-hour long encounter with my longtime friend Tommy Zbacnik.
The text messages reached into the hundreds, there were Facebook messages aplenty, and the support was massive, at times overwhelming but tremendously meaningful.
Dare I say it made me extremely, extremely thankful.
Now, a few days later the pain has weakened, my body functions are returning to normal. I’ve also tiptoed back to work this week, with an hour or two at the school, a trip up to Vermilion to oversee an offseason workout and a couple hours here and there at the Echo, where Nick and the rest of the staff have held down the fort and left space for a column typed out amid the usual deadline day chaos on Chapman Street.
And this Thursday, we’ll welcome a dozen, 15, maybe even 20 folks into our White Street home for a Thanksgiving dinner.
Just under five months will have passed since my world turned upside down. Just as I have in the last few days, I’m sure I’ll take some time then to absorb it all, take it all in, and be thankful and grateful not only for the day, but the opportunity to host, the presence of Hollee and all of my family, the tremendous support from friends, coworkers and extended family and my current and former players, to name just a few.
I’m guessing from here on out, I’ll be treating Thanksgiving a bit differently and savoring it for more than just good dinners and decent football games.
Enjoy the day. Happy Thanksgiving. Count your blessings.
